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Mrs. Hardison Ch. 01

By: FinalStand



*You drive away the things you hate and the things you love*

(Friday night)

I'm not some massive body-building, football star kind of guy. I wish I could afford a gym membership and my exercise normally consists of running to catch the bus or taking stairs two at a time. I do have a good metabolism and I like to think I'm in good shape for a twenty-two year old who works in an office building.

So why am I running full tilt into a guy who has six inches and sixty pounds on me? It is easy to blame it all on idiocy; I'm trying to save somebody and better yet, it is someone I actively dislike and who actively dislikes me. I'm trying to save my director, Gloria Hardison from this unknown guy in the parking garage of my office building. I haven't been in a fight since the eighth grade so I figure I'm going to die.

I hit the guy by surprise probably because I'm too scared to yell. I think I'm totally screwed when I trip over Mrs. Hardison and fall down. What I don't immediately see is that I slam his head into the garage wall and he drops like a sack of potatoes. I pick myself up and kick the SOB twice in the ribs to make sure he knows to stay down.

Going back to Mrs. Hardison I realize her blouse is ripped and her bra torn. She has a cut on her forehead and a split lip. I'm not sure she's conscious so I shake her gently.

"Mrs. Hardison, it is Eddie. I'm going to get the police now. Are you going to be okay?" She looks up at me with unfocussed eyes, virtually emotionless and dead.

"No police," she mutters.

"I think you are out of it. Stay here and I'll get help," I repeat. She grabs my arm so tightly her fingernails punch through my shirtsleeve and draw blood.

"No! Get me in the car. I'm going home," she insists in a shaky, panicked voice. I pull her to a standing position but she starts slumping back down.

"Please Mrs. Hardison," I say to the hard-ass bitch that is the reason I'm working so late on a Friday night, "you can barely stand. Let me get help."

"Mr. Duarte I am telling you to let me go home," she slurs as she keeps sliding down the car. I decide to grow a spine and probably lose my job.

"No. I'm getting the god damn cops," I insist. She uses a word on me I wasn't even sure she knew.

"Please," she whispers. The asshole would-be rapist groans and I know I'm doing the absolutely wrong thing.

"Fine, but I'm driving," I demand. "I doubt you could even get the car in gear." Mrs. Hardison mumbles something incoherent but which I chose to assume is agreement.

I buckle her into the passenger seat, run around to the other side, gather up her stuff and start the car headed out. At the exit it occurs to me that I don't know where I'm going. Mrs. Hardison is totally out of it so I rifle through her wallet to find her address. I plug it into the onboard navigation and head out to a part of the city I could never afford to live in.

I'm sure I'm not going to find a parking spot right up until I pull in front of her townhouse. In this city she has her own designated spot and everything. I can't even begin to speculate how much that costs. Getting Mrs. Hardison up the stairs and through the door proves to be an exercise in balance, strength and proper use of hands. I manage to get her security code just in time.

Once I get her in the door I navigate to the closest chair where I deposit her until I can get the layout of her house. For some strange reason I figure if I can put her in her bed I can walk my ass home and get out of this career nightmare. Mrs. Hardison isn't my boss, or my bosses boss, she's my fucking Director. I'm sure the only knows my name because I've personally fucked up in front of her.

I find what looks like the main bedroom race down two flights of stairs to get her and find her wobbling her way toward the first floor stairs.

"Let me take you to bed," I offer.

"I need a shower," she mutters.

"Lady, you can barely stand," I point out.

"I need a shower," she repeats. I sigh, shake my head and wonder what the want ads are like.

"Let me take you up," I insist. I wrap an arm around her waist and half pull, half prop her up to the master bath. I sit her on the toilet, contemplate what to do next -- hell no I'm not going to strip her down -- so I cut on the water in the walk-in shower and make sure she has some towels before making my exit.

I pace all over the damn place in a frantic state of mind; I can't figure out why I am not in taxi heading home. Half an hour passes without hearing anything so lose my mind for the second time tonight. I open the door to the bathroom and find her huddled in her shower. Inside she is sobbing and unresponsive so without thinking I lift her up and take her to the bedroom.

With a little effort I get comforter and sheets down and tuck her in. I find myself standing around helplessly with not a clue as what to do next. The stress is starting to get to me and I find my energy crashing. I take the spare pillow, dig out a spare comforter, cut off the lights and lay out on the floor. I'm asleep before I can roll over.

(Saturday morning)

"Mr. Duarte ... Mr. Duarte!" I hear someone calling. I roll over and see the head of Mrs. Hardison looking down on me from the bed. I sit up so fast my head spins.

"Yes ma'am!" I shout in fear. She studies me like I'm a fly caught in her web.

"Mr. Duarte, get me a bathrobe," she orders. I find myself scrambling to the closet where I find five robes. "The blue one," she directs me. I come out and hand it to her, but she keeps her sheets tightly to her chest. I drop the robe close to her.

"I'll be out in the hall," I tell her quickly.

"That would be a good idea," he says in a neutral tone. I'm so gone. A minute later I hear her call me.

"Mr. Duarte, come in," she orders.

"Yes Mrs. Hardison," I respectfully respond, keeping my eyes carefully forward and not making eye contact.

"About last night," she begins then hesitates.

"Mrs. Hardison, last night didn't happen. I was never here," I state.

"You realize this will have no effect on our working relationship what so ever," she commands.

"Ma'am, if anything I'm more afraid of you now than I was yesterday morning," I tell her. I could almost swear I see her smile out of the corner of my eye but I dare not verify it.

"Go downstairs and make me some coffee," she says, "make us some coffee," she then corrects.

I have the coffee made and am sitting around twiddling my thumbs for fifteen minutes before she makes an appearance in a sweat shirt, sweat pants and white socks. If I didn't know any better I would mistake her for a human being. She goes over prepares a cup and sits down in her breakfast nook.

"Fix you a cup," she allows. I do, but only a small one. I want to get the hell out of here. 

"Thank you," she tells me.

"For what?" I ask.

"Stop it Mr. Duarte. You ... did me a favor last night and I'm thankful," she says. "Actually you did me at least four favors." I look confused.

"You didn't call the authorities, you drove me home, you helped me get into the shower and you put me to bed," she explained.

"Sorry about that whole shower thing. I didn't do anything and I barely looked," I swear. She studies me for a few seconds.

"I believe you," she admits. We sip for a minute in silence. I cast a few noticeable glances to my watch hoping she will take the hint and let me escape.

"Do people really fear me?" she inquires. There is no good answer to this question.

"I think most of us would rather test experimental vaccines for the Black Death than make you mad at us," I confess. That description makes her snort in amusement.

"You are very colorful Mr. Duarte, as well as impertinent, sloppy and inappropriate," she defines me. I gulp; these are not qualities that go on a positive job performance review. "What; no response?"

"I'd like to live and keep working at the company," I confess. That earns me a tiny slip of a smile.

"How did you manage show up right on time to save me?" she asks.

"I don't think I arrived on time. If I had we wouldn't be having this conversation," I tell her, "but I was down there to return your phone to you. I found it when I dropped the system certifications off at your desk as you requested."

"Working late on a Friday night? That is not very efficient of you," she complains even though my inefficiency saved her ass.

"You told me you were going to do horrible things to my sexual anatomy if I screwed up again, so I thought it prudent to do what you asked," I say. That earns me another tiny smile.

"I am glad you learned one thing. Now if you would only learn to avoid inter-office relationships," she stares at me. I hope I don't look as scared as I feel.

"It was only a few drinks," I lie.

"So if I confront them with this deviation from company policy that is what they will say?"

"Can we go up to the third floor?" I request. She looks at me warily and confused. "Since I'm about to throw myself out one of your windows I would prefer the fall to kill me," I explain. She snorts again.

"If you plan to kill yourself I can offer you a knife," she allows.

"I honestly didn't think you were feeling that generous," I respond. That definitely earns a smile.

"So you found the phone of a woman you fear and most likely despise and you came running down to give it to me; is this correct?" she continues.

"Your phone is your life," I state. "Like you or not, I'd have to be a total douche to either leave you without it, or make you have to come all the way back to work to retrieve it. It was a no-brainer."

"My phone is my life?" she questions.

"I've been under you for less than one year, but I've never seen you without it," I explain. She seems to thinks about it and nods.

"I wouldn't say it is my life," she counters. I'm polite enough to not counteract the Mistress of my Destiny. She seems slightly annoyed. "By all means, tell me about myself." I back to the 'I want to cry' stage.

"You are the youngest director on the board -- ever. You are divorced with no kids. You always work at least eighty hours a week and you make the effort to know everyone in your department, mainly so you can keep our heads to the grindstone and make sure you smash the proper peon who fucks things up. Everything about you is work, work, and work so it is safe for me to say that your phone is your life," I recite to her as I look to the floor. I may have to move to another city to find a job now. No one says anything for a minute.

"I thought you were afraid of me ... and that you wanted to keep working at the company?" she finally questions.

"Right now I would describe myself as terrified, but that is no reason to not be honest with you," I reply. "Should I save Human Resources the trouble and go back to work now and clean out my desk?"

"I'll need to think that over," she says. Out of the blue she slaps me with, "Do you find me attractive?" 

"Well I think we already know the answer to that," I groan, "but yes, I did call you 'smoking hot' in the break room."

"Do you think women like being referred to in such a sexist manner?" she inquires with some heat.

"No, I suppose not. I apologize for offending you," I reply sheepishly.

"I didn't get where I am because I'm 'smoking hot' Mr. Duarte," she snaps. "I worked my ass off and I put in those long hours and neglected everything else to get where I am today."

I have nothing left to lose.

"Are you happy? Sure you should be President inside ten years ..."

"Five," she corrects.

"... five years and then what? You will be the best in your profession at forty-six."

"I well exercise my stock options and retire to the south of France," she answers. I can't stop that first bit of laughter.

"You can't be serious," I gasp. Mrs. Hardison is not amused.

"I think it is safe to say that you need to seek new employment Monday," she informs me. I shrug but remain seated.

"What are you doing?" she inquires.

"You didn't ask me to leave so I'm drinking a cup of coffee," I tell her. "Besides, now that I'm not longer terrified of you I think it would be a good idea for you to have a friend come over before I leave so they can spend some time with you after ... last night."

"Get out," she says evenly. I finish my coffee in one gulp and get ready to leave. I've walked outside and am halfway down the street when a few things occur to me. I climb back up the stairs and knock on the door. She opens the door and it is clear to me that she's been crying.

"I've left my keys, wallet, phone, and shoes in your bedroom," I sigh.

She steps aside and points me to the stairs. She manages to hold it together while I head up but she's sitting on the floor back to the wall and sobbing when I get back down. I am angry with this woman, I am now unemployed and I haven't eaten in twenty hours. I sit beside her in the hallway and hold her to me. She makes a few feeble attempts to push me away but I hold on.

I don't know how long I sit there with her. By the time my stomach starts grumbling she's all but in my lap in a near fetal ball. It doesn't take a rocket scientist to know what is going on. This isn't the first time this has happened to her and if I'm dumb enough to race to her car to give her a damn phone I'm sure as hell not going to leave her now.

"You are hungry," she mumbles.

"I'm comfortable where I am," I respond softly. She takes a few deep breaths.

"I think I'm okay for now," she assures me. I push myself up along the wall pulling her along with me. 

As we walk to the kitchen I keep an arm around her and she doesn't mind. "I'll get us something to eat." I sit down, keeping an eye on Mrs. Hardison. She soon puts down a veggie-pita for me and her and sits down to eat. We pass the meal in silence but when we finish,

"I appear to be thanking you again," he softly murmurs.

"Mrs. Hardison ..."

"Call me Gloria," she interrupts, which seems to be something she's good at.

"Gloria, please call me Eddie, and I will stay here for as long as you think you need me," I respond.

"Didn't I fire you a few hours ago?" she asks.

"One has nothing to do with the other," I reply. She's studying me again.

"I don't need your pity," she accuses me.

"Do I look like I'm pitying you?" I say. She has certainly not become bored looking at me. "Do you want to tell me what happened?"

"No," she whispers.

"Have you ever told anyone?" I inquire.

"No."

"Can I help at all?" I say.

"No ... I don't know. I never told anyone. I put it behind me and got on with my life," she replies. "I don't even know why I'm talking with you."

"To put it bluntly you need to talk to someone and I'm all you got," I suggest. "I'll never hurt you, and I can't harm your career. We've already established that." That makes her start crying again.

I go around to her chair, pull her up and wrap my arms around her and she erupts in tears. Someone really did a number on Gloria. After five minutes she mutters something.

"I want to lie down for a while." I follow her upstairs and we lie down on the bed together. At first she is fearful and distant so I scoot over to the far side. With nothing to do I drift off again.

When I wake up she's cuddled up to me and I think she's asleep.

"This is the first time I've been in bed with a man in fifteen years. I had almost forgotten what it was like," she tells me. She props herself up on an elbow so she can look me in the eyes. "Isn't this the part when you kiss me, stroke my large breasts and grab my fat ass?"

"You don't pay me enough for that," I quip. Her eyes get wide and then she breaks out in barely suppressed laughter. 

"That will teach me to fire you," she chuckles.

"Besides, I've already established that you are 'smoking hot'. Your breasts are a pleasant handful and your ass is perfectly firm," I joke back. She punches me in the chest.

"How would you know?" she asks.

"I think we are back to me being 'impertinent' and 'inappropriate'," I respond, "as well as being a sexist with 20/20 vision."

"Does your magical tongue actually work with other women?" she snickers.

"Verbally, no, which is why I have to buy them drinks; physically I haven't had any complaints," I boast and she blushes. "Can we do something?" I say which makes her nervous. "I would really like a shower and a change of clothes. I'm beginning to offend myself; I can't imagine what I'm putting you through." 

Gloria lets out a slight sigh of relief.

"You can borrow my car," she offers.

"Gloria, in the part of the city where I live if I left your car out -- assuming I could even find a place to park -- it would be gone by the time when I got out."

"What do we do about this?" she asks.

"Do you have a washer-dryer?"

"No, I have a service," she informs me.

"Well crap," I sigh in disgust.

"Why don't I drive you home?" she suggests.

"I don't want to leave you alone," I counter. She gives me this strange look.

"Fine, I'll drop you off, go by the office to get some work and pick you up in an hour?" she tells me. Now I have to trust her to keep her word with no real reason I can see for her to dump me. I don't even work for her anymore.

(Saturday evening)

Me and my back pack are hangin out in front of my apartment building going over the finer points of working days versus nights in world of drug dealing with a one of the guys. When I tell him how much I make a year he offers to lift me out of poverty and give me a job. Considering I'm actually jobless I take his cell number because while prison must suck, not eating can't be much better.

Mrs. Hardison -- Gloria -- is twenty minutes late. When I get into the car the locals give me my props for such a cool ride. I don't bother telling Gloria she's late. It isn't like my time really matters.

"I've never been down to this part of town before now and here I am twice in one night," she tells me.

"I hope you never have to come here again, but if you do, for the love of God, don't stop and ask for directions. In the real world they call it car-jacking; here it is called the redistribution of wealth," I warn her.

"I thought we paid our new employees better than this," she says with suspicion.

"It is called credit card debt. I wasn't the smartest guy with money in college and I did some things I shouldn't have and now I'm making good on it," I answer.

"What are you going to do now?" she asks.

"Do what everyone else does; look for a job. I'll find something. I did well in college and now I have a year's experience under my belt," I point out.

"You don't have any money in the bank, do you?"

"A little over three hundred bucks plus the forty in my wallet," I tell her.

"You have no plan what so ever," she growls at me. "How can you be so irresponsible?"

"Gloria, I hadn't planned on being fired," I reply.

"You should have been," she snaps. "You are a very sloppy worker. You have no drive, no ambition."

"My supervisor likes ... liked me. I was doing okay. I got my work done," I counter.

"Oh yes, Mr. Chu said you were a good team player and that you were a very popular member of his staff, but you chronically worked late and didn't meet deadlines."

I should be more stunned that she knows that much about me but Hardison is such a busybody that she certainly has the same detailed information on everyone beneath her, but since she was no longer my boss, I felt I could unload on her.

"Do you know why I was always behind? I made sure our team projects always made it on schedule and I helped out others in my unit when they needed it. So what if my report made it in at noon instead of ten occasionally; sometimes people need help so I give it," I respond.

"You will never get ahead in life like that," she councils me.

"What do you mean? I get more drinks than I pay for, I slept with two co-workers, and been invited to one wedding already. Not bad for my first year," I reply.


Mrs. Hardison Ch. 01



"Wanting to help out has now cost you your job," she states.

"No, I lost my job because you can be a real bitch at times and you don't like being told that. Sure you are bright, meticulous, and hard-working but no one likes you," I say.

"If you hate me so much why are you in this car with me," she asks.

"Bitch is a character trait; hate is an emotion," I explain to her. "I don't hate you. Hell, I kind of admire you. You are the youngest director ever. People may not like you, but I've never had anyone say you were unfair; you kick ass indiscriminately."

"I am glad I meet you approval," she replies sarcastically. 

"Don't do that," I sigh. "It isn't about approval. I know you don't care what I think of you but don't belittle me for being honest." We drove the rest of the way back to her place in silence. Only when we got inside did she say anything.

"I apologize," she grinds out as if making some great concession, which for her it probably was.

"Thank you," I say calmly.

"I can have Chinese delivered," she tells me.

"How about pizza?" I suggest. She gets this far off expression in her eyes.

"I haven't had pizza in ages," she mutters. "Sure, let's get some pizza." An hour later we are sitting cross-legged on the floor of her TV room flipping channels. Now that I get to look around this place with clear eyes not clouded by fear and worry I realize this home is pristine. It doesn't look like anyone actually lives here.

"Do you like my things?" she surprises me.

"They are very you," I answer.

"But?"

"I'm a cluttered guy; I like a little mess here and there. I mean, I get laundry done on laundry day and I get the dishes done twice a week. Your place is very beautiful and orderly but it isn't for me," I explain.

"Thank you I think," she replies.

"You have a lot of pride, which I mean as a compliment," I inform her.

"I have much to be proud about Mr. Duarte," she begins.

"Eddie; please call me Eddie," I interrupt her.

"And that is more than I can say for you," she finishes.

"I really don't need it," I respond, "and if I do I'll borrow some from you," I joke. She doesn't laugh.

"Why do I put up with you?" she said seriously as she furrows her brow.

"I believe I'm your only friend," I remind her.

"Since when have we been friends?" she questions.

"Since you picked me up from my place to come back here," I answer. That brings her up short.

"I could always send you home."

"Yes, if that is what you want me to do, but I don't want to go. I like you," I tell her. She stops looking at me and goes back to staring at the television for thirty minutes.

"I'm going to bed now," she says as she stands up.

"I'll come with you," I respond. She stops and glares at me. "I'll sleep above the comforter and on the far side of the bed. I only want to be close to you in case you need me in the night."

She ignores me and heads upstairs so I grab my backpack and follow. We take turns in the bathroom before heading into her bedroom. She snuggles in before I take the far side of the bed. This time I stay awake for some time, working in my head the past twenty-four hours and create the basic framework of how I'm going to survive for the next few weeks.

I hear the covers rustle and Gloria moves over to me, putting a hand on my chest and draping a leg over mine.

"Hold me," she orders. I comply for a variety of reasons, but mostly I know how hard it is for her to ask for anything from anybody.

(Sunday)

I have a face full of hair when I wake up. It smells good like what I imagine real honeysuckle is like. My hand is on her stomach and my hips are pressed against her backside. It dawns on me my morning wood is going to be highly inconvenient, maybe even terrifying for her. I try to edge my hips back and away.

"I'm awake," she tells me.

"I'm sorry," is all I can muster. "If I'm bothering you I can get up." She mulls that over for a while.

"No, I'm okay. Let us lay here for a while ... if you like."

"Can I tell you something that you won't take the wrong way?" I hazard. Again, a pause.

"Very well," she sighs.

"You smell really good," I sigh right back at her," more like fantastic. You are what a real woman should smell like; fresh and enticing."

"How can I not take that the wrong way?" she says.

"Can't a man call you a beautiful woman without trying come on to you? I'm calling it the way I see it and you are very attractive and way out of my league," I explain.

"Oh ... okay." It takes me a minute to realize we haven't moved. When she rolls over to face me I see a look of uncertainness in her eyes.

"I'm lonely," she tells me.

"I'll stay as long as you want me to, but I need something from you," I respond.

"What is that?" she wonders.

"I need to use your computer for my job search. As you told me I'm not very financially stable," I joke.

"You are a pain in my ass," she comments with some hint of friendliness. 

"I thought you rolled over so I wouldn't be a pain in your ass," I joke back.

"Are you ever serious?" she grouses.

"I think you need someone to make you laugh, even if that means you laugh at me instead of with me," I tell her. She then does something that scares the crap out of me and I've already had my fill of fear this weekend; she strokes my cheek and gets all teary-eyed.

"Where were you fifteen years ago," she whispers.

"In first grade," I tease her.

"I sometimes forget how young you are," she chuckles. "I could get in so much trouble for having you here with me."

"For what? We are no longer co-workers and we haven't done anything except talk and sleep under the same roof," I point out.

"I've always despised desperate older women who pick up young studs to make them feel special," she confides in me.

"Gloria you are neither old nor desperate and the only girl who has ever called me a stud was drunker than I was," I respond. She can't help but smile.

"I'm forty-one," she states.

"I'm twenty-two. Do we have to go down the 'you are smoking hot and me being a sexist' road again?" I taunt her.

"You treat women like disposable intersections in your life," she says painfully.

"What makes you think that? I spend time with women but I don't consider them disposable. We have fun together because we are young and not looking for long term hook-ups. You may have noticed I get along fine with both of the women I've had affairs with and neither minds one another."

"I thought it might be that you were good at manipulating women," she confides.

"Damn it Gloria," I groan, "not everything is part of a five year plan. Take a night off and let your hair down.

"I can't," she responds. I hug her to me because I don't know what else to do. At first I think she's pushing me away then I realize she's rubbing her hands along my chest. She sighs and presses her face into my chest, inhaling deeply several times.

"I've missed this," she whispers. I stroke her hair. "I can't remember the last time I wanted a man to hold me, or would even let one get away with it."

"Take as long as you want," I say softly. "I'm here as long as you need me." This causes her to bunch her hands up in my shirt scratching the skin underneath. I feel her tears soaking into the fabric.

"His name was Mr. Vance. He was the director before me and the day after my first promotion he came to my office after dark. He forced himself on me, telling me this was how I was going to get ahead in the corporation. I fought him but he was too strong. It hurt like hell," she hiccups.

"After that I told myself that if I went to the cops it would be his word against mine on whether it was consensual -- it would look like I paid for my promotion with sex. He was like you, very popular in the company. Then he came back again and again, giving me little gifts and telling me I was going to go far in the company."

"I couldn't let any other man touch me, even my husband. When he found the gifts he thought I was having an affair and divorced me. I allowed it to happen because I wanted to keep my job; to succeed. In a year he got tired of me and moved on to someone else no doubt. I let that happen as well. I lost everything but my job so my job became my life." 

At this time she totally breaks down and loses it. I am sure she has never told anyone this and I am not sure why she is telling me. She cries herself asleep and I gently rock her back and forth until I'm sure she is deeply asleep. I sneak downstairs and rustle up some breakfast and bring the trays of food back to the bed. The smells wake her up and she stares at me with red-rimmed eyes.

"Breakfast in bed? Uh, whoa ... you certainly know how to impress a girl," she sniffles.

"Don't say that until you eat my cooking," I smile. I set my tray down at the foot of the bed and let her scoot up in the bed before putting her tray in front of hers. I join her when this is done. Gloria nibbles on the food then dug in when she decided she liked it. 

She devours everything then boldly takes a piece of bacon off my plate. When she comes back for seconds I smack her hand with my fork. Her eyes open in shock, looking at me, her hand and back to me.

"You hit me," she stutters.

"Reach for my bacon again and I'll hit you harder," I challenge her. She still looks stunned.

"Can I have a piece of bacon?" she asks. I hand her my last piece of bacon which she eats it with dainty bites. "Breakfast was nice, thank you. Do you mind waiting outside? I would like to change into some workout clothes and use my treadmill for a bit."

Seeing Gloria come out in a sports bra and tight shorts doesn't do my blood pressure or groin any good. She gives me a quick glance then heads downstairs

"Come with me," she commands. Part of me goes 'she's not my boss', but part of me is entranced by the shapes and curves of her body so I tag along.

She is working out on the treadmill and I've made my way over to her weight machine when she speaks.

"I've been thinking about giving you your job back."

"Thank you; I agree but only if you accept that this won't impact our working relationship," I smile. She stops the treadmill and frowns at me.

"I repeat; can't you ever be serious?" she grumbles.

"I'd rather make you happy," I reply. She takes a looks down and growls.

"I'm trying to do you a favor," she says.

"Why?"

"Because you've been nice to me," she explains angrily.

"I'm your friend; I'm supposed to be nice to you," I answer.

"You are not my friend," she snaps.

"Then what am I to you?" I ask. That brings her up short. I can see the emotions she keeps trying to keep pent up forcing their way to the surface. A tear spills down her cheek.

"Damn it!" she screams. She keeps trying to exert control and she keeps cracking. I move to hold her again. "Get away from me!" she shouts at me so I pull up short. She runs upstairs and I make my way to the TV room and sit down. I'm beyond the limit of my understanding of this situation.

An unknown amount of time later she's standing beside me before I realize it. We exchange glances then she sits down beside me.

"I don't want to be alone," she says softly. It must be a terrible thing for her to admit. I ease an arm around her and she allows it. "I keep waiting for you to make a move on me."

"You don't think much of me then," I tell her.

"If things were perfectly normal would you sleep with me?" she probes.

"Hell yes," I reply. Her look goes from concern to one of subtle confidence.

"Yet you are restraining yourself because you are my friend?" she wonders.

"Now you get it," I inform her. It takes her a while to digest that.

"I want to go upstairs," she tells me as she stands. I nod and go back to watching the TV. "I want you to come with me," she adds. Now I'm back to being afraid. I stand up with a ton more reluctance. She leads the way to her bedroom with me dragging along because I feel this is a terrible mistake. Inside the bedroom Gloria throws back the covers on the bed, strips out of her sports bra, and pulls down her workout pants and underwear in one strong pull.

As she slips into bed I see that she's staring at me and starting to get annoyed.

"You still have your clothes on," she states the obvious. I start stripping down as quickly as I can. When I finish she slips over so I can join her in the bed. I decide not provide her the need for further instructions. 

I roll over and kiss her. Her return is tentative and a bit weak but I keep at it. I run a hand over her stomach and she tightens up. I'm still not sure this is the right thing; arguing with her about it seems counterproductive. We keep kissing as my hand comes up to her breast. I'm teasing and pulling on her nipple and getting no reaction. 

I keep at it for a minute and am starting to get frustrated at the lack of physical response. I reach down to her stomach, pubic mound and finally her pussy. What I find is very disturbing; she's dry. I'm getting nowhere and getting there fast then I am reminded that it is not the game, it is the players.

Pushing her to the middle of the bed earns me an angry look. What follows adds uncertainty to the expression; I pull her on top of me. She sort of lays there for a few seconds.

"Push up," I suggest. She follows my idea and I pry one of her hands back and lower it between us until I put her hand on my penis. "Hold the shaft." She does so and I move my hand away.

"Move your hand up and down," I say.

"I don't get it," she admits.

"You are on top, you are in charge, and you get to decide what pace we move along at," I explain. She sighs, but begins giving me the appropriate hand job.

"Now run my penis head along your slit," I say next. Again she seems unimpressed but continues under my guidance. I start running my hands along her ass and back pulling her down to me in a steady rhythm. 

"Ah," she moans as we both realize she's starting to get wet. 

Gloria moves my shaft with more vigor until my head is coated in her juices. I'm about to give her another suggestion when she decides to take over. She inserts my head inside of her.

"Oh," she purrs. Her eyes close and she starts grinding her hips against me. I start countering her thrusts driving my cock deeper and deeper into her. She's not super-tight, but I can feel her around me and as she begins contracting her muscles the sensation is quite divine.

Gloria's hand can no longer fit so she pulls her arm back and returns to supporting herself with both arms. Since she isn't coming down, I prop myself on my elbows and go up. I capture a nipple in my mouth and begin to suckle. This time her nipple hardens immediately as I swirl it with my tongue and let it roll over my teeth. Her response is to move a hand over and feed more of the breast into my mouth.

We keep this up for several minutes until she pulls up, sitting on me and riding me as hard as she can. I'm matching her thrust with a counter-thrust. My hands rest on her hips, rocking her back as she comes down.

"Eddie ... Eddie ... I'm cumming ... Yes, yes ... oh yes!" she screams and my groin dampens. She shakes and pulses again and again before crashing down on top of me.

She is panting and I can feel her heart racing. I run my hands along her upper back and through her hair. Her head comes up and I kiss her gently.

"That was fun," I grin. She smiles at me then kisses me back.

"How did you figure out ..." she asks.

"You like control and being on top gives you control. You had to be comfortable to get what you wanted so I tried what I hoped would help. I'm glad it worked," I tell her.

"I want a shower," she groans with pleasure as she flexes her muscles on top of me. She scoots out of bed and takes a few steps toward the door.

"Aren't you coming?" she says. "That wasn't really a request in case you were wondering." With those kinds of options I get up and follow her. To her credit she gets the towels and tests the waters before we get in. Then she does something even more remarkable; she starts bathing me.

I really think that is a treat and it is, but then I get to stop her from bathing herself and take over the chore which is even better. She seems uncertain at first but soon gets into it enough so shift her body in response to my movements. When we get out she creates some distance between us when we dry off. I follow her as we go back to the bedroom where she flops down on the bed and I crawl in over her.

"What brought this on?" I inquire. She takes a deep breath before answering.

"As you pointed out, I've accomplished a lot in my forty-one years, but I've given up a lot too. I realized that not only did he rape me for that year, he's been raping me for the past fifteen years because I've never dealt with it."

"You reminded me that if I could succeed at everything else, I could deal with this too. I had to be strong enough now with you, or I might not get another chance. I was really afraid that I could see past all those years of pain, but you showed me the way by proving you know me almost as well as I know myself," she states. I really have no idea what to say.

"Let's get dressed," she suddenly suggests. We rapidly get dressed and go downstairs which only adds to my confusion to what is on her mind. She its down at the kitchen table, but when I don't join her she looks over to me questioningly.

"You have your job back," she announces.

"Thanks but why?" I respond.

"Let's say that I've come to appreciate your finer qualities; your ability to work in a team, to see your goals through, and to put the needs of others over your own," she explains. "Of course this will never happen again."

"What? Why?"

"I'm not going to have an office affair, especially with someone beneath me in the company," she says.

"In that case I quit," I answer her. Her eyes grow large then angry.

"I'm doing you a favor damn it," she snaps.

"If given the choice of working beneath you or spending time with you, I opt to be with you," I tell her.

"Who says that I want to be with you?" she growls. I have no real answer to that.

"Oh, I imagine you are right. If you feel that way I had better go," I admit. I walk over to her, grab her up and kiss her hard. She struggles briefly but ends up returning my kiss with passion. I let her go and head out to the door. Only when I'm at the entryway do I realize she's behind me.

"What was that for?" she asks.

"I wanted to. I don't image I need another reason, but if it makes you feel better it was because I knew kissing you would great," I answer.

"Take your job back," she tells me. I shake my head.

"No. I'm not sure I want to work for you anymore," I confess. She remains speechless. "I'm not sure I can forget this so it is probably better if we part ways. You are a wonderful woman; I'm not going to see past that, so I'm better off going somewhere else."

"Go then," she snaps. I'm out the door in seconds. This time I've remembered everything so there is no turning back.

I use a combination of transit systems to get home because I don't have enough for a cab. I'm so lost in my own thoughts when I get to my apartment complex that I almost miss the sound of a window going down. I look over to see Gloria looking at me intently from her car.

"Come here," she orders.

"No," I respond. "It is late, I'm tired, and I can't imagine you telling me anything I want to hear," I answer her.

"Damn you; I didn't come all the way down here only to be told to go to hell," she snarls. I lower my head and walk over to her.

"Kiss me," I insist.

"No," she snaps.

"I want you, I think you want me, so kiss me," I repeat. I lean into her and she doesn't pull away. I get my kiss and then some as I run my hands around her neck and through her hair.

"Get in the car," she asks softly.




Mrs. Hardison Ch. 01



"That's a good idea because I've already seen several of my neighbors eyeing us as possible organ donors," I inform her. She eyes me suspiciously then decides that I may not be joking.

"I'll drive," she decides. I get in and she takes off. It takes a while before she says anything.

"I don't know what I'm doing with you," she confesses.

"That may not be a bad thing," I suggest.

"I find you confusing, irritating, and distracting. Do you realize I've gotten no work done this weekend? I have things that need to be done, but instead I'm driving around in a car with you," she growls.

"Will the world fall apart tomorrow if you don't get things done until noon?" I ask.

"That's not the point ... fine, no, the world will not end," she grumbles.

"Was that so hard to accept? You are a great director and it isn't because you work eighty hours a week. You know how to make people produce, which is your job as I see it. Delegate a little more responsibility." 

"Are you telling me how to do my job?" she accuses me. "I thought you knew I was the best in my field."

"No, I'm telling you how to have fun and I think I'm better at having fun is a point you will concede to me," I counter.

"Conceded," she admits. "The thing is do I need to change?"

"Can you be honest with me?" I ask.

"What ... okay."

"Tell me the first thing that comes to mind," I request. "Do you want to have sex with me right now?"

"... Yes," she confesses.

"Why?"

"Because I had a good time," she tells me. "I had a really good time."

"Good, because I want you so bad right now," I respond. The look she gives me is a mixture of distrust, fear, and lust. She turns the car around and heads in another direction.

"Promise me one thing," she requests.

"I'll try."

"Monday morning you will take you job back," she asks.

"Not if it means I never get to see you again," I say again.

"I will see what I can do, but I do not promise anything," she concedes but she smiles when she does it.

"Okay, though this is hardly where I expected to be Friday afternoon," I tell her. "I never thought I would ever have a chance with you."

"Eddie you have an easy time with girls half my age as we both know. Why are you even bothering with me?" she inquires.

"Your age doesn't bother me; does my age bother you?" I counter.

"I worry how it looks," she confides in me. "Everyone is going to think I'm insecure because I'm dating such a young man, and they are going to think you are sleeping your way to the top."

"Do you think I'm sleeping my way to the top?"

"No," she replies.

"I know you are not insecure and that you really don't care what people think about you, so what I really think you are worried about is how you feel," I point out.

"You never let up, do you?" Gloria sighs. "When I figure out how I feel about you I'll let you know, but give me time." Words aren't necessary when a nod is enough. The rest of the drive is made in silence but I take the time to start rubbing my hand from knee to hip. She squirms slightly but since she wouldn't have let a man touch her two days ago I take whatever positive reaction I can get.

I catch up with her inside the door. I wrap my arms around her; one hand on her stomach and the other caressing her arm as I press my body against her. Gloria tenses, slowly turns around and looks me straight in the eyes.

"Not from behind, please," she says with vulnerability.

"Whatever you want," I respond before I kiss her hungrily. She responds with more passion than she's ever shown before. This time it isn't a test, it is something she wants for desire's sake and the woman is she explosive. She starts working my clothes off; I return the favor.

"I don't want to make love on the floor," she gasps between lip locks.

I'm in my underwear and socks and she's in panties when she turns for the stairs. My idea is to catch up with her and pinch her sweet ass but she proves to be a nimble minx and I don't touch her until she flops down on her back on the bed. I land on top of her and return to exploring her with my mouth and hands.

I pull her panties down and start kissing my way from her knee to her hip when she grabs me by the hair and yanks.

"Ow!" I yap.

"I want to be on top," she demands. 

I speed my way beside her and he pushes me over and straddles me. She holds me down with her hands on my shoulders with a seriously hungry smile on her face. At this time it occurs to me that Gloria Hardison has fifteen years of sexual frustration and denial to work out and I'm the poor stupid bastard she's focused on. I start to put my hands on her.

"Stop," she commands so I lay my arms back down. She proceeds to lower herself down, kiss me lightly but when I raise my head to get more she withdraws and gives me this wicked grin.

"Just so we get this straight," she taunts me, "I'm fucking you, you are not fucking me."

"Do I have a choice?" I reply quietly.

"Not really," she teases me with a grind of her naked groin against me. I accept that. "And I'm not going to be gentle." Once again she reaches down between us and grabs my cock. This time she has no problem with the entry; she sopping wet. What follows convinces me of several things: I need to exercise more if I have any hope of keeping up with Gloria; she's a fount of sexual energy as she rides through two orgasms before I have mine, and she didn't lie about not being gentle. Damn my lungs hurt, my muscles are sore, and I'm afraid my dick won't stand up for a month.

She's lying down on top of me, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Fuck Eddie, that was fantastic," she wheezes.

"What are you talking about," I jokingly gasp, "you did all the work; I sat back and enjoyed the view." She pushes herself up high enough so we are nose-tip to nose-tip.

"Let's do it again," she manages to get out.

"Woman, I would like to live," I groan. "Keep this up and you are going to fuck me to death."

"I thought all you young men had stamina," she teases. I look at the clock.

"Fuck it woman, we had sex for forty minutes," I respond.

"Forty minutes? Don't you mean 'only forty minutes'," she says. Once more I'm at the 'I want to cry' stage. What have I unleashed?

(Monday morning)

"Eddie, you look like crap," my boss, Mr. Chu jokes. "Have a wild weekend?"

"I spent most of the time in bed," I reply blandly.

"I bet you did," he laughs, "but I'm not here to talk about your sex life. The Director herself commented on the good job you did on those certifications and she wants you to handle a new important project."

"Really?" I try to act surprised and not overly anxious. "I think my social calendar has just been annihilated."

"Be in her office at ten promptly and she'll give you your new security clearance. Don't be late; you know what a bitch she can be," he warns me.

At 9:55 I'm standing in front of her office with Leslie Cutler, Gloria's assistant, smiling at me. We strike up a bit of a conversation, she flirts but we both see her flash the wedding band. She's not looking to get a little on the side and she knows I'm not really trying. It is a nice little game to play that lets a lady know she's attractive without putting her at risk of doing anything wrong.

"You can go in now," Leslie informs me, "and good luck." I take a deep breath and go in.

Inside she waits until I am standing in front of her desk before addressing me.

"Mr. Duarte I am assigning you a new project for the department. I expect constant reports as well as updates on demand. You are going to hand all personnel files to see they are up to date from this time onward. You report to Leslie when I am unavailable."

"May I ask a question?" I say.

"Make it quick," she replies.

"Why me?"

"This is going to be an unpopular job Mr. Duarte and for whatever arcane reason you are well liked, so you get the assignment," she explains.

"I won't let you down," I promise her.

"You had better not. You already have one strike against you in my book," she states. "Now here is your new security pass and administrator password." She slid me my new pass, a slip of paper, and a key ... a house key. 



Mrs. Hardison Ch. 02



*Running away only works if you know what you are running from*

(Again, I have to thank a few of my commenters for ideas that I think improve this story immensely)

(I'd also like to say that this is not a story of domination, or someone changing who they are overnight. In this story sex is not a panacea.)

*

If I had any illusions that my weekend with Mrs. Hardison had earned me anything by end of business Monday they had all evaporated. I had to start up a project, get everyone aware of what I needed from them, and be constantly on call for information I barely knew how to find. I got home to my hovel at ten.

Tuesday I had to set up meetings, go to meetings and deliver a status update to Leslie all before noon. Now that the easy part of my day was over I had to actually get working on the project. In the midst of this I got dragged off to a security briefing I didn't have to be at and then I got buried in calls explaining to me why people couldn't do what I wanted to do for the rest of the day. I was home at nine-thirty.

Wednesday was more of the same; pointless meetings, tons of excuses that basically boiled down to me being a jumped-up twerp with no authority and since they didn't 'have' to do it, they weren't going to do it. I countered with a charm campaign, doing end runs around some of the people giving me crap and personally going to the people I needed to talk to. I was home by eight, but I told my friend the drug dealer on the street corner I was considering his job offer.

Thursday was wonderful. Three people way over my head spent some of their precious time firing off e-mails my way telling me they were going to have my ass for going behind their backs. Two of them threatened to have me fired. I resisted the temptation to tell them to get the fuck in line. Leslie called for an update, I told her I wasn't done and she told me to bring up what I had. I printed it up and went to face the music.

"Hey," Leslie smiles to me. She develops a worried expression as she sees the hang-dogged look on my face. "Is it really that bad?" I hand her my work to date. She looks at it and shakes her head. "This isn't good." She gets up and goes into Mrs. Hardison's office. A minute later she steps out and ushers me in.

Gloria Hardison sits behind her Spartan desk with everything a neat arrangement and everything in its place no doubt. She is reviewing my hardcopy; thumbing through what little I have compiled, a strand of her thin black hair slipping along the delicate curve of her cheek. "Why has Mr. Fujiwara's section not filed any work with you yet?" she says in a clipped tone.

"The long version or the short version," I respond in a tired voice. I figure I am about to go down in flames. Gloria pierces me with a soul-searing glance. "Long version; his department is busy and he'll get to it in due time. Short version; he told me to stuff it up my ass," I explain. 

"Leslie, get Mr. Fujiwara in my office immediately," Mrs. Hardison communicates to her assistant. Gloria goes back to work and I stand around uselessly. My phone rings, I answer it and I have a quick conversation with a co-worker who is actually cooperating. All the while Gloria doesn't seem to notice I'm in the room.

Even when Fujiwara walks in the room she doesn't look up until she's finished whatever she's working on. "Mr. Fujiwara, do you know Mr. Duarte?" "Yes Mrs. Hardison," he responds.

"Are you aware of his project?" "Yes I am aware but ..." he stammers. "I give you a set number of projects to supervise, I give you a set amount of time to accomplish these goals and I figure in such things as overlap and acceptable delays. This project is an acceptable delay, so why haven't you been assisting Mr. Duarte?" 

"I'll get right on it," he says softly. "What strike is this Mr. Fujiwara?" He doesn't answer. "The answer is three. Clear out your desk and have security process you by end of business. Good day," she said dismissively. The man stumbles out of the office. This is why she's called The Bitch.

"If you have any other problems contact Leslie," she tells me. "Leslie, see that Mr. Fujiwara is removed from the building by five and put a lock on his systems. Inform Harriett List that she's been temporarily promoted," Mrs. Hardison says over her mouth piece then gets back to her work. I stand at attention, turn and leave hoping my sweat isn't showing.

I sometimes forget what a terrible unforgiving bitch she can be, but by the end of business I have people stumbling over themselves to get me what I need. I get home at ten again and I'm really starting to hope I get mugged just so I can sleep it off in some police precinct. I go in early only so I can catch up with all the stuff I should have been doing Tuesday and Wednesday.

At noon Leslie gives me a call and I show up at her desk. I wait for a few people to file out and Gloria's lunch to arrive before I get ushered in. Again I feel like a fly in a massive spider's web. "You've been putting in a great deal of overtime," she comments without looking up. "Yes Mrs. Hardison, but I'm putting the time to productive use. I hope to have a strong alpha model up by Wednesday." She looks up and me and I can't tell if she's angry or happy; she's like a robot, cold and pitiless.

"That is acceptable," she nods. "Friday would have been fine." "Thank you," I sigh. "That wasn't a compliment Mr. Duarte, it was an assessment of the situation," she says evenly. "So, are you working late tonight?"

"I ..." I stammer because there is no way I can judge what the right answers are. "I am ... staying ... no ... I'm leaving on time tonight," I manage to get out." She goes back to her work without physically acknowledging my response. "You may go," she dismisses me.

(Friday Night) I'm working up some stir-fry using the instructions from one of Gloria's cook books at her place. I think I'm doing it okay, but I haven't cooked this in three years. I hear noise from the front of the building but I can't abandon my food so I'm still cooking away when two arms wrap themselves around me and a head presses against my back.

"I still wasn't sure you would be here," she murmurs to me. "I wasn't sure I'd be here Gloria. I'm dog tired," I answer. I am not going to directly complain about work. In a way it isn't Gloria's fault; it is Mrs. Hardison's. "What are you cooking?" she sniffs.

"I remembered you like Chinese so I got us some fresh produce from the market and I am cooking what I hope will be duck," I respond. "It smells good," she sighs as she ran her hands up and down my chest. "Let me go up and change." I have finished by the time she comes back down in a sweat shirt and shorts; I'm pretty sure she's braless.

"Damn," I whisper but she hears me anyway. "What is it?" she questions. "I can't get over how beautiful you are," I tell her. She carefully weighs my statement within her intriguingly sharp mind.

"I like that," she accepts my honesty. "Now I'd like to eat," she informs me. I dole out two helpings and set the plates down on the table. When she is about to dig in I pull her plate away. "What?" she reacts suspiciously. "Kiss the cook," I command. 

We lock gazes and I can feel her desire to dominate and control me, but there is something else there as well, slowly growing in her mind; it is the desire for companionship. Gloria stands up and leans across table, kissing me. She tastes sweet like ginger on my tongue. I slip her plate back to her and she digs in.

"Good," she says as she finishes and uses a napkin to dab her lips. "You wouldn't want to disappoint me tonight." "Oh, bad day?" I ask cautiously. "Bad week," she answers. "I have this employee who needs me to hold his hand the entire time. It is really trying. He is in severe need of motivation."

"What is their boss like? Sometimes the problem is with the leadership," I suggest. "Oh, the boss in this case is sharp, understanding, and inspirational," she informs me. "I envy him," I respond. "My boss is a real ball-buster, tyrant, and uses fear as a motivational technique." Gloria glares at me.

"Do they have any good qualities?" she warns me. "She's breathtakingly attractive, sexually demanding, and incredibly intelligent to the point of erotic captivation," I admit. "Highly intelligent people are often misunderstood by the less gifted," Gloria points out.

"In my experience the best thing about intelligent people that you are always learning something new and exciting about them," I tell her. "That works for me, but what do you plan to stay interesting?" she taunts me. "I was planning to read Fifty Shades of Gray for relationship advice," I grin.

"I'm surprised," Gloria states. "Are you really interested in that kind of thing?" I ask. "No, I surprised you can read," is her biting commentary. This make me stand up and come around the table. Gloria stands to meet me and when I put my arms around the small of her back, she put her hands against my shoulders to keep my lips at bay.

"No," she declares as she keeps me from her. I get within a hair's breathe of her face and stop. Our eyes meet and neither one of us blinks. "I want you," I say hoarsely. She shakes her head in the negative. We remain locked until her whole energy changes.

"Kiss me," she commands. I hesitate but her eyes draw me in. No sooner than our tongues touch does she pull back again and hugs me. "I've missed you," she admits. "Do you know how hard it is to see you at your desk and not come around and kiss you?" I tell her gently.

"I know," she sighs. "Now that I know what it is like to have your arms around me it is hard to not want to come down to you for a quick hug. When I get home the house feels so empty now." "I'm a phone call away," I respond. "I've been paying attention to your hours. You need your sleep and I want you to do well ... for that tyrant of a boss."

"Don't worry about that one; I have a few things in mind for her," I hint at her wickedly. Gloria is clearly torn between her own sexuality and her desire to know and control events. "Can you give me a preview?" she murmurs. "Not right now, but maybe in about an hour after we've had a chance to digest our dinners. I have some work to finish anyway," I groan. Gloria gives me a lingering kiss and smiles.

"Nice dodge Mr. Duarte. Lucky for you I have work to do too," she concedes. She makes her way to the living room and gets out her computer. I take the time to clean up the kitchen before joining her. She sits on the sofa and I take a seat at her feet. I'm working away when I feel her fingers running through my thick brown hair and I stop to relish the sensation.

Before I can react she stops and I hear her working once more. Promptly one hour later she closes her laptop and nudges me with her foot. "I'm ready," she informs me. "I'm not," I reply.

"I don't care," she counters. When I don't move she nudges me again and then a bit harder. "I want to go upstairs," she insists. I cleverly remain unresponsive and I can hear a deep panther-like rumbling from her but then something changes. She leans forward and whispers in my ear. "If you beat me upstairs you can do whatever you want to me."

In retrospect I should have known that I was starting off on the floor while she was sitting on the sofa, but I can't claim the incentive wasn't worth it. Her eyes are feverish with the rush of victory as she beckons me close once we are in her bedroom. She sits on the bed and opens her legs, drawing me forward. She pushes me down so that I am on my knees.

"What would you have done if I beat you up here?" I have to ask. "Given you whatever you wanted," she admits. "I knew I should have tripped you," I mutter. "You would have cheated to get me," she inquires intently.

"No; when I get you I'll earn it," I respond with intensity. I know I'm going to have her one day. She kisses me over much of my face. Gloria reaches out and undoes my tie, pulling it free and using the action to pull me into her bosom. She has me stand and starts unbuttoning my shirt striping me of it in two brutal yanks.

"Come here," she tells me. As I do she runs her hands over my chest and shoulders breathing and kissing my nipples. I put my hands on her shoulders and a she considers it before giving me the nod. I grasp her sweat shirt and remove it with languid grace. Her breasts swing free with just a hint of sag but in my mind that curvature makes them all the more desirable.

I move to stroke them but she shakes her head. Damn this woman is driving me crazy. She starts working my belt buckle off instead. When my pants fall down; she takes a minute to caress my hard-on through my boxers. "Please," I beg because my desire has become so strong for her.

"Ssshhh ..." she purrs, "I'm getting used to having a lover. I'm getting used to having you. Now finish taking your clothes off," she says gently. I kneel; take off my shoes then pants. While I'm kneeling before her once more she stands up. She wiggles out of her shorts and just like she had no bra on, she has no underwear on underneath either. I press in and kiss her pubic area. This she allows and puts her hand on my head.

I bring my hand up her thighs until I grabbed hold of her buttocks all the while kissing her and breathing in deeply of her musk. Gloria rocks back and forth and this allows me to lick her labia with a quick jabs of my tongue. I move one of her legs up on the bed so she is balancing on the other, allowing me better access her pussy; now I have full contact along the entire length.

"Good boy," she murmurs. "That's it." I rub my lower lip along her labia and drive my tongue into her until she shakes. Now I pull back and Gloria looks down on me with some consternation. "Who is fucking who?" I taunt her with her fluids on my lips. "Don't stop," she demands. I stick a finger into her and swirl it around until she gasps.

"Who is fucking who?" I repeat. "Damn you," she whispers. I stop moving my finger around and she groans. "You are fucking me," she confesses desperately. I willfully return my attentions to her pussy. With fingers, lips, tongue and teeth I have her gasping and pushing my head in.

She keeps pushing into my mouth and I keep pressing back setting us in a rocking motion that permits me to delve even deeper. "Eddie," she mewls which suggests to me she wants the tease and not the climax. I take it nice and easy and she rewards me with some heavy breathing.

"Lower," she whispers. I lick lower until I'm at the end of her pussy. "Lower," she repeats with eager gasps. I start to wonder where this is going, but I not lick beneath cunt going farther and farther back until my neck hurts and my tongue touches her anus. "Oh," she groans loudly, "Yes." I pull back.

"I'm not sure about this," I inform her. "Continue," she urges me. When I still look hesitant she adds, "Please." My experiences with anal sex consist of one drunken night with a rather kinky girl. That Gloria would be into this is mind-blowing. I try to go back in but the angle is too uncomfortable so I quickly figure out that I need to wet two fingers and start pushing one in.

This gets her heart racing and her breath is becoming deep and ragged. I start sucking and nibbling all along her pussy letting my tongue dance around and leaving no velvety fold neglected. The leg supporting her weight starts trembling and the vibrations creep up her body. When she starts to convulse I try to hold her up with my own free hand. 

I fail and she falls back on the bed. I pull my finger out of her anus while I kiss my way up her stomach. "I cannot remember anyone else touching me in such a way and giving me such pleasure," she lauds me. I guess that is a version of thank you. I kiss my way up to her breastbone and coax a response from one of her nipples with my fingers. I'm still between her legs and I'm close to entering her.

"Not right now," she says with more compassion than normal. I roll to the side and scoot up beside her. Unbidden she rolls into me and puts a hand on my stomach. She looks over for some time before tears well up in her eyes filled with pain and self-loathing. I try to hold her close but she stops me.

"Why?" she starts to sob. I feel I know what this means. "You have so much to work through Gloria. You can't hope that is something that is going to be over in one day, one week, or one month," I tell her. "It hurts so much and I hate feeling this way ... weak. I'm not weak," she seethes. "Why did you do to this me?"

"I don't think I can express how much it hurts me to see the pain in your eyes right now," I apologize. "You are not weak; in fact you are the strongest woman I know. I'm not going to let you down and I'm going to do whatever it takes for you to get through this." She puts her head on my chest, tears slowly rolling down on me.

"Damn it," she sobs softly. "I used to love without reservation. I find myself wanting to pull away and drive you out, but I want you to stay as well. It is crazy." "Thanks for taking me back. Walking out on you was the hardest thing I've ever done," I confess. We stay together for what me a half an hour before her self-control wins out of her anguish.

"I want to go to sleep now," she sniffles. "Go get me a nightshirt -- top drawer." I obediently get out of bed then an idea occurs to me. I reach down, pick up my dress shirt and toss it to her. "Funny," she snorts. We look at each other before she sighs and puts it on. She turns over, crawls beneath the covers and rolls onto her side away from me. I cut off the lights and join her, but not a word is spoken before we both drift off to sleep.

(Saturday) I'm not sure what makes me wake up, but the first hints of sunrise are pushing aside the night sky when I do. I look over, noticing that she's moved closer to me and rolled onto her back, the pale pink skin of her face and chest contrasted with her free-flowing black hair. I turn over onto my elbow and kiss her lightly on the lips. She smiles and murmurs so I kiss her again; she responds by moving closer to me.

I have a decision to make; I could gently shake her awake or I could experiment with the boundaries we've set up -- how much sex is too much. I nudge the shirt aside exposing a nipple. I tickle it with my tongue getting an instant reaction and a slight intake of breathe. I move with a little more passion and she starts to squirm.

I kiss my way down to her belly button and give it light touches with the tongue. I move a hand down and she's wet and sexually ready. I rise up over her carefully moving her legs aside before letting my penis touch her pussy. She moans, thrusts her hips up incrementally and lets me press past her lips. I push deeper with incredible care with her breathe deepening.

"Ummm, that feels nice," she moans sleepily; "morning sex." "I was afraid I'd freak you out, but I wanted to make you happy too," I say. She wraps her arms around my neck and starts pushing back against my thrusts. "I approve of your initiative Mr. Duarte," she sighs with pleasure.

I thrust with more urgency until I see her lazy smile turn into panic. "Wait! Put on a rubber," he demands. "What ... I," I stammer. "I'm not on the pill," he explains. Oh crap!

"The side drawer," she instruct hastily. As concern rushes over me I feel her still thrusting against me. I reluctantly pull out and then race for the brand new box of prophylactics. Gloria is doing a little self-stimulation until I station myself back between her legs. She bites her lip and looks at me with a seductive and devilish expression meant to drive me crazy with lust. I happily enter her welcoming vagina once more.

"Oh God," she greets me. "Yes, keep at it," she urges me on as she once more wraps her arms around my neck and captivates me with her hungry gaze. "Do you like this?" she taunts. "I can't get enough of you Gloria. I don't want this to ever stop," I respond. "Good boy," she coos. I can sense her getting off on her newfound sexual control both emotionally and physically.




Mrs. Hardison Ch. 02



Her heavy breathing turns to panting and then to short, sharp intakes of breath. "Oh God Ed ... oh God!" she screams out as she pushes herself as hard down on me as she can. I pick up my pace and her breasts are bouncing from my thrusts. Her gaze latches on to me once more; her legs wrap around my ass and spur me along.

"That is it," she whispers; "give it to me Eddie." She draws herself to me and starts breathing into my ear. I feel myself tightening up and make three more sharp thrusts before I explode inside her. "Good morning," I gasp. She's still grinding her hips against me and grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Good morning," she smiles in a satisfied superior way. Even when I initiate sex she still manages to take control. This woman has no quit in her. "One day I am going to make you my own," I promise her. "I welcome the challenge Mr. Duarte," she purrs in delight.

The things which follow are typically normal yet new and special. We work out, shower, grab breakfast and then start working again. We both need to accomplish much before Monday gets here. We start out in the normal position; she on the sofa cross-legged while I'm on the floor at her feet but somewhere in the process she glides down beside me so we are working together in silence.

I can guess what is going through her mind; she's glad to see me working on the project she's entrusted me with and I know she wants to be proud of me. There is also the comfort of sharing your workspace with someone with the same interests. Finally she's felt lonely until now and she's soaking up my presence so close to her.

While I'm running some numbers I sneak a hand onto Gloria's knee and rub a finger along her kneecap. She doesn't acknowledge me but that's not a denial either. "I want to go out," I tell her. She doesn't respond in any meaningful manner for a bit. "Where?" is her curt reply.

"I don't know," I say. Gloria gives an exasperated mutter. "We are going to wander the streets?" she mocks me. "Now that's a great idea," I grin. "When was the last time you walked around this neighborhood? You have parks, little specialty shops a few blocks over, and the architecture here is exceptional."

"Have you been internet searching this instead of working?" she accuses me, but there is a smile on her lips. "I can do both," I tease her. "I'm good with my hands." Gloria put her computer up and stands. "Very well Mr. Duarte, I accept your proposal. Let's get dressed," she allows. "Also, if you can catch me you can have me," and she is off like a shot.

This time I catch her right inside the door which is faster than my previous attempt. "Good Mr. Duarte, but not good enough," she breathes. She lets me hold onto her ass cheeks and rub my hands over them a few seconds before forcing her way free. Gloria and I strip down and start getting dressed, each stealing glances at each other, because there is something about a scantily clad form that draws the eye to it.

She's dressed in a nice pants suit while I'm in a t-shirt and jeans which leaves each of us a bit upset with the other. I'm not dressed for her upscale neighborhood and she's not dressed to have fun yet somehow we make a couple. "I'm not sure this is a good idea; I don't know what to do," she worries when we step outside. "Let's not do this."

I grab her by the arm and keep her going down the street while she struggles against me. "Trust me," I say calmly. "You have nothing to be ashamed of. We are two people out enjoying a sunny day." I know I'm dragging her out of her comfort zone; that's the point. She can be so strong and I'm going to remind her of that.

She is too self-possessed to glance around but she incrementally relaxes when no one reacts to us. We get some ice cream cones and I can tell she loves it. I can't imagine she's done anything close to this in fifteen years. The park looks good and she looks even better with the sun glancing off her hair and this subtle pleasure playing across her face.

"Take me home," she directs me. The walk back is done in silence but once she gets back she turns to me. "What did that accomplish?" Emotionally she's pushing me away again. "Don't be a bitch," I say and immediately regret. Her face hardens. "Upset because things didn't work out as you planned?" she mocks me. 

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to say that. Sometimes it is one step forward, two steps back with us," I explain. She's clearly still angry but she manages a curt nod. "I accept your apology," she states with no visible emotion. I reach forward to hold her and she pulls away. "No." She heads upstairs and I give her space because I don't know what to do.

I sit down and start working again. I hear her coming in but keep my nose to the grindstone. "Eddie, if you are going to stay with me you have to do things my way," she tells me. "Okay," I respond immediately. She studies me then nods and leaves. When Gloria gets back she resumes her seat on the sofa like nothing has happened. 

I'm beginning to think I totally fucked things up when she starts running her hands through my hair again. I put my hand up, she lets me run my fingers over hers, and we linger for a second or two before she resumes work. "If you get the project in by Wednesday I'd like to celebrate," she says out of the blue.

"What do you have in mind?" I reply. "I could cook you dinner," she answers, which stuns me. I didn't think she knew how to cook. "That sounds great. What are we having?" I inquire. "Steak strips, rice and vegetables," she responds. I look up at her.

"That sounds great; when do you want me to show up?" "Seven," she fires off. I am really beginning to think she doesn't know what she's doing. "What do I owe you for dinner last night? I know you are on a restricted budget." "Can't I provide dinner for my girl?" I ask her. Gloria arches an eyebrow.

"If you want to have financial equality in our relationship so be it," is her answer. Another woman might respect that decision but to Mrs. Hardison it is a test; nothing more and nothing less. "I expect to be eating steak on Wednesday," she challenges me. "Sleep is overrated," I tell her. She starts to think I'm joking then she sees the determination in my eyes.

We are sitting around the table eating some Italian takeout when something I've been meaning to ask her comes back to the forefront of my mind. "Do you really like anal sex?" Not the best dinner conversation but suddenly I want to know. I'm not sure what kind of reaction I'll get.

"Oh God yes," she exclaims excitedly. "Ever since college I've loved it," she adds with a pleasurable sigh. This is not at all what I was looking for. She looks at me with a sly grin. "This is not what you expected me to say?" "Maybe not with such enthusiasm," I admit.

"Am I too experienced for you?" she questions. "I would say you are more experienced, but I'm looking forward to catching up," I promise her. "Who says I'll ever let you catch up?" she says. "I will never know unless I try," I respond.

"Ambition becomes you Mr. Duarte," she smiles. "What can I say; I'm highly motivated," I shoot right back. Gloria loves ambition and she loves being desired so it is a win-win for her and I can see that excitement in her eyes. I wonder if this was what it was like with her husband all those years ago. I can't see her with just any man.

After that foray into the erotic the rest of dinner is mundane, domestic talk. When we finish I convince Gloria to put work aside and watch some Masterpiece Theater. I have my arm around her in no time and she has a hand on my thigh. When I get back with some wine from the kitchen she's moved to the far side of the sofa with her feet up and I want to groan.

She gets her wine and I get mine and I've positioned myself on the opposite side of the sofa with my feet touching hers. I am watching the show when I feel her feet going soul to soul with mine. I don't think much about it until she starts to push my legs back. I counter and soon an all-out foot war is going on. Now I know she wasn't pulling back when she chose to sit where she sat, she was setting me up for this contest.

"Let's put our wines down before something bad happens," she suggests. I nod but when I put my down she launches a surprise attack. My legs are pushed up and back and I'm struggling to get back down to the midpoint. Gloria's legs are turning out to be too strong and I finally have to give up.

"You cheated," I accuse her. "No Mr. Duarte, I showed initiative and planning," she laughs. "You relied on raw talent alone." "How come with me it is cheating and with you it is initiative?" I grouse. "Because I'm the Boss," she grins. I've had enough so I grab her legs and yank her toward me. I dive between her legs and land on top of her.

"No," she laughs playfully so I risk ignoring her and press her down. She taps me on the chest making mock protests and when I try to kiss her she swings her head from side to side avoiding me. I sneak down onto her neck and starts sucking. First she squawks but those protests turn into moans.

"Tell me you're sorry," I taunt her. "Never!" she shouts. We find ourselves dry humping when she grabs my head and looks deep into my eyes. "What are we going to do when you get tired of sex with me?" "I don't know; I don't plan fifty years in advance," I tease. I can tell by her expression that she likes that answer because we are kissing passionately in seconds.

"We are going upstairs," she informs me. For a fraction of a second I feel like resisting but then I'd be a fool to deny what I want so I'm pulling her up and dragging her to the bedroom instead. We roll around on the bed groping and pawing one another.  "I want you to be on top," I smile because I've beaten her to the punch and she knows it.

Now she can get what she wants, or she can spite me in a fit of control. This time I've trumped her and passion trumps intellect. I have her naked in under thirty seconds. "Condom," she reminds me. As she mounts me I grab a double-handful of her breast and I love the heaviness of them in my hands.

Gloria is so enthusiastic that she is literally bouncing on me pushing her toward climax. "I told you I had to be in charge," she gasps. "I'm showing initiative and planning," I pant. "Fuck you," she cries out between sharp intakes of breath.

"Isn't that the point," I taunt her. She responds by grinding down even harder. "Who is fucking who?" she demands. "You are fucking me," I confess. "Damn right," she grins triumphantly. "You are mine; all mine." "I'm going to make you mine," I reply. I love the look in her eyes when I say that.

(Wednesday) At ten o'clock sharp I upload the first version of my project to the system and let Leslie know. She tells me I've done a good job and that she wants an update on my progress toward the Beta. I ask her if I ever get a day off. "Yes," she laughs. "It is called Christmas."

At 10:15 I get a message from a Mr. Hamid Rashid over in Legal telling me to come over and see him at eleven. I have to go through the corporate directory to find out who he is. The guy is the coordinator for Internal Processes, which translates over as a manager. Why does a man two pay grades above me want to see a peon like me? Since he wants to see me at eleven so I show up five minutes early. 

I am hardly expecting anything pleasant so I'm a bit surprised when I get ushered right into his office. He stands up, smiles at me and shakes my hand. "A moment please," he tells me as he points to a chair for me to sit in. He taps his headpiece and makes a call.

"Mr. Duarte is here," is all he says. He nods once, smiles warmly to me again. "You are to go to Ms. Cook's office. My assistant will show you the way." With that I am dismissed. His assistant, some closed-off guy named Edward, takes me away. I'd ask him who Ms. Cook is but he's treating me like a leper.

Oh. My. God. Ms. Cook is Ms. Joyce Cook, Director of Legal Affairs for the corporation. I'm feeling horribly guilty and I don't know what I've done wrong yet. Edward leaves me with Ms. Cook's assistant, a stern looking willowy woman named Katherine Wilson. "So Katherine, what am I here for?" I grin. She stops working and looks up at me over a finely-wired pair of glasses. Her grey hair still has streaks of auburn in it, and her pale thin lips are drawn in a tight line.

"Do we know one another?" she inquires. "No." "Then you may call me Mrs. Wilson," she corrects me. "So Mrs. Wilson, do you know why I am here?" I start over.

"No. I keep to my own business and don't pry into the affairs of others," she informs me. I nod. "Fair enough." I feel like I've walked into some B-grade movie Gestapo flick where no one knows anything. Mrs. Wilson looks over at me after a minute, no doubt getting instructions over her earpiece. "You may go in now," she instructs. I do as commanded.

Were as Mrs. Hardison's office is Spartan, Ms. Cook's office is luxurious filled with pictures, awards and citations. Her seats are plush and comfortable-looking. Ms. Cook's gaze captures me the moment I step in. The door makes an ominous click when it shuts so I suck it up and walk forward.

"Very punctual Mr. Duarte," she compliments me. "I know your time is very valuable," I respond; after all I don't know what else to say. "I understand you've been doing very significant work for the company. That is a lot of responsibility for someone only with us for one year," she says. "Have a seat."

I take a seat and Ms. Cook comes around the table and leans against it in front of me. Now she's a very attractive woman, her just-past-shoulder length hair is blonde going to grey. She has a pale complexion virtually free of blemishes, nice breasts, a pleasant if not thin waist and full womanly hips. Her skirt is shorter than I would have expected, mid-thigh, but it shows off her luxurious thighs and strong calves. 

She catches me looking her over and I blush which causes a wicked grin to crease her lips. She crosses her legs in a successful bid to look even sexier. "Earth to Mr. Duarte," she smiles. I gulp. "Yes Ms. Cook, what can I do for you?" I say quietly.

"You can answer some questions," she informs me. She shifts around reaching for a folder on her desk allowing me a glimpse of her nice largish ass. Were Gloria is firm and tight, Joyce is plush and curvaceous. While I'm thinking that, she slides a picture over to me. It shows me and Gloria walking down the street.

"Ah ..." I don't know what else to say. "How do you explain this?" she asks politely. "It is Mrs. Hardison and I going down a street in her neighborhood on our way to get some ice cream," I explain. 

She slides a few more photographs my way. They show me going into Gloria's place at night and leaving in the morning. I have a sinking feeling but I don't know where this is going. "What are we to make of these?" she persisted. "I'm not sure where you are going with this," I tell her. She licks her lips.

"I think an inappropriate relationship is going on here," she states with some sympathy. "I ... um, how so?" I respond. "Are you really that dense?" she asks. "No, but I'm not sure what business this is of yours," I reply. "So we are seeing each other. If you think she's been doing me any favors, you are mistaken." The idea of Mrs. Hardison doing anyone any favor is nuts, but that seems a stupid thing to say right now.

"Let me put this in perspective for you, Mr. Duarte," she says as she pulls out two more papers. "These are two sexual harassment complaints filed against you that are still pending." I look them over. They are from two of my female co-workers that I had a few good nights with, but it was totally consensual.

"Why am I not fired yet?" I inquire. "Because there is a way out of this for you; it is possible for these problems to be dealt with in house, say Sensitivity Training, but you need to do something for me," is her friendly reply. I wait for the other shoe to drop.

"You can file a sexual harassment complaint against Gloria Hardison," she offers. "I ... what ... why?" I stammer. "She's the one with the power and authority in your relationship, Mr. Duarte. She's in a position to take advantage of you, or provide you with favors," she explains.

"No," I answer. "Why?" "She's not taking advantage of me and she's certainly not doing me any favors," I respond. "Your loyalty is commendable but ill-founded. We both know she had no loyalty to you and if you don't do something to save yourself she will certainly let go down alone," she says.

"I wouldn't do that to her," I persist. "You can't believe others haven't come before you, do you? Don't let her make a fool of you and throw your career away." She is right; I am totally blown away. I am about to be barbecued. "I need to think about it," I tell her.

"You really care about her, I can see that. Don't wait too long because once word of this gets out you are finished and there is nothing else I can do for you," she warns me. "You may go." Normally I wouldn't mind watching her walk around her desk, but I am desperate to get out of there. I get back to my desk, throw myself into my work but my heart isn't in it.

(Wednesday night) I walk in and I know she's setting stuff on fire in the kitchen. I set down my overnight bag and walk into see what I can do. Gloria has totally lost control of the situation; the steak has caught fire, the vegetables are blackened, and I have no doubt the rice has turned to mush. "Here, let me help you with that," I offer. She looks at me defiantly but the oven fan is starting to lose the battle against the smoke.

I step up and take over without further comment. I am right; dinner is a total loss. "This isn't fair," she complains. "You can do this; why can't I?" "Rich people go out to eat at five star restaurants; poor people learn to cook on hot plates," I explain. "How about that soup and salad place; they deliver?" I add.

Gloria hangs her head in defeat for about half a second. "I am going to cook one meal every weekend," she insists and I hug her for it. She's a bit stiff because she hates to lose out or to fail in a commitment but she sees I'm not holding it against her. She gently pulls away and places our orders then helps me clean up the kitchen while we wait

We are sitting down on the floor, food around us and backs to the sofa with one of her legs lying over mine when I feel the need to open up to her. "I was called to Joyce Cook's office today," I begin. Gloria stops eating but she doesn't look my way.

"What did she want?" Gloria asks softly. "She wanted me to file a sexual harassment complaint against you," I answer. "Oh," followed a few seconds later by, "what else did she say?" "Remember those two women in your department I had affairs with? They have filed complaints against me," I continue.

"What are you going to do?" she whispers. It is almost tragic. "What do you mean?" I ask. "I am going to face the music. What else can I do?" "Mr. Duarte you are throwing your career away. There is nothing I can do to help you and these harassment complaints are going to haunt your forever," she informs me.

"Gloria, if I make that complaint you won't make President. That is your plan and I'm not going to sink it," I tell her. Now she turns and looks at me. "Please think about this," she cautions me. "Okay," I say. I'm not sure how much there is to think about.

(Thursday morning) I show up early and work my ass off until 8:50 when I clean up my station and go over to legal. I walk over to Mrs. Wilson's desk where she gives me an icy stare I return with hostility. "I need to see Ms. Cook," I tell her. "She's busy. You need to make an appointment," she responds.

"I need to see her now," I insist. "She will let you know when she needs to see you," she glares. "That won't be necessary. You can relay my message for me," I say before taking in a deep breath. "Tell her she can stick her deal up her fucking ass!" I shout loud enough for the whole floor to hear. Mrs. Wilson pales and all the work around us stops. "Are you sure you have that or do I need to repeat myself?" I snap. Mrs. Wilson shakes her head still in disbelief before I turn and leave.




Mrs. Hardison Ch. 02



I end up at my desk never surer that I've done the right thing and that I'm going to bask in this sensation for a long time in the unemployment line. I pour myself back into my work because until I'm escorted from the building I am going to have pride in my job. It is almost time for lunch when I get a call from Leslie. I'm to report to Mrs. Hardison's office immediately.

Leslie is carefully neutral when I show up, motioning me to go in as soon as she spots me. I walk in and see Mrs. Hardison behind her desk and Ms. Cook sitting in front of it. Ms. Cook's gaze wanders over me in an appraising manner. "Mr. Duarte, I have been informed that you used profanity in front of Ms. Cook's office this morning," Mrs. Hardison addresses me calmly.

"Yes Mrs. Hardison I did," I confess. "You will never do this again or you can look for employment elsewhere. Now you owe Ms. Cook a heartfelt apology," Mrs. Hardison instructs me. I turn and face Cook. "Ms. Cook I apologize for my failure to control myself this morning. I only hope my message was not lost in translation." 

Ms. Cook flushes but Mrs. Hardison remains impassive. "Well Joyce, I hope this resolution is satisfactory with you. From this point forward if you have a problem with anyone in my department you can be assured that you can come to me with any of your concerns. This is my department after all."

"Very well," says Ms. Cook as she stands up, smiles at Mrs. Hardison then nods to me before leaving. I fidget uncomfortably. "Mr. Duarte certainly you could have found a more appropriate way to deal with this situation. I expected better from you. This situation will not repeat itself," she commands.

"Yes Mrs. Hardison; May I ask a question?" I say carefully. "Ask." "Is this going to be a strike against me?" I inquire. "No. You did nothing to harm this department or our productivity. Go back to work," she finishes. As I head out of the office Leslie catches my eye.

"Telling her she can stick her deal up her fucking ass," she giggles. "That is priceless. I don't even know why you said it but I'm happy to see you are still alive." At three o'clock I am informed that I am going to have two hours of sensitivity training each day for the next two weeks. Both women in the complaints come by and apologize. I tell them not to worry about it; we were all in the same box.

(Friday night) I'm getting French toast, veggie omelets, and smoked ham for dinner when I hear Gloria come storming in. She enters the kitchen puts her hands on her hips and looks furiously at me. "I don't need your help," she declares. "Did it occur to you I was doing it for myself?" I respond calmly. Clearly it hasn't.

"No," she says suspiciously. "When I said I wanted you I also said I wanted to earn you and I can't do that if I tear you down. I'm a better man because of you and I'm not going to give that up, certainly not to someone like Joyce Cook." "You know, you really annoy the crap out of me at times. Before I met you my life was nice and tidy," Gloria growls.

"Yes I know I annoy you but has it been all bad?" I ask. "No!" she snaps. "I'm happy and I love waking up with you next to me and I look forward to having sex once more and eating your meals and touching you when you work. The way you touch me makes me feel alive and the way you look at me makes me feel like a woman once more."

"Well, can I make you happy right now?" I inquire. "Yes," she smiles and I can see the stress starting to bleed away. "Sure, let me serve up your omelet and we should be ready to go," I grin back at her. "Oh, I was hoping to go upstairs, but if you want to eat I can wait," she sighs sensually.

"Have I told you how much better cold omelets are?" I say as I pull her into my arms. "Tell me you want me," she murmurs. "Gloria, I have to have you," I embellish. "That will do Mr. Duarte; that will do."

She leads me upstairs but my hand remains on her hip the entire time. We don't even need words as we disrobe but we are so close that from time to time, between actions, we touch each other. Gloria crawls onto the bed and turns to examine me as I move on top of her. "Condom," she reminds me. I give her a clever smirk.

"Trust me," I suggest. She has that precious look that comes from those rare times she surrenders control. She nods shyly yet deliciously at the same time. I start off with some casual foreplay, kissing her lips, neck breastbone and breasts. I remain between her thighs, slowly working her knees up while toying with my penis and her pussy.

My entry of her is expected and even welcomed by Gloria. "Mmmm ..." is the noise she makes as I slide in. We start working together coaxing, not forcing, my way into her. "Careful," she whispers as her breathing becomes more labored. I acknowledge her words by pushing her knees farther up.

"What are you ..." she starts to ask but then I slide out and push her legs even further back. I let my cock slide farther down until it presses against her anus. "Ohh ..." she grins, "Take it easy." I steadily build pressure until she gasps and I plunge in. Gloria clutches me tight and I can feel her heart flutter. I press a little farther and her grasp on me tightens painfully.

"I never thought you would do this for me," she moans. I have her bent over in two and am slowly pushing my cock up her ass and she's thanking me? I would think by this time that she would known that there isn't anything I wouldn't do for her. Gloria keeps an ironclad grip until I'm fully inside of her and I can feel her straining muscles starting to relax.

"Now," she urges me. I pull out a little bit at a time until I'm only a quarter of the way in then push back. "Harder," she commands. I comply and I'm soon causing her to cry out every time I enter her to my fullest extent. I push her legs up and aside until I can kiss her and she ravenously embraces me back.

I don't want to taunt her; I don't want her to beg, or say thank you, or any of that crap. The passion on her face and the exhilaration in her eyes is more than enough so we fuck in silence save for the slapping of flesh on flesh. Her breathing betrays her at last but its effect overwhelms me first.

"Gloria," I shout as I start cumming inside her. "Don't stop," she begs me, "please don't stop ... so close." I force my cramping muscles to obey as she does her best to thrust against me. "Ugh, ugh, ugh ... Yes!" she cries out; tears well in her eyes as she struggles for air.

We finally have to break up; the strain of her body being folded up forces me out and lets her legs fall to the side. "Oh God damn Mr. Duarte, you have exceeded my expectations," she praises me. "That was wild," I respond. "I can't say I'd mind doing that again."

"Eddie, come here," Gloria beckons me. I crawl up her body until we are next to each other and she can gently clasp my face in her two hands. "I am going to require you to repeat this performance from time to time." "With a body like yours how can I say no?" I smile back at her.

(Saturday) Saturday is a bad day. She spends most of the time upset and I spend my time walking on eggshells. Toward afternoon she comes out of her funk and by the way she acts I can tell she wants to say she's sorry but can't bring herself to do it. Somehow I implant in her the idea that she doesn't need to apologize which is another step toward recovery.

She stuns and scares me that evening. We are watching some TV after we've put work aside on opposite sides of the sofa when she suddenly moves across the sofa and lays her head in my lap. I brush the hair from over her ear and gently tease her lobe. "You make me happy; you really do," she confides in me.

"I've never felt better in all my life," I whisper in return. "I understand that now or at least I'm trying to," she tells me. After a bit she adds, "You have no idea what we are doing together, do you?" "No, do you?" I respond.

"No and that I don't know where we fit in is both irritating and scary to me," she answers. "I will be here right beside you when we figure it out," I promise her. "I find that less that reassuring," she grouses but with no real heat. It also doesn't stop her from sighing contently as she runs her hand along my thigh and knee. She is happy despite herself.

(Thursday) I've put in another long day and I'm getting back for the Metro stop when my poor boy instincts kick in. Someone is following me and they are gaining. I don't consider myself a coward but I'm definitely the prey in this situation so I break out in a run. I'm in sight of my apartment building when he pushes me from behind and I go flying into the wall at the mouth of an alley.

Rolling over I see this large man whipping out a knife. He's towering over me and I don't like his next words one bit. "You are going to pay for screwing with me," he snarls. I have no idea who this bastard is then I see the knife and most of my rational thought flees me. He moves forward with the knife and I block with my satchel where my laptop saves my life.

He responds by kicking the satchel into my chest driving my air out. Screaming in this neighborhood is kind of pointless anyway. "You should have stayed out of my business; now I'm going to carve up your face," he adds. "Dude, I have no idea who you are," I wheeze.

The guy kicks my satchel aside and is moving in for the kill when a shot rings out. "Mother-fucker! What the hell do you think you're doing?" someone shouts. The guy with the knife spins and I realize it is my drug dealer friend and he's pointing the gun I didn't know he had down at my assailant.

"This is none of your business," my attacker threatens but his resolve weakens when the hammer cocks and my buddy points his gun right at the guy. "I'm making it my damn business," my guy sneers. The attacker backs away from me and hold his hand out in the open.

"This isn't over," he threatens me. "Dude, I don't even know who you are," I answer. Only when he turns and hurries away do I recognize the profile: he's the guy who attacked Gloria. He is gone before I can collect my thoughts.

"Bro, you picked the wrong fucking dance partner," the drug dealer tells me as he helps me stand. "Thanks for saving my life," I tell him. He grins. "It is bad for business to have the cops sniffing around after some murder," he reasons, but I still think he's happy to have done me the favor.

I dismiss the desire to call the cops. What am I going to say; I was attacked by the guy who attacked my boss but you wouldn't know about because I didn't report it? I'm not even sure if that makes me guilty of a crime. Instead I call Gloria. "Mrs. Hardison this is Mr. Duarte," I start, "I was attacked tonight and I think it was by the same person who attacked you. He said he was going to cut my face up."

"Are," she answers, "are you going to be into work tomorrow?" "Yes, I wasn't really hurt," I tell her. "You have project deadlines that need to meet and it would be unfortunate if you couldn't meet them," she says calmly.

"Trust me, I'll be there," I promise. There was a long pause. "Eddie I am glad you are okay," she says softly. "I'm fine Gloria. We can talk about this tomorrow night," I respond. "Tomorrow night then; goodnight Eddie," she tells me before hanging up.

(Friday) I get in early which turns out to be good because amongst my morning e-mails is one from Leslie telling me that I have a 10:15 meeting with Mrs. Hardison to update her on the beta system. I'm proud with my work right until Mrs. Hardison finishes looking over my test projections and gives me that look that makes me feel ten inches tall.

"You have two weeks to make sequencing and catalog changes that coordinate within these new formatting guidelines," she instructs me. "Yes Mrs. Hardison," I answer. "You will of course remain on schedule," she states but that was her way of telling me that I've done a good job; The Bitch doesn't actually hand out compliments.

When I leave Leslie flags me down. "Whatever you are doing keep doing it," she smiles warmly. "What do you mean?" I reply innocently. She keeps smiling and I eventually nod before turning and leaving.

At 4:30 in the afternoon I receive a phone call from Katherine Wilson. She informs me that I have a 4:45 meeting with Joyce Cook. I agree because I have no choice but I immediately call Leslie. Unfortunately she tells me that Mrs. Hardison has chosen this day of all days to leave early. I don't know which piece of news disturbs me more.

I arrive early because it was the least stupid option available to me. "Hello Mrs. Wilson," I greet her curtly. She looks at me as if I am a small, small person which has becoming par for the course today. "Mr. Duarte is here," she speaks softly into her headset. "You may go in."

I enter with due reverence; sucking up can't hurt at this time. Joyce is looking like a woman half way between corporate shark and mature seductress. She stands up when I walk in -- this isn't good, I think. "Mr. Duarte - Eddie -- please have a seat," she invites me in.

"Thank you Ms. Cook," I gulp. I take a seat and she comes around the desk so that she is once more in my personal space. "I think we had a miscommunication the first time we met," she says sweetly. I don't know what the hell to make of that.

"I'm certainly hoping my behavior didn't upset you," I hazard to respond. She laughs. "You were definitely succinct," she laughs musically. "Do you mind if we write that off to work stress," I plead. She chuckles then comes off the desk until we are less than two feet apart. I now have a clear view of her burgundy bra peeking out of her beige silk blouse that is unbuttoned way too much.

Joyce reaches out and runs a finely manicure fingernail along my neck to my chin. "As I said, I think we have had a miscommunication," she murmurs. I slide the chair back and stand up; a move that only makes her seductive grin grow wider and her eyes to gain a certain lustful quality.

"Uh, Ms. Cook ..." I stammer. "Call me Joyce," she purrs. "Joyce, I don't understand what's going on. As you said earlier I may be dense, but you are an incredibly attractive, powerful woman. Why are we doing this? I'm certain there are a hundred men in this company who would rip off their own right arm to be with you."

"Was that a compliment?" she replies. "Ms. -- Joyce, yes it was," I tell her. "Do you like mature woman?" she asks. "I hadn't really thought about it," I confess. "Women are women. I don't see what age has to do with it."

"Isn't that precious," she says with a certain new intensity. "I find you to be an interesting man, Eddie." Okay, I'm not super-buff, super-hot, or a corporate hotshot on his way up so this makes no sense to me. "Can I get out of this room without insulting you?" I manage to get out. "We could go out to dinner," she suggests.

"Um, I have plans for tonight," I respond. "You and Gloria?" she questions me. "Well since you already know about us then yes," I confess. "You definitely appear to be devoted to her. I do wish you would understand that she may not be as devoted to you," she instructs me.

"If you knew her like I do, you wouldn't believe that," I promise her. The look she gives me is almost unfathomable. She must have known Mrs. Hardison for almost twenty years while I've only known her for a few months. "I think I can let you go to her now Eddie, but promise me we will do lunch sometime soon," she smiles.

"Yes, sure, whatever you say," I answer hastily. I back a few steps for the door and she gives me a nod to leave. I'm several steps out the door when I realize that the floor is almost deserted. If something had happened I'd have been totally screwed. Of course, I'm not sure I'm not totally screwed anyway.

(Friday Evening) Gloria is home before me but it isn't like I really mind. I have to have some time with her before dinner. She stands up, meets me in the entry way and looks at me with deadly earnest. I'm brought up short; unsure what's gone right or wrong; does she know about my meeting with Joyce? "I'm pregnant," she tells me with utter calm. I can hardly express how happy I am and by the way she reacts my joy must be blossoming through. Gloria takes in a deep breath and smiles.

"I'm too old," she interjects. "Clearly not," I beam as I reach out to hug her. She momentarily tries to keep a distance but something about my excitement infects her and she rushes into my arms. "I'm not going to be a good mother," she worries.

"What do you mean? You will be a great one. After all, one of us has to be the smart parent and it certainly isn't going to be me," I say as I breathe her in deeply as she rests tightly in my arms. "Can't you be serious for once?" she mutters. "Sorry, but I'm too giddy with excitement to be thinking clearly. I'm so happy for us," I tell her.

"There really is an 'us' now," she whispers. "I want you to think about something Gloria. I'm willing to do whatever you want, but while I'm willing to be your partner for as long as you want me, I want to be your husband," I declare. That actually scares her.

"My last marriage didn't work out," she reminds me. "I'm smarter, better looking, and want you a hell of a lot more than that guy," I counter. "I need to think about it," she informs me. I nod; I know I'm a whole lot to handle. We hold onto each other for several minutes and it is a testament of how far we comes when she says,

"I'm glad you are happy with my news. I want to keep the child and I'm glad you will be here with me," she says with subtle emotion. We move as a pair to the sofa and I can't help but hold onto her for a while longer. "So tell me, how long have you known?" I get around to asking her.

"I went to the OBGYN on Tuesday for my semi-annual check-up and she called me this morning to give me ... the news," Gloria tells me.

"You couldn't tell me right then? I would have liked to know," I tease her. She looks at me in a condescending manner. "Mr. Duarte this is hardly workplace conversation. Personal matters are handled on personal time," she explains to me in all seriousness. I curl up my fists in anger at my sides; she can still be a bitch at times.

"Damn you woman! Sometimes I want to put you over my knees and spank you, you are so obstinate," I declare. The look in her eyes isn't one of submission, contempt or fear; it is it's a confrontational act of desire. "You wouldn't dare," she challenges me happily.

"Cross me and you will find out," I respond as I match her gaze. We have other things to discuss but right now I don't care about anything else. She's a long way from being my woman but I'm a lot closer to being her mate.



Mrs. Hardison Ch. 03



*Trust is like beauty; they both should be appreciated*



(Later Friday evening)

"What is wrong?" Gloria asks as she leans against me and I have an arm around her.

"Oh crap!" I blurt out. Now the other, less important news comes racing back to mind. "Ms. Cook made a pass at me this afternoon right before five, and I mean, 'made a pass'. There was no confusing it."

"Why?" Gloria sounds confused. I sigh.

"Is it so hard to believe she finds me irresistible?" I ask her.

"Yes," Gloria replies frankly.

"Fine, she wanted me to go out with her to dinner tonight and exacted a promise from me that we would have lunch sometime next week," I inform my friend. Gloria doesn't respond for a minute.

"Do you want to go out with her?" she inquires.

"Oh God, do I!" I exclaim. "Now that you are going to swell up like a whale I need to be looking for another woman in my life." Gloria turns and bites my arm painfully. "Ow!"

"That's for thinking about looking at another woman," she instructs me. "You tax my patience at times."

"Don't worry. I'll do lunch once or twice, she'll get bored with me, and things will get back to normal," I reassure Gloria.

"I can't say I like that plan," Gloria rumbles, "but I can't see anything I can do to stop her in the personal arena. I have to trust you."

"Maybe the mysterious attacker will bust me up and I can forgo the whole dating two women thing," I joke.

"That isn't funny," Gloria says seriously. "He hurt me and almost hurt you and we no longer know why except they were premeditated attacks."

"I apologize," I say contritely. It was a dumbass thing for me to say. Somehow Gloria senses my hurt. 

"It is okay; I've come to expect a certain number of stupid things from you from time to time."

"Thank you, I think," I sigh.

"So, do you find her attractive?" Gloria inquires.

"Yes I do Gloria," I confess. "She's a bit of a blonde version of you but sensual where you are exciting. I would still much rather be with you; there is no contest."

"I have always admired your honesty Eddie, even if it is painful," Gloria responds.

"I don't want to cause you pain, but I want you to trust me. That kind of leaves me screwed," I groan.

"If I made things easy I wouldn't be me," she sighs playfully. I'm glad to see she's in good spirits despite some of my bad news. I don't know if anything can ruin her mood tonight.

We take the rest of the night in each other's arms and from time to time I can't help myself from rubbing her stomach which causes Gloria to sigh in loving exasperation.

"There is nothing for you to feel Eddie. There won't be anything for months."

"But your boobs will get bigger," I grin.

"Yes Eddie, my boobs will get bigger," Gloria rolls her eyes. She then appears to read my mind, "I suppose you can suckle a tiny bit when the baby gets here." I hug her in response.

"Have I told you how sexy your superior intelligence is?" I ask her.

"Yes, but I never get tired of hearing it," she murmurs.

(Monday)

I'm at my workstation getting an early start on the project when Facilities comes over and puts a new computer system, phone, and chair into my cramped area.

"Huh?" I ask Kelly, the head tech.

"I have a work order to put a new station up in your area," Kelly tells me. We share a shrug and I get back to work.

"Hello," a woman greets me from behind around starting time, "I'm looking for Edward Duarte." I turn to see an attractive woman of Indian descent. She had olive skin, long black hair braided in the front, and a short green dress with black leggings. She also has a brown leather satchel over her shoulder.

"That would be me and call me Eddie," I tell her.

"Hey Eddie, I'm Sadri Gupta. I've been assigned to your project," she smiles. 

"By who?" I laugh.

"I'm supposed to report to you," she informs me. "That is all my supervisor said."

"Sadri, I'm at the bottom of the ladder so I'm not sure were that puts you. How about you set up and I'll make some calls," I grin.

Sure enough, Chu tells me I have someone working 'with' me, which translates as 'does my work but it is still my ass on the line'. Chu asks me if the new guy is hideous so I tell him Sadri is three hundred pounds and never bathes. Sadri giggles. I spend the rest of the morning bringing Sadri up to speed and attending meetings. 

I ask Sadri about lunch. She tells me she's going out with some of her old friends but she'll be back at one. Then she does something strange; she tells me I smell nice like some sort of perfumed body soap or something which is dangerously correct. As I said, we are working in close quarters. I head out with my section's crowd and get back right before she does.

At one thirty we get summoned to see Mrs. Hardison and I beg Sadri to follow my lead, say nothing and genuflect upon entering and leaving The Bitch's presence. Sadri thinks I'm hilarious but she's sure all the rumors she's heard are meant to scare the newbies. Leslie gives me a quizzical look when the two of us approach. She sends us in a few minutes later.

"Mr. Duarte, Ms. Gupta I am reducing your deadline by four days and adding a security subroutine to your beta model. Leslie will give you the security protocols to use," Mrs. Hardison tells us. That means we have to have things ready but ten o'clock Tuesday-week. I might as well pitch a tent in the break area.

"There is no way we can do this," declares Sadri. I grab her arm but it is too late. Mrs. Hardison looks up and bores holes straight through Sadri with her eyes.

"What would constrain you from completing this project on time?" Hardison asks in a wintery tone.

"We won't have the time," Sadri blurts out.

"Take as much overtime as you need," Mrs. Hardison states dispassionately.

"I have a life," Sadri continues. Now I grab her arm and start dragging her out.

"Ms. Gupta, if you cannot competently complete this project in the time allotted, let me know right now and a proper replacement will be acquired," Mrs. Hardison states.

Sadri is about to say something but my grip on her arm has gotten so strong it is painful. She looks at me in anguish and confusion.

"We will get it done Mrs. Hardison," I promise.

"See that you do Mr. Duarte," Mrs. Hardison says as we exit and she resumes her work. Leslie gives me a sympathetic look as we go back to our own area.

"Ow," growls Sadri. "What was that all about?"

"I didn't want you to lose your cool back there," I answer.

"This project is unreasonable. I'm going back to my own section," she announces.

"You can't; you'll be fired," I point out.

"I won't do the work," she shoots back.

"Then we will both get fired," I grin sadly.

"This can't be happening," she mumbles.

"Welcome to my life," I say as I wrap an arm around her shoulder.

"Oh, this reminds me of something; I have to go. I'll be back in two hours," I shrug and once I've deposited her back in our area, I head off so I can do my penance.

(Monday evening)

"So I'm basically going to be working late with a guy who has not one, but two sexual harassment complaints against him," Sadri gobbles as she slurps down some noodles from one of the better Thai take out places.

"Pretty much, yeah," I confess.

"My boyfriend is going to love this," she sighs. "How about we not tell him?"

"That suggestion gets my vote," I agree.

"How are we going to get this project done on time?" she gripes.

"We'll get it done. Mrs. Hardison doesn't give impossible tasks, just incredibly difficult ones," I instruct Sadri.

"When do you normally get home?" she wonders.

"I average about nine or nine-thirty," I inform her which elicits a groan.

"Well, let's get to it," she says and we dive right in.

(Tuesday Noon)

"You received a call from a Katherine Wilson saying you need to meet a car in ten minutes at the East building entrance," Sadri informs me with curiosity. I must look as enthusiastic as I feel. "Bad new?"

"Pretty bad," I admit, "and no way am I getting out of it."

"I thought we had to work all day and all night?" Sadri teases. "How come you get out of all the real assignments?"

"Sadri, trust me this is one meeting you don't want to be going to," I assure her. I almost miss Sadri stealing a glance over my shoulder as she spies on who I'm talking to – Leslie to tell her I'm off to lunch with Ms. Cook.

(Lunch)

I give Sadri a wave before heading out and from what I can tell of her logs later when I get in, she's been a busy little camper and not in a good, productive way. I am alone in the limo as it takes me to Roma NeroSpina. I am a freak product of the lower classes in my nicest set of office attire and it is not nearly enough here. Joyce comes in right after I'm truly and thoroughly embarrassed. If the lesson was to intimidate me it has failed.

"Greetings Eddie," she smiles politely enough. "Did you have a nice weekend?"

"Ms. Cook, it was a normal affair where two normal people did normal things all weekend long," I say with some deep-seeded anger.

Joyce looks at least a bit annoyed.

"What is the source of this unpleasantness?" is her icy request.

"Your choice of restaurant blows, you treat me like a glorified towel boy with time schedules you give me, and you are acting clearly beneath your potential, so either I bore you, or you are slipping; neither of these I find appealing."

"Does anything else bother you today?" She asks plainly.

"Yes, I want an explanation. There are a hundred men (or women) who would commit homicide to be here at your side, you are that desirable. Pick on someone else. I already have a person I love and treasure. Find someone else," I plead.

"I'm trying to be your friend, but you keep turning my assistance aside. We are having lunch, not an interrogation and I asked a simple question that you have chosen to shove in my face. The reason you are here is because I don't want someone to give me everything they have in hopes I will give them something bigger. As we established earlier, you don't want anything from me and that makes you a pretty unique creature."

Now I feel like a shit-heel.

"Fine, I apologize for my anger, but this restaurant is made for people who make ten times a year what I make – minimum. I don't know what made you believe I would be comfortable here," I point out.

"I would have thought Gloria would consider buying you some attire more in line to the styles she needs when she does her required social functions five times a year. I was unaware she had not done that yet," Joyce observes. 

"We have a financially equal relationship," I say with a straight face. Joyce tries to not laugh but fails.

"Seriously; that is not very kind. How you going to handle going out to the places she's expected to be seen," Joyce pursues.

"Our relationship isn't based on money. Mostly it is based on affection and work," I tell her.

"At any time she could take all that away and then what would you have?" Joyce reminds me.

"Memories, a job, a little less structure in my life and a little more fun," I respond. "I've never looked at this relationship for something to make me rich or promote me in the company. I work for Mrs. Hardison after all. At work, the woman has no heart, and that applies to everybody. I have never ever expected Mrs. Hardison to save me from anything. It isn't in her," I explain.

"Why are you with her then?" Joyce leans across the table and asks.

"That is not something I can talk about, sorry. I do know I am her only friend," I shrug.

"I wouldn't treat you like that," Joyce promises.

"Thank you, but it is not all that bad. She has her good qualities," I explain.

"What are they?"

"She's intelligent, honest, and hard working," I grin.

"How do I compare to that?" she murmurs.

"Mrs. Hardison is a well-oiled machine while you are more of an equestrian," I tell Joyce.

"Equestrian; that is a funny term to use," she notes.

"You like a firm hand, you like the finer things in life, and you have experience in hands-on leadership," I respond. She weighs my statement for several seconds before tipping her water in acceptance.

"You would prefer steel over flesh?" she questions.

"It isn't a matter of preference, just that you two are different," I explain. "I can't imagine any man who spends any time with you feels bored, or ignored."

"Thank you, but my charms seem to be wasted on you," she points out.

"Hardly," I choke, "it is only that I am devoted to Mrs. Hardison. Also ..."

"Also?" she asks.

"Also you shouldn't be interested in me and I can't figure out why you are," I finish.

"You sell yourself short Mr. Duarte," Joyce smiles. "You are turning out to be quite interesting to me."

"Even though nothing is going to happen between us?" I tell her.

"Now you are selling me short," she counters seductively. 

"Being a man around a beautiful woman doesn't make me a total idiot," I realize. "What do you have against Gloria?" Joyce looked totally confused.

"What makes you think this has to do with Gloria anymore?" she asks.

"I know it may be hard to believe, but I'm smarter than I look," I sigh.

"Do you know how many men I meet exhibit such loyalty to their superior?" Joyce says.

"Now you are treating me like an idiot," I tell her. Joyce examines me for the longest time.

"Let's eat," she responds finally. The rest of lunch passes quietly and the ride we share back to work is subdued. "Let's do this again Thursday," she tells me. Technically she is asking but in reality I have no choice.

"Take care, Ms. Cook ... Joyce."

"You too, Mr. Duarte," she nodded in a decidedly friendly manner.

Back in my area I join up with Sidra and launch myself into the project. I get us going before heading off for my two hours of trying to be a better male. When I get back I learn that Sidra has scheduled me for a meeting before end of business. It seems she thinks I'm the face of this operation too.

After the rest of the working populace has cleared out Sidra and I delve into the project at our leisure. Before we break up for the night Sidra looks to me and smiles.

"I apologize; I think we can do this by Tuesday," she admits.

"Difficult but not impossible; that is our fearless leader for you," I grin back.

(Thursday)

"You look tired," Joyce notices.

"I've forgotten what my bed looks like," I smile weakly. "Thank you for your concern."

"You are starting to grow on me," Joyce smiles in return.

"I'll have this project finished soon enough then I think I'm going to ask for some time off," I sigh.

"Do you think she'll let you?" Joyce asks.

"Yes. Otherwise I'm going to fall over at my station," I joke.

"We could spend some time together then," Joyce suggests. "I know Gloria won't take any time off." I sigh in exasperation.

"Joyce, this isn't going to happen. Gloria means the world to me. I would never hurt her," I respond.

"Eddie, what if I was to tell you that Gloria isn't so hard-working and dedicated as she would have you believe? There was a time when she did whatever she needed to get ahead," she states.

"I would find that very hard to believe," I confess.

"There was a time when Gloria Hardison did whatever was necessary to get ahead up to and including taking someone that I cared for," Joyce relates to me. I didn't like the way this was going, not at all.

"I didn't know," I say softly.

"I had a lover, a mentor in the company and Gloria stole him away from me," she continues. "I spent three good years of my life with him and one day I found him in Gloria's office. She had accepted a promotion under him and rewarded him with her body."

"Vance," I whisper.

"Oh, she has told you about Conrad Vance? I'm surprised, or maybe I'm not. It must have been one of her proudest accomplishments," Joyce growls. Now I know I'm on the Crazy Train because if she ever saw Vance and Gloria together she had to know what was going on. Vance raped Gloria.

"It wasn't like that," I try to explain.

"Eddie, I was there," Joyce insists. "She isn't afraid to use her body and position to get what she wants. All she is doing is satisfying some need for power over you." Too bad I can't explain things to Joyce; I don't feel I have the right to explain Gloria's rape to anyone, especially an enemy.

"Joyce, what did Mr. Vance do when he abandoned Gloria?" I reason.

"It wasn't like he could come back to me, is it?" she responds.

"Did you want him to?" I ask. Her look tells it all; Crazy Train.

"Will having me betray Gloria make you feel any better?" I try to point out.

"Yes, but I can stop you from making that mistake Vance did too. I couldn't stop him from falling for her, but maybe I can keep you from her ..." she tells me.

"Why now? Why wait all this time before doing anything about this? Certainly in the past seventeen years you could have found another way to resolve things," which is my way of saying 'why me?'

"Quite frankly, until you came along there was no one she valued," she confesses. "When you intervened in her life something changed and she latched onto you. I resolved she couldn't have you but along the way I began to see what she saw in you, but instead of wanting to exploit you, I wanted to help you."

I am digesting that right until I hear the word 'intervene'. Had I been smarter I would know to keep my mouth shut about the attack that only three people should know happened.

"You had her attacked in the parking garage," I whisper. Joyce takes another bite out of her salad. I reach across the table and take hold of Joyce's other hand.

"Why?"

"She has to be stopped," Joyce whispers.

"Joyce, you don't need to do this," I try and reassure her.

"Yes I do," she insists.

"You do realize you sent someone to mess me up too," I explain. Now she looks back up and seems pained.

"Yet again you surprised me Mr. Duarte," her smile warms up.

"What do we do now?" I wonder. She squeezes my hand.

"I could do a lot for you," Joyce tells me intently. I shake my head.

"I wouldn't use you like that Joyce," I respond. "You certainly deserve better." The looks he gives me is one of intense scrutiny.

"Where were you fifteen years ago?" she asks me. Where have I heard that before?

"Second grade," I smile which causes her to chuckle.

"I could just eat you up," she hints. It is not lost on me that this is the woman making me take sensitivity training.

"I'm still seeing Gloria," I remind her.

"For now," she promises. At least we manage to eat the rest of lunch with less sexually suggestive comments. We part with her leaning in for a kiss and I give her one – Crazy Train remember? When I get back to my area Sadri gives me a look that says she knows what I've been doing. God I hope she's wrong.

(Friday evening)

I am pacing all over the place when Gloria walks in. Her look goes from pleasure to concern.

"Sit down," I insist. For a moment Gloria looks like she is going to resist but something about me must tip her off that this isn't some sort of power play.

"Okay," she nods and takes a seat on the sofa.

"Two things; what is going on with you and Joyce Cook right now?" I start off.

"Joyce, Melvin Colza and I are all up for Vice President of Operations. It is all very informal but we are the three contenders. VP of Operations is the stepping stone for President," she answers. "Is this what the struggle between me and Joyce is all about?"

"Yes and no; your competition for the top spot is what has brought this to a head, but her problem with you goes way back," I tell her then take a deep breath. "Joyce was having an affair with Mr. Vance before he dumped her and began having an 'affair' with you. Joyce didn't take it well and I'm thinking she sort of snapped. She even saw you two together."

Gloria sits there with a distant look in her eyes for the longest time. Joyce had witnessed her rape.




Mrs. Hardison Ch. 03



"She saw us together and she didn't do anything?" she says in a small voice.

"Yes."

"She saw us together and she didn't do anything?" she repeats with a lot more anger.

"Yes and I think Joyce is a nutjob. She had you attacked in the garage and then had me attacked for helping you and turning her down," I continue.

"Do we have any proof of this?" Gloria inquires.

"Only my word against hers and I know how that will come out," I shrug.

"I need to think about his for a while," Gloria states as she stands up. She's at the first step when she calls out to me.

"Thank you for having me sit down," she tells me. I hear her footsteps going upstairs. Since I can think of nothing else to do I start cooking dinner.

I've cooked up some noodles, sausages and made a nice Avocado paste when Gloria comes in behind me.

"When did you find out?" she asks.

"Thursday; Gloria I wish you would let me contact you during the week," I plead.

"No. My rules remember? I will keep our work lives and home lives separate. You did the right thing," she instructs me. It certainly doesn't feel like the right thing.

"This isn't over," I say softly.

"Yes it is," Gloria corrects me.

"Gloria, you are mine to have and to hold until you can no longer stand me. I'm not saying you need my help only that I want to help."

I portion out our plates and we sit down to eat. She digs in with gusto. After several mouthfuls she changes the subject.

"What am I cooking you this weekend?" she inquires.

"Pancakes," I respond. She arches an eyebrow my way.

"Isn't that kid food?" she questions.

"Can you cook pancakes?" I counter. She shakes her head.

"Don't worry; we can make a lot of batter. The first few always come out a bit mangled," I tell her.

I'm surprised that she wants to make love tonight, stranger still that she wants me on top with her moving beneath me with this peaceful look in her eyes. I tease and taunt her body and get many a favorable responses. I migrate from kisses to breasts to parting her lips and licking deeply along her slip. I enter her on four separate occasions. She is warm, wet and receptive but I can't seem to get her to orgasm and in the end my body's resistance runs out.

Afterwards she keeps me on top of her, eyes gazing into eyes until she starts to cry. I kiss her forehead and eyelids until her snuffles stop and she starts kissing me on the neck.

"Thank you," she says between kisses. I move my hips between hers hoping for some erotic reciprocation but she grins to me instead. "Not tonight. I have to fix you pancakes in the morning."

"I'll alert the fire department," I reply. He mouth opens and I'm sure she's going to bet angry but instead she starts laughing. It isn't a thunderous noise, but it is music to my ears.

(Saturday)

Gloria is basking in her victory over the skillet. We have several 'animal-shaped' pancakes covered in strawberries and syrup and she keeps glancing my way to make sure I'm enjoying my treat. Neither one of us goes into my choice of an easy thing to create, but then Gloria had her taste of jumping straight into the deep end and that didn't end well.

We push our plates aside and I wait for it.

"Kiss the cook," she commands.

"How about I do the dishes instead," I joke.

"You are doing the dishes anyway; now get over here," she emphasizes with a curled finger. I make a great show of reluctance but I plant a kiss on her lips in the end. I even get to lick the syrup off them.

I've started the dishes and she's poured herself a fresh cup of coffee and is sitting with her back to the counter watching me.

"So what do you think of the new girl?" she says in a passing fashion. I put the skillet in to soak a moment longer and leer at Gloria.

"No you don't," I evade. "I know you. You knew exactly what she looked like before she ever set foot inside my cubicle. Despite her good looks you know she's really good at the production side of this project which is the only, and I mean only, reason she's with me."

"So I have no reason to be jealous? She is young and attractive after all, nubile and I'm sure she likes you," Gloria continues.

"The only thing you have to worry about is if she decides to start up her own company and offers me a spot. Then I might leave the corporation for another job, but I'm in no danger of leaving you," I explain.

"You would leave the corporation to work away from me?" Gloria wonders.

"I'm glad to see you haven't thought of everything," I grin.

"What do you mean?" she asks innocently.

"Like I didn't know you would review anyone I had to work with on this project. You are results oriented Mrs. Hardison and you wouldn't have denied me the best person for the job no matter what," I point out. 

"You knew exactly what kind of woman you were cramming into my work space," I add with a snicker, "but you forgot to figure out that the two of us could work so well together. The two of us could make a decent start up."

"That would make our relationship different," Gloria admits.

"Well, maybe if things don't work out in the corporation you could come work for me," I gloat.

"You would hire me?" Gloria questions.

"Would you charge me with sexual harassment if I made you sit in my lap and kiss me once a day?" I ask.

"No."

"Then you are hired," I laugh.

"Your work ethic is stunning Eddie," she threatens me.

"I'm not worried. I have this girlfriend who keeps me in line," I tease her back.

(Monday)

I arrive at work early only to find Sadri already there.

"You are here bright and early," I joke.

"Rough weekend," she sighs. I sit down in my chair, turn to her and ask,

"Tell me about it," I inquire.

"My boyfriend left me yesterday," she groans.

"I'm sorry," I try to comfort her. "What brought this on?"

"We've been having problems. He wants us to get married and for me to give up my job and have kids. This whole issue with overtime was the last straw. He wanted me to quit."

"I'd never do that to you," I promise her.

"Make me give up my job?" she questions.

"No, have kids. Our kids would look like rejects of the Creature from the Black Lagoon," I smile. Her expression goes from surprise to indignation to pleasure.

"Thanks Eddie; you have a way of putting things in perspective," she confides in me. We get back to work. I end up in another meeting followed by a brief update with Leslie than back to Sadri for a working lunch. She reminds me to go and make the counselor happy and is still at her desk when I get back. We work our asses off until ten that night when I catch her nodding off at her keyboard. I see her to the metro and then make my own way home.

(Tuesday)

Sadri and I are getting to the point that success looks like a real possibility when she catches me looking at the phone.

"Expecting a call from your dominatrix girlfriend?" she teases me.

"What?" I choke. "What makes you think it is my girlfriend?"

"I've seen you scoping me out, so you are not gay. I also know it has to be someone up in the company because you cringe whenever they call. Besides, I checked and it is someone in Legal," she grins devilishly.

"Damn it," I joke. "My secret is out. I'm dating a lawyer. Are you going to turn me in?"

"I'll wait until this project is over. I would hate to have to break a new person at this late date," she teases me.

"I am glad to see you are developing the proper set of priorities Ms. Gupta," I nod appreciatively. I don't get a lunchtime call and I'm thinking about what take-out we are going to get when I get a call from Joyce Cook.

"Hello Mr. Duarte," she says, "I was wondering if you want to go out to dinner tomorrow evening; say the Salerno Café at eight." Wow, it is a place I can actually afford to eat at.

"Sounds great," I respond. "I'll meet you there."

"It's a date," I can almost hear her smile. She hangs up before I can say anything else. Sadri has the good form to not laugh at me.

(Wednesday)

I am not sure what kind of relationship I am dealing with here so I waste more of the day than I can afford trying to figure a way out of things. Sadri inadvertently saves me. It seems I have made a simple error in my Alpha model and we have to go back and fix it. It doesn't take long but it is a reminder how a little problem at the start can really screw things up later. I have a plan.

That evening I'm meet Joyce a little late and do my best to appear distracted. I eat quickly and make my excuses to go which puts her a little off her game. She agrees to go back with me which gives me a hint that I might actually be getting somewhere. When we get in the elevator we take separate sides. 

Joyce does a good job of looking sexy, but I take a deep breath and keep to my plan. I walk over to her the moment the door shuts and she has this seductive smile playing across her lips. She feels she knows what is coming. I think she's wrong. I grab her shoulders and spin her around facing the corner.

"What?" he wonders as she struggles to turn back around.

"Shut up," I tell her. That causes a moment's hesitation which I use to slide my hands down to her hips.

"What did you just say?" she snaps. I step back and go to my corner. Joyce is furious.

"Why would I want you when I could have Gloria?" I taunt her. Anger and hate boil to the surface and I'm really beginning to think I've pushed too hard. If she physically attacks me here I'm a dead man. Thankfully the door opens before she can direct that anger.

"Don't call me anymore Joyce, you bore me," I tell her as I walk away.

I'm back at my workstation when Joyce comes storming around the corner and bears down on me. I stand aside and let her see Sadri working at her station and now looking up at us both.

"Mr. Duarte," Joyce growls.

"Ms. Cook I have project with a crucial due date. If you have any business for me please call me within the set business hours," I respond in a bored voice. Joyce trembles with rage before storming off.

"Brother, she's going to staple your balls to a wall," Sadri whispers. I slump down in my chair, totally exhausted by my display of bravado.

"Hopefully after she cuts them off me," I sigh. "I'd hate to have to hang around waiting for something to come up."

(Thursday)

It is five fifteen in the afternoon and everyone who has any sense is gone from the work area. Being an idiot I'm standing in Joyce Cook's office wondering if I'll make it home before midnight. Joyce pretends to be doing some pressing business while she makes me wait. Finally I have had enough; I turn and leave.

"Where do you think you are going?" she snaps.

"I have a job to do. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you call Mrs. Hardison as you agreed to earlier," I state.

"I could have you fired for the way you treated me last night," she glares.

"You mean when you invited me out on a date then brought me back to work," I point out.

"Who do you think you are?" she seethes.

"The man who would rather have a weekend with Gloria than a whole week with you," I sneer. She came from around her desk clearly ready to smack the shit out of me. There is that terrible moment between what is horribly wrong and when I should be running away.

"Take off your jacket," I command Joyce.

"Clear out your desk," Joyce shoots back.

"Do you know what it is like to bend Gloria over, grind myself against her ass while I drag my fingers over her back and bit her neck?" I taunt her. Gloria has never told me what that bastard did to her but I've developed a picture from the things she avoids.

"Good night Joyce. Stop bothering me. I don't want you anymore," I stab at her. I'm a twenty-two year old business major playing crisis counselor; what could go wrong? I'm almost at the door.

"I ..."

"Take off your jacket," I repeat. Joyce looks away but does as instructed. I walk back over to her and slowly turn her around. I can only imagine what a manipulative, abusive jerk Vance was and I'm probably better off never knowing. "Unbutton your shirt." She starts to obey so I let my hands roam over her shoulders and neck, pulling her collar aside enough for me to suck lightly on her neck.

"Mmmm ..." is the noise she makes as I pay attention to her neck. My arousing her is not the point of this, her arousing herself is.

"Now take it off," I command next. She slowly complies, letting it fall to the floor. I step forward until it is my chest against her back. She is probably expecting for me to unclasp her bra but I'm not going there.

I run my hands down her side, along her stomach and back up to her breasts. I cup each breast in my hands and roll them together.

"Exquisite," I whisper in her ear and she moans in response. I don't dawdle. I let my hands slip down which invokes a whimper as her breasts are abandoned.

I reach the hem of her skirt and pull it up vigorously. I hike it over her ass then rub both cheeks.

"Bend over the desk," I tell her. Joyce doesn't rush to obey, but she does do as ordered. I kiss each cheek then playfully slap each one before running a hand along her panty and stocking covered pussy. She moans again. I give her pussy a stinging slap and she jumps.

"I like that," I lie; I have no desire to hurt her. "I'll see you on Tuesday," I inform Joyce. She turns around and looks at me highly confused. I'm sure she can't quit grasp what has happened. There is no dealing with what is happening with Gloria and Joyce until I find a way to deal with that bastard Vance. I figured I am helping Gloria so maybe I can help Joyce too – without cheating on Gloria in the process.

(Friday)

Gloria stares at me once I finish outlaying my plan then she stares some more.

"Eddie, this is perhaps the dumbest thing I've ever heard in my entire life," she states calmly. "You are playing mind games with a woman who hired a man to rape me and stab you."

Well when she puts it like that I do sound sort of insane.

"What do you suggest I do?" I ask.

"I'm not sure. I think you are going to be forced to follow through in your current course of actions until something develops that allows you to break things off with Joyce," she informs me.

"Are you worried about me and Joyce?" I inquire.

"Eddie, do you promise you will remain true to me?" Gloria 

"Absolutely," I answer.

"Then I believe you," she smiles as she runs a finger along he curve of my face.

(Saturday)

I'm upstairs with Gloria sitting on her bed watching TV while we eating ice cream. I catch her licking the back of the spoon and looking up at me. She looks great in the workout shirt and shorts she's in. I'm a t-shirt and shorts as well but I don't find me to be nearly as exciting.

"Yes?" I inquire.

"I thought we would be doing something more sexual when you finally captured me," she wonders. This is the first time I've caught her on our race up the stairs after all.

"I have all night with you," I tease her.

"What? How did that come about," she questions.

"As long as I keep you in this bedroom Mrs. Hardison, you are mine," I gloat. She takes me in with her gaze and nods.

"I'll be more careful how I phrase things in the future," she clarifies. "So what now?"

"I'm sitting back in bed, eating ice cream with my girl, that's what's up," I sigh. I can tell she's trying to find a way to goad me or criticize me but she controls herself. Instead she nestles into my chest and sighs.

"You win," she whispers to me a half hour later. I look down at her and she looks up at me. "I'm comfortable with you Eddie. I like this, holding you and relaxing in your arms," she concedes. I'm about to say something but Gloria puts her finger to my lips. "Don't ruin the moment," she warns me so I wise keep my quip to myself.

It was later in the night and I had fallen asleep somewhere along the way. I feel her hand running beneath my shirt.

"I'm awake," I yawn.

"That's good," she purrs, "because I'm in need of some more comfort." I move to hug her but she stops me.

"No, I want that other kind of comfort," she tells me. I start stripping out of my clothes because convincing a twenty-two year old male to have sex really isn't all that difficult. She matches me article of clothing by article and she moves on top.

"Hey, wait I'm still in charge," I insist.

"Oh shut up Eddie," she murmurs. "I am going to be on top." I move under her and she settles in on my hips. I'm not in her yet; we are just moving together. I reach up to her hips and rock her in a gentle rhythm. 

"Aaahhh ... Eddie you feel good," she murmurs. She puts her hands on my hands and helps us get in synch.

"Damn, I love this," I respond to the prelude to sex. Gloria moves my hands up her sides to her breasts, helping me knead them and play with her hardening nipples. All I have to do is follow her direction. She takes her time before rising up and inserting my cock inside of her.

"Pleasure me Eddie, please," which is highly romantic for us in so many ways. 

I pull her nipples down until she's in range for me to start kissing her. She tilts her hips up so that I'm three-quarters of the way out.

"Push up into me," she commands softly. I push up and she pushes down which grinds our pelvises into one another at a flatter angle. I'm still rubbing her breasts and rolling the nipples as we dance together.

"Who is fucking who?" she taunts somewhat breathlessly.

"No," I pant back.

"Who is making love to who?" she changes tact.

"I think we are making love together," I suggest. She kisses me deeply in response. 

(Tuesday)

Sadri's slight form feels good in my arms and the kiss is as totally unexpected as it is delicious. We've gotten the project in on time and we feel ecstatic. At ten we are called to Mrs. Hardison's office.

"She's going to have to give us our props," Sadri exults.

"Don't hold your breath," I sigh. "We are most likely going to get our next assignment." When we get to Leslie's office Sadri is still smiling and I have to admit I'm a bit infected with her optimism. 

"You will be handling the Beta implementation and any corrections necessary," Mrs. Hardison says the moment we walk in.

"You are welcome," Sadri beams at her proudly. Mrs. Hardison looks up and exams Sadri who flinches first.

"What would I be thanking you for? This is not the third grade where you need your hand held. This is the marketplace. You were barely adequate to the task. I'm sure your parents are proud."

Sadri is about to blow a gasket so I throw myself under the bus first.

"Mrs. Hardison we busted our asses on this project. You upped our parameters and cut down our launch time and that took a lot of work. Would it kill you to say we did a good job?" I shoot off at the mouth. Mrs. Hardison's icy glare transfers to me but this time I hold my ground. We did good work damn it.

"Your current assignment is your reward Mr. Duarte. For the next month you will be able to operate under normal corporate hours and get along with your normal lives. It was too much to think either of you might actually see that. Mr. Duarte, you should have known better. This is your second strike," Mrs. Hardison tells me then goes back to her work. 

Sadri and I back out and head to our area.

"Second strike?" Sadri asks.

"Three strikes and you are out," I tell her. "I fucked up once a few months ago and now I've fucked up again."

"But you did it for me," Sadri wails. "I was going to slap the conceited bitch."

"I'm not sure how that would help either one of us," I point out.

"I want to do something to her," Sadri grumbles.

"Live long and prosper," is my sage advice.

When I get back from Sensitivity Training Sadri seems to have calmed down.

"Do you want to go out for drinks after work?" she asks. I nod; it is a good idea and I could use a bit of unwinding.

(Tuesday evening)




Mrs. Hardison Ch. 03



"I think I hate working for the Bitch," Sadri says loudly over the sound of the other twenty-something's at the bar.

"She grows on you," I respond. "We get things done."

"You've already racked up two strikes against you in less than a year," she counters. "You work your ass off for her."

"That's a story for another time," I grin.

"Thanks for covering me while I've been learning things around here," she smiles then kisses me on the cheek. I stroke her cheek in return.

"Hang in there. It is a ball working with you, but speaking of work, I've got one more thing to do tonight before I can take it easy," I chuckle.

"Your girlfriend; well, don't forget your safe word," she laughs. Clearly Sadri thinks I'm having a far more vigorous sex life than I'm actually having.

"Always keep a spare handcuff key underneath the pillow," I advise her in mock-seriousness. "Got to go now."

"Take care; maybe we can go out for some serious partying on Friday?"

"I'll see what I can do," I promise. Explain this to Gloria isn't going to be difficult; it is going to be impossible.

It is past eight when Gloria gets home. I'm sitting on the sofa barely paying attention to the news while doing some work. She comes into the living room and looks me over.

"I didn't expect to see you tonight," she says carefully.

"I made pasta and salad," I respond. She goes in and fixes herself a plate. I follow her in and get some tea while she digs in.

"Tastes good," she mumbles. I nod and smile. As she finishes she broaches the subject, "After this morning I wasn't sure how well you would take it."

"Work is work and that won't affect us; that is the deal," I tell her happily.

"In that case you are back to being highly annoying," she states.

"Does that mean you aren't going to eat desert," I taunt her.

"Will you get over me firing you?" she says coolly.

"Yeah; will you get over me being a jerk some times?" I counter.

"You are getting the better part of that bargain," she notes patiently.

"Sometimes I just too smart for you," I gloat. She tends to weigh her options; I've left her with so many, but she slides her hand across the table and squeezes my hand instead. I think she's coming around to my way of thinking. Victory isn't so much beating the other guy as in getting what you want. We want to make each other happy. Tonight that means she doesn't beat me up.

(Wednesday)

"How did Bronson go?" Sidra asks.

"Someone doesn't know the difference between a colon and semi-colon," I mutter. I've wasted thirty minutes on a trivial error. I look over Sadri's cue. We aren't buried so our beta must be doing its job.

"You have a call from Katherine Wilson over in Legal," she slyly grins. I try not to let the concern wash over my face. I take the message and put it aside. After spending two hours leaning what I bad sexist pig I've been I give my old friend Kate a call. She tells me I have a five o'clock meeting with Ms. Cook.

The office floor is nearly empty except for Mrs. Wilson who waves me in silently. Yeah, I don't want to know what was going through her brain. I close the door behind me and start toward her desk. Joyce looks up at me and looks very displeased.

"What happened last time will not be repeated Mr. Duarte," she states firmly.

I take in a few of the options that present themselves. I need to find a way to move Joyce past her hate of Gloria and Vance is the key.

"Come here," I order her. Her distain turns to anger.

"Get out," she countermands me.

I shrug and leave. I can hear her chair slam back and her coming around the table. I count her steps before turning and facing her. She hesitates but keeps coming. When we collide she's too torn to formulate an effective defense. I grab her cheeks and kiss her.

"Take off your jacket," I tell her. She tries to slap me but I block her.

"Take off your jacket," I growl, "or I'll take it off you." She struggles once more for a response so I kiss her again. "Is this how you want us to end?" She knows I'm not him but still ... Joyce takes off her jacket and tosses it to the couch.

"You are fantastic," I tell her as I look over her body. Joyce's breathe speeds up.

I take her hands and slowly raise them over them over her head until I lock her fingers together. I kiss her again then let my fingers trace their way back down to the top of her head, ears and cheeks. Joyce closes her eyes as I gently grace her lips with kisses once more. 

"Do you want to be mine?" I whisper to her.

"I want to be with you," she answers.

"Not good enough Joyce. Are you going to be mine to fuck with whenever I want to do whatever I want?" I respond sternly. Joyce's eyes open and she looks at me.

"I want to be with you Eddie," she tells me, "but I'm not a whore." I step back.

"Then you are not worth me having. We both know what I have waiting at home and if you aren't even going to try, why am I wasting my time here," I prod her.

"Eddie," she pleads.

"Take off your shirt and bend over the damn desk!" I shout. 

Joyce jumps. I glare at her until she staggers back to her desk, strips off her shirt and bends over. I feel like such a monster making her go back through this again. I pull up her skirt then rub my hands from her calves to her neck.

"God damn you are hot as hell," I praise her and she gives a tiny sigh.

I rake my hands over her thighs, hips and buttocks until they leave welts. I take her panties up and wedge them into her ass until she moans. I finish up by rubbing along her pussy and she's already soaking through the sheer fabric.

"Do you want me to fuck you like you were my own?" I ask softly.

"Yes," she pants. I vigorously rub the thin fabric while I push her down on the table so that her bra-covered boobs are mashed out.

"Why?" I inquire.

"I have to have you back," she sighs. "Damn you Eddie, you just won't get out of my mind."

That is not what I am expecting or wanting to hear.

"What will you do if you can't have me?" I question carefully.

"Give me a chance Eddie, you'll see," she insists. She's not desperate, just determined. "Give me until tomorrow; give me that long." Like an idiot I can't keep my mouth shut.

"This is your last chance," I lie once more, "but if you can't convince me then we are done, promise me that."

"It that is how it has to be," she whispers. I turn and leave her laid out over her desk and I dare not look back less she sees the conflict in my eyes.

(Thursday)

We met that evening at the restaurant at the Regis Hotel, not a good sign. Strangely and most hopefully we talk about Vance and the impact he had on her career. I can see that he has a hold on her, both intellectually and sexually but I can't get her to understand the darker side of that relationship.

I somehow cling to his idea that I can get her to understand that things aren't like what she has remembered, which really begin pulling her to edge. Sniffling she asks me to take her to a room then be on my way. She accepts that we aren't going to work out. Once inside the room, her whole demeanor changes. She challenges me to show her how much I am over her; she turned the tables on me, daring me to push her away. Her clothes started coming off.

"I'll do whatever you want," she purrs as she pushes her whole body against me. Her bra springs free and she presses her two magnificent orbs into my hands. "Whatever you want, Eddie; however you want to use me," she emphasizes. She turns and drives her ass against me and when I move to separate us she channeled the energy so that I ended up throwing her face first onto the bed.

I'm looking down on this fine piece of ass and I know I can be fucking her from behind in less than ten seconds. Hell, I could be pushing it up her ass if I want to. She's begging for it and damn she looks fine but all I find myself thinking about is Gloria and my child. I've fucked up already but I have the power to not make it worse.

"Joyce," I say as I step back, "I can't do this." I also feel myself stepping back into sanity. "I can't be him for you and I don't think anyone should be." I am panting and unsteady on my feet. Joyce looks back over her shoulder confused and unfocused. I lightly brush her hip and start moving around the bed. I need to get out of here.

"You are going back to her," Joyce whispers. I nod. I'm going back to Gloria. "I won't let that happen," she adds.

"Joyce, I can't be Vance for you. It isn't in me. I thought I could make a difference but I can't go as far as you need me to go," I explain.

"I am not going to let her to this to me again – to us again," she mumbles. She is moving around on the bed but all I want to do is button up my shirt and get out. I hear her purse tip over and I'm wondering if she's going to call security on me until I hear the hammer click back on the gun.

"Joyce ..." I start to say.

"No!" she screams so frantically that I have to turn around. She's got a gun out and is pointing it at me, the contents of her bag strewn out on the bed.

"Joyce ..." I repeat. I want to say 'you don't want to do this' when the gun goes off. I know that I've been shot but I don't know where; the pain is too much.

I slide down the wall because my legs don't feel like responding. I look over to Joyce and she's shocked. All kinds of things have to be going through her head; shooting me again has to be one of them. She comes across the bed, gun in hand but pointed down. She starts sobbing.

"Oh God!" she blubbers.

"Joyce, put the gun down and call 9-1-1," I rasp. She stares at me. She's a smart girl but she is struggling to keep up with events. "Joyce, if you put the gun down and call 9-1-1 we can claim the gun accidently went off." She clearly is unsure whether or not she should believe me. "Joyce, in this hotel a dozen calls must have already gone in to hotel security if not the police," I explain. "If you call now you get ahead of the situation."

That seems to get through to her. She scrambles over the bed and grabs her phone before running back over to me. I'm wondering if Joyce Cook's sky blue silk covered ass is going to be one of my last memories. She kneels down in front of me and she dials the phone. Now I have a great view of her tits. They are not as good as Gloria's but they are nice.

"Hello," Joyce's voice wobbles. "I've had an accident in room 346 at the Regis. My companion has been shot."

I am not sure about what is being said to her or what she says next. My head begins bobbing and my feet begin feeling cold – not a good sign. My mental clarity is slipping.

"Hang in Eddie. Don't die," Joyce pleads. "Promise me you won't leave me." The words won't come but I think I nod my head. 

I think I hear someone knocking at the door and Joyce leaves me. It is too hard to focus. Someone else is shaking me, telling me to stay awake but all I need to do is rest my eyes for a moment.



Mrs. Hardison Ch. 04



*Liking someone is easy, loving them is hard, yet it is love we seek*

*

(Friday)

I wake up feeling woozy and distant. My eyes come into focus and I realize someone is standing next to me and it is not who I would expect.

"Sadri," I rasp. "What are you doing here?"

"I'm on my way home from work you big dummy," she teases me. "Next time try ducking."

"How long have I been out?" I ask. I feel like I must have been out for weeks I'm so sore. I've been shot after all.

"Eddie, it is Friday evening. You've been out less than twenty-four hours," she smiles. I must look totally gob smacked because she laughs at me.

"It felt like so much longer," I groan. "Does anyone know what happened to me?"

"Nothing really," she answers, "but some detectives came by and asked a few questions."

"What do you know?" I inquire weakly.

"Well, someone shot you in the shoulder in a room at the Regis and a woman was involved," Sadri tells me. "Was it your dominatrix girlfriend?"

"Long story, but she wasn't my girlfriend," I respond.

"Since you aren't going to tell me anything I can use for office gossip I'm going to go," Sadri smiles. I give her a nod and she leaves with a look over her shoulder before the door shuts.

A little while later, I'm eating my first meal when a couple walks into the room and gives me the distinct impression I've done something wrong. I've lived a dubious enough existence to know the police when I see them.

"Mr. Duarte, we have a few questions for you, if you feel up to it," the younger man questions me. 

He's maybe thirty but looks a little worn around the edges; maybe a drinking problem. His older compatriot seems bored with the whole affair.

"I wonder if you can relate to us what happened Thursday night?" he asks.

"It is not very clear. I was talking to Ms. Cook and the gun accidently went off," I lie. I'm not even sure why. I should send her to prison for a long, long time.

The guy stares at me.

"How do you know the gun accidently went off if your recollections aren't clear?" he points out.

"Nothing in our conversation leading up to that would make me believe that she meant to hurt me," I rehearse the lines I vaguely remember piecing together before I passed out.

"Why did she have her gun out?" he persists.

"I think she was rummaging in her purse," I evade. I know that is terribly lame, but as I said it was the plan I came up with while fending off shock.

"What is Ms. Cook to you?" he changes tact.

"We have engaged in a personal but non-sexual relationship," I answer.

"Is that why she was dressed the way she was when we first interviewed her?" He questions.

"Do you seriously ask to ask a grown man why he was in a room with a grown woman in lingerie?" I sigh. "We weren't sexual, but we were appreciative."

"Listen you," the second man finally speaks, "if you continue to hinder prosecution on this case we'll drag you in right now. Now answer the damn questions."

"I stand by my statements. The gun went off by accident; end of story," I state.

"Next time she'll put you in a pine box," the second man sneers. He's probably right.

The first detective hands me his card; Detective Linus Dirac. The second cop doesn't even bother. I lie back and try to get some more sleep but the doctors stop by and examine me. On the plus side all my vitals are good and I'm scheduled to be released Sunday. Crap, how often do people get shot around her that they have to toss you out on the street after only three days?

(Saturday)

I'm eating like a champ and I've even have a nice female intern come by and give me some attention; apparently getting shot is manly. It seems my supervisor; Mr. Chu went by my place (brave man) and got me a new set of clothes. My old shirt and undershirt are a total loss, my pants and shoes have blood on them, but my tie made it through unscathed. 

There is a knock on the door and there stands Joyce Cook. I can't help myself.

"Please tell me you don't have a gun," I gulp. That earns me a pained smile.

"No, they don't' allow guns in hospitals," she replies.

"Come in, take a seat, and tell me what the hell happened after I passed out," I request.

"The man next door was a doctor and took care of you until the EMTs arrived. I spent the night with the police. I'm sorry about what happened. I'm surprised you aren't sending me away," Joyce whispers. "You could have ruined my career ... my entire life."

"Think nothing of it. You didn't deserve to go out that way," I wince at my own joke. "Of course had you killed me I'd have been really cross." Joyce gives a dry chuckle. 

"What am I going to do with you?" she says as she strokes my hand.

"I think we have established we aren't doing anything with one another," I grin, "or do I have to be shot again?"

"That's not funny Eddie. I could have killed you," she cautions.

"Fine Joyce; no more joking; I was trying to help you and Gloria not be at one another's throats and I pressed you too hard and I'm sorry. I only want Gloria and I hope you can understand that," I reason with her. I have to believe I can fix this thing; I have my reasons.

"Eddie, I will never know how you care so deeply for her yet not see her for who she really is," Joyce assures me.

"No Joyce ..." I stop her.

She is smart enough to know this isn't an argument she is going to win today. Instead she squeezes my hand and turns and leaves. Part of me hopes that she's shot me and this is the end of it. Part of me fears that she thinks I've saved her life and she'd got to return the favor.

(Sunday)

I'm with the male nurse helping me dress and my bag ready to go when I notice someone standing at the doorway drinking me in. It is Gloria and she looks decidedly unhappy. The nurse leaves and it is only she and I.

"I need to get home," I tell her gingerly.

"I am your ride home," she tells me.

"Oh ... okay. I promise I'll run up the stairs, lock the door and I'll be back to work on Tuesday; Wednesday at the latest."

"You are moving in with me," she declares with cold iron efficiency.

"I think we should talk about this," I begin to say.

"No, we shouldn't," she fixes me with her stare. "I've bought you some clothes and fixed up the guest room."

"No Gloria, I think we need to talk about this," I metaphorically stand up to her. Gloria walks physically into my space, standing up to me physically and I can tell she's trembling with pent up emotional energy.

"Damn you Eddie, you could have died!" she screams at me. Tears are starting to stream down her face. "I only started caring about you and you did this stupid stunt. How dare you?"

"You are the most beautiful woman in my life," I respond to her softly as I try to put my good hand on her shoulder.

"Don't you dare," she snaps. "You don't get to be nice to me. I am so angry with you right now I could scream," she screams. The fact that she is screaming is something I don't need to share with her.

"Do you know how I felt when Chu gave me the news? Do you know how empty I felt as I had to wait for the hospital to get back to me on how you were doing? Do you know how much restraint it took to not go down and strangle Joyce Cook? Do you?" she continues to snarl.

"No I don't," I whisper to her. She bats my hand away as I try to run it through her hair.

"You don't get to touch me," she responds angrily. "If you weren't already hurt I'd kill you. I can't begin to tell you how furious I am with you." There is really only one truth for this.

"I love you Gloria." Her face pales then flushes with rage once more.

"How dare you?" she sobs. She drives her head into my breastbone. "Don't you dare tell me you love me."

"I apologize but I won't take it back," I respond.

"What were we going to do without you?" she moans. By that I figure she means herself and our unborn child.

"You were right; I was wrong; I beg your forgiveness Gloria. I'm sorry," I express to her.

"Shut up!" She grumbles. "I've been building up to this for two days and you aren't going to get out of it this easily." I remain quiet for some time. "Why aren't you saying anything?" she says.

"I don't want to lose you, so I'm keeping my mouth shut," I reply.

"Rrrrr ... were your last thoughts of me?" she states with intensity.

"No," I reply honestly, "my last thoughts were that this couldn't be happening to me." She sobs, then sniffles, then laughs softly into my chest.

"You are such an idiot," she tells me.

"But ..." I prod.

"But I love you too," she whispers. "Now would you please come home with me?"

"I'd be happy to," I answer. This time she lets me hug her with my good arm. My left shoulder still feels like crap, but I'll manage.

(Sunday evening)

When she leads me into her place it feels different then I realize what it is; she's been burning food. I'm not sure what to say. I doubt asking her 'what is to eat' will earn me much good will. She can't cook so I have to imagine what anguish drove her to try again and again to win some sort of victory in the kitchen.

"What can I do for you?" I find myself asking.

"Go up and get situated and I'll order us some dinner," she says dejectedly. I've never want to see her this upset again.

"I'll cook dinner for us," I tell her.

"Sit down," she orders me.

"Gloria no; I need to do something," I say as I stand up and make my way to the kitchen. Gloria gets in my way. When I attempt to push pass her she holds me back violently which cause me to grimace.

"Are you going to push me around all night or are you going to let me do something for us," I relay with some heat. Reluctantly she nods and lets me go around her. I take my time because I'm down to one arm but I feel her eyes upon me as I prepare our meal. As we sit down to eat I start our ritual.

"Don't even say 'kiss the cook'," she states firmly. "Say it and I'll hurt you."

"Kiss the cook," I grin and she hits me in my good shoulder. It still hurts but not as much as the furious look in her eyes. God, I've hurt her and I'm not sure how to make it better because sex isn't going to do it any more than begging forgiveness.

"I'll try harder Gloria," I promise her. She doesn't stop glaring at me.

"You had better," she insists violently. Gloria looks at me, still furious but with a surprising softness sneaking in against her will.

"I don't want you to be angry with me," I tell her.

"Shut up," she snaps. A moment later she adds, "You told me you would stay with me under my terms Eddie. You lied."

"How is that? I didn't plan to get shot and all I wanted to do is keep you safe from Joyce. I fucked up; I admit it. I didn't mean for any of this to happen," I counter with some anger of my own. She looks pissed then sighs.

"I know. I knew you were doing the wrong thing and I should have stopped you," she admits while insinuating that I'm mentally challenged.

"Is the baby okay?" I sort of toss out there. The fire returns to her eyes. Now I've done it.

"Don't you dare go there," she seethes. "You can't hide behind me being a fragile mother. I've fought for everything I've gotten and being pregnant doesn't change that. You keep this up and I'll ... I'll ..."

"Slap me so hard you'll make my mother cry?" I offer. Gloria trembles then slaps me so hard I swear I hear my mother in the Midwest saying 'What the fuck?' I also go rocking into the wall and cry out in pain. Gloria shows all the feminine instincts of a Mother Grizzly. She slaps me four more times before her palm starts to hurt.

We are both standing their panting when she grabs me by my shirt and kisses me savagely for over a minute.

"Eat," she orders. I don't have much of a choice. I'm hungry and don't want to see her any more pissed.

When dinner finishes I clean up and join Gloria by the TV. She finishes up early, clearly unwilling to engage me in conversation. In case I was confused she cuts off the lights as she goes up so I tag along.

"You are sleeping in the guest room," she declares.

I take my pills and lie down for a few hours but I can't sleep. I think I know what I'm missing so I go over to Gloria's room and quietly climb into bed with her but on the far side. I know she will be pissed but I hope she will know how much I miss her. I wake up close to dawn with Gloria looking down at me.

"You ... I've missed you too," she says softly.

"I disobeyed you; do you forgive me?" I stifle a yawn.

"I should be angry with you forever -- wounded in a room with a scantily clad Joyce Cook -- but I can't. I'm furious with myself as well as you. I want you like I haven't wanted anything in years," she confesses.

"Do you forgive me?" I ask hopefully.

"Hardly," she snorts. "Let's see where I am on Friday." I groan in frustration.

"How about a little morning sex?" I suggest.

"Don't press your luck," she glares. "You are on thin ice as it is for slipping in here." With that she left me for a day on my own.

(Tuesday)

"Damn you are an idiot!" Sadri exclaims as she runs up and hugs me. "What are you doing here?"

"Don't I still have a job? Isn't this my tiny cell in Hell?" I taunt her back.

"Home life driving you nuts?" she counters playfully

"And how; have you missed me?" I ask.

"Of course; every part of the new program that I worked on is perfect but all of your work is crap that I've had to fix," she grins.

"You are so full of shit," I complain as she takes her work at her station.

Chu and several of my co-workers come by and congratulate me for being dumb enough to catch a bullet and a few go fishing as to who I was with and what I said to get shot. No one has any doubt that me getting shot is my fault. I struggle on for two hours until Leslie gives me a call. The Bitch needs to see me.

"How's the shoulder slugger?" Leslie greets me.

"I was trying to catch it in my teeth but it turns out I have lousy aim," I say in mock seriousness that earns me a guffaw from Leslie. She sends me into see Mrs. Hardison where I wait for her to acknowledge me.

"Mr. Duarte, you have allowed personal matters to impact your work efficiency," she notes coldly.

"I've already submitted the paperwork to qualify my missed hours as sick leave," I explain.

"Sick leave is for unexpected illnesses," Mrs. Hardison says as she looks sharply at me. How is getting shot not sick leave?

"Mrs. Hardison, would you rather have me put in for unpaid leave?" I manage to say.

"Yes. I thought that was abundantly clear Mr. Duarte," she states.

"Consider it done Mrs. Hardison," I answer.

"Dismissed," she tells me as she gets back to work. It is all about productivity numbers. You pay sick workers for no work; being unpaid speaks for itself.

When I get back I must look terribly pissed because Sadri keeps her mouth shut for the rest of the morning. She takes me out to lunch were she broaches the question.

"She what?" Sadri growls when I let her in on my conversation with the Bitch. "Eddie, you have debts; even with the overtime we've been pulling we need to meet our bills."

By the end of business Sadri and I've caught up with most of the backlog and we can look forward to a normal night at home. Once more I get a call from Leslie with a half hour to go. I drag my sore ass back to the Head office and Leslie tosses me into the Lioness' Den.

"Mr. Duarte," the Bitch addresses me distractedly. "You have one strike against you."

"One more!" I gasp. That's it for me; I'm fired. Mrs. Hardison doesn't look up.

"No Mr. Duarte, you have a total of one strike against you unless you think I'm mistaken," she continues on. I don't know what to make of that. "You may go now," she dismisses me.

"Good night Mrs. Hardison," is my stunned response. She doesn't look up.

(Tuesday night)

Dinner is freaking weird. By our rules work doesn't transfer over to home life - the very concept of home life is slowly sinking in and scaring me -- so I can't talk about why in the hell the Bitch has been kind to me. As far as I know this is her first act of kindness in recorded history. I cook up some pork chops with onions and green peppers for dinner.

Gloria seems appreciative of the effort and cleans her plate. She doesn't kiss me but she slips me a smile when she thinks I'm not looking. When we resume our routine around the sofa and TV I do attempt to touch her knee but she stops me. She's still pissed and not willing to forgive me yet but at least I know there is a yet.

After my first day back at work I'm exhausted and sleep grabs hold of me and slams me into the pillow like a force of nature I willingly accept. I can't quite remember what I'm dreaming about because Gloria's voice invades my slumber urging me on to some unknown purpose.

"Wake up," she urges me so I open my eyes and there she is hovering over my bed.

I reach out toward this dream and caress a breast covered by her sleeping gown. It is real alright and I bolt into wakefulness so suddenly that I forget to move my hand.

"I need you," she tells me with a mingling of passion and anger. I scoot over and she pulls back the sheets, dispenses with her dressing gown, and settles into bed with me.

Gloria works off my boxers before running her hands over my body. She kisses my chest and neck intently before moving her leg over my hips and mounting me. I can't say I'm not more than ready, her pendulous breasts hanging over me eclipses only by the beauty that is her face and the fire of determination in her eyes.

Gloria sighs as she slowly accepts my cock into her. I can only now think that she might have feared never feeling this way again. She leans forward until her hands are braced on either side of my head and her breasts drag along my nipples as she gyrates back and forth. I'm sore and hurt but I go on even when she starts rocking hard and my wounded shoulder screams.

"Eddie," she gasps, "tell me you will never leave me again."

"Never again," I pant. She tries to suck the very life out of me with her mouth over mine. I feel her juices surround me then gush pass my penis. Her whole body trembles and tightens around me before she collapses on top of my body.

"That was fantastic," I groan.

"Ssshhh," Gloria whispers intensely. "I'm not done with you yet."

"Oh crap," I moan which earns me a wicked look and the knowledge that she really has missed me. After a little bit of a recovery she shifts us around so that I'm beside her (I can't well be on top with only one good arm). 

Our lovemaking is as much a matter of touch, kiss and tongue as breasts and penetrations. I do everything in my power to drive her insane with lust. I have her screaming and crying tears of rapture before I release her to climax and my climax within her. She's feeble pushing up against my hips as I kiss her head and neck but I barely have the strength to roll to the side when I'm done.

When she finishes with me I am a broken man.

"If I can't make it in tomorrow can I take a sick day?" I wheeze.

"How about a day of insolence," she counters between her own ragged breaths. She does manage to sleep with me which you know is worth its weight in gold if you've ever been in love.

(Wednesday)

"What; did you have a run in with a vampire?" Sadri giggles. "When do I get to see this girlfriend of yours? She's got to be quiet a hellcat in the bedroom."

"Would it annoy you to know you've already met her?" I wink.

"Claudia from Accounting? know she's go the hots for you and I hear she hits some seriously kinky sites. Maybe she could teach you something," Sadri teases.

"Don't expect to hear this often from me but I'm too tired to talk sex," I croak out. Sadri starts searching around for the cloning equipment because I'm clearly not the real me. We are both struggling in our work for the morning and after my last sensitivity training I'm ready to go home. We sense the trouble coming the way a predator's rumble permeates the forest as she stalks her pray. Sadri drops her stylus. The Bitch Queen has come down to our floor and focuses on our little bit of cubicle hell. She looks over the low wall that separates us from the outside world.




Mrs. Hardison Ch. 04



"Mr. Duarte," she commands with absolute superiority. "I require you for a social function this Friday evening. I will arrange transportation for you at seven thirty five. It is a black tie affair. You will be expected to perform the normal functions; this is an unpaid activity." I rise up and look at Mrs. Hardison.

"Of course Mrs. Hardison," I respond. Mrs. Hardison turns and strides away like the Queen of her Domain and a wonderful stride it is too.

When she is out of earshot Sadri whistles,

"So that's your mistress," she snickers. "That's a real tiger you have there, Tiger Cub."

"Who says I'm not the one in charge?" I lay on the false bravado.

"Eddie that was the clearest case of a girl marking her territory I've ever seen. You are her bitch and she wants everyone to know it," Sadri explains.

"The Bitch's bitch; how does that work?" I scoff.

"Usually with a strap-on," she grins wildly which makes me groan, sit down and put my head on my desk. "I have to ask you something; why did she choose you?" she asks.

"Fuck," I groan once more, "does no one believe I'm sexually irresistible?" Sadri finds that hysterical.

"Eddie, you are a nice guy, but hardly what a girl wishes for when she wants to get hammered all night long. You are the type of guy a girl calls up when her boyfriend has dumped her and she wants someone to hold while she eats ice cream and watches sappy movies," she instructs me.

"Why didn't you hit on me after your break up then?" I counter.

"Oh, I was going to but I wanted you to finish your sensitivity training first then you got shot and now you've been marked for death by the Queen Bitch so I guess we aren't going to happen," she smiles compassionately.

"Well thank you for that; you and I getting complicated is the last thing I need," I sigh.

"And the best thing yet is that this still doesn't answer the question of which woman shot you Eddie," she adds. "I swear I should get hazard pay just for working next to you."

"Funny like a crutch Sadri now let's finish up these last few calls and go home. I feel like crying into my pillow tonight," I groan.

(Wednesday evening)

I'm working my way through some Chicken Parmesan when Gloria comes gliding into the place. There is not bustling around the living room or standing in the doorway looking at me; she walks up behind me and wraps her around me from behind as she likes to do. 

"Smells good," she sighs breathlessly to me.

"Does this mean all is forgiven?" I hope.

"Not a chance," she whispers softly into my back.

"So, are you going to call in sick for our date?" she then inquires.

"I don't have the proper suit," I divert the question.

"It is in your closet," she says in an exasperated tone. "Haven't you looked at any of the clothes I bought you?"

"Not really; I am still uncomfortable with you buying me things. I wanted our relationship to be on a more even keel," I explain.

"Do you want to spend more time with me?" she asks.

"Yes, of course," I answer.

"Then wear the clothes and go out with me," she tells me. I hate her logic because now I feel like I'm abusing our relationship.

"What am I going to have to do Friday now besides shut up and look pretty," I accept my fate.

"Talk up people Eddie. You are a lot better at it than I am. As I told you when I first assigned you your latest project, you know people and they like you. You take the cold hard facts I know about my department and make them presentable," she outlines and I am yet again reminded how her mind works; nothing goes to waste.

"So you were going to use me this way all along?" I question her.

"As I said, from the moment I gave you your new assignment I was looking at this. I knew you were strong were I was weak. You have real passion Eddie where I am cold and demanding at both work and at home. I have to have you living by my rules but I can't stand the idea of losing you," she tells me as she turns me around and looks up into my eyes.

"You are such a bitch," I respond to her but with more compassion than heat. She can't help what she is and for years it has worked for her. Now she finds this annoying inconvenience in her life and she's totally unprepared for it. I go back to dinner and she preempts me by kissing me before I ask. As she compliments me on the meal and helps me put the dishes away I ask her.

"When you get over being angry with me I'm going to make love to you for twenty-four hours straight," I state casually.

"Be prepared for a long wait," she says haughtily.

"I'll give you until Saturday," I reply. Gloria thinks about it but says nothing.

(Friday evening)

Gloria isn't kidding; at the Gala function being stuck next to her is considered the kiss of death. Finally one woman, a trophy wife of some bigwig, decides to talk with me and we hit it off famously. We abandon any thought of highbrow talk and concentrate on Entertainment Weekly and People magazine as well as a handful of popular blogs. I make a stand against political discussions; I'm still trying recover from my gun wound after all. That earns me some laughs.

"Is it true you were found wounded in a room with a woman?" one of my new female friends questions playfully.

"Didn't she shoot you?" a man asks. I wonder how people learn about this stuff.

"I prefer to think of it as defending a woman's honor," I grin rakishly. Gloria takes that moment to wrap an arm in my arm.

"Gloria, was it your honor this young man was defending?" a co-worker asks.

"I would hope if he was defending my honor he would have been doing the shooting not getting shot," Gloria smiles evilly.

"Well, I can't tell you how scary it is to shoot another person but I can't recommend being shot," I chuckle.

A few of the women are forward enough to rub my wounded shoulder and tell me how brave I am. The 'defending a woman's honor' line doesn't cause me any harm either. When Gloria and I split off to get some drinks I feel Gloria's gaze on me.

"Gloria, is there something wrong?" I ask.

"Other women find you attractive Edward," she says evenly then I realize she's never seen me work a room. I'm hell at parties but it is something I've always been good at.

"There is only one woman I'm interested," I squeeze her hand. I can't imagine it is insecurity but more a matter of our surroundings and a concern about me.

"Mr. Duarte," I hear Joyce Cook's voice. "Mrs. Hardison." We turn and look at her together. Were Gloria looks elegant in a strapless black full length gown, Joyce is dressed in a halter topped silver gown which is molded to her curves. I pity the married men in the audience.

"It is good to see you both here today," she tells us.

"It is more surprising to see you here Ms. Cook," Gloria says with a hint of steel.

"I have a very true friend I wanted to see," she smiles back. Ouch.

"I think Mrs. Hardison and I need to be getting some drinks," I hurriedly say. "It is nice to see you Ms. Cook." I drag Gloria away not because I'm afraid of either woman doing anything but of people noticing the stand-off.

"How dare she even talk to you?" Gloria seethes.

"You win by doing nothing Gloria," I whisper. "There is nothing between us." She doesn't look at me but she squeezes my hand. We get drinks and head back to our little crowd. I notice a skilled operator drawing Gloria's attention away while another man approaches me.

"Hi; I'm Roland Iverson. I'm not sure we've met before," he gives me a false smile. Mind you, I have no idea who this guy is but his little game is getting under my skin. "You are Edward Duarte, Executive Assistant Director of Special Projects. What is it that you do exactly?"

"It is a new position Mrs. Hardison has created to implement her new streamlining initiatives," is all I can come up with since I have no idea who he thinks I really am. I am so full of bullshit.

"Mr. Duarte, what are you and Director Iverson discussing?" Gloria says serenely. Director? Oh fuck! Why can't any peons pick on me?

"Oh, he was giving me a hint of your new streamlining initiatives Gloria," Iverson responds cautiously.

"I'm seeing what works in Administration before going to the Board with my results," Gloria answers. Technically she isn't lying; my recent project is a streamlining measure.

"I look forward to your report," Iverson nods before slipping away.

"What was that about?" I ask her softly.

"Don't worry about it. That was the Director in charge of New Product Development," she whispers, "snooping around for information." 

"Why does he think I'm anything but a cubicle grunt?" I respond beneath the level of conversation.

"Don't worry about it," she pats my arm. We go back to the function and though I know Gloria is bored out of her mind she keeps us there for several hours. Only when we are driving home does she turn to me and smile.

"That was my most productive function in some time Eddie," she confides in me.

"I am glad you enjoyed yourself," I smile.

"One or two functions like this and I'll make VP of Operations then I'll crush Joyce Cook so hard she can't get job as a garbage collector," she gloats.

"Huh?" I mutter.

"Eddie, I am going to make her pay for you and for Vance," Gloria says vindictively. "Trust me; she will never hurt anyone ever again."

"Stop the car," I insist. When she seems reticent to do so, I open the door anyway. She stops before I find out what rolling from a moving car feels like.

"Eddie," she hisses. I get out and look back into the car.

"I'm walking home. Learn how to not fuck up a good time by going nuts over a lady who clearly isn't in her right mind," I snap then slam the door. I cover half a block before she finally moves the car.

When I get home Gloria is on the sofa waiting for me. She gets up and meets me in the hallway.

"How dare you stand up for her," she growls over my stand with Joyce.

"I have to live this life by your rules but I don't have to like it. If you are going to treat me like shit I love you enough keep going," I express sadly. "Now you have nothing to say I want to hear so get out of my way, I'm going to bed." 

"You don't get off that easy," Gloria persists.

"Gloria, you disappoint me," I sigh. I couldn't have had more effect if I've slapped her. She sputters as I step around her. I'm almost in my room when she catches up with me.

"I don't need your approval!" she snaps.

"I know. I don't care. Go away," I respond then shut the door.

"Don't you dare," she states coldly as she opens up the door behind me. I get ready for bed.

"Talk away; I'm not obliged to listen," I respond idly. Gloria trembles as the realization hits her. She can throw me out and win this one victory. My only tool is our love, she has all the other cards just the way she likes it.

Gloria is smart enough to not argue. I've got her; she's got one option left. She goes to bed only to return early the next morning. Her presence wakes me up once more.

"You can't treat me this way," she says in a distant voice.

"Don't let this eat you up then Gloria. I can't protect from yourself if you fight me on this hate," is my exhausted reply. I can tell this is not what she wants to hear.

"Let me slide in next to you," she asks in a manner that tells me she hasn't had much sleep too.

"No," I mutter.

"No?" she mutters.

"I would rather sleep in your bed; it smells like you and I can't think of any place I'd rather be," I respond.

"Do you have to win every argument tonight?" she sighs.

"Only the ones that help me get closer to you," I comfort her as I get out of my bed and go down the hall to her room. 

(Saturday)

I lie down with her leg raised up in a triangle, knee up and fool resting on her knee. I rest there looking into her pussy at the moment of arousal. I run a finger along crest of her lips, right at the opening. She is moist, but not wet; that is to come. My finger moves along, up and down, until she becomes damp enough to draw a steady line along the lips. 

At this point her lips begin to puff out and darken and I get her first muscular reactions. My next path brought out the first droplets of true juice and it slowly coats the tip of my finger. It is a warm lubricant that I edge up to her semi-engorged clit, running that finger along her until I circle to the top and leaves a perfect pearl of her fluid on tip glistening there in the light.

I blow on that chosen point and Gloria moves her head off my cock long enough to sigh. It had been a long time since she'd given a blowjob -- fifteen years at least -- and she was taking it easy because of that. As my own activities were heightening her arousal she began messing up a little, sucking too hard or touching with teeth.

In the current state of our relationship I am hardly going to criticize her technique. She is trying and is showing real passion as well as her incredible ability to learn quickly. By the time I let my tongue touch her slit for the first time she is learning to bob up and down and stimulate with the her tongue at the same time.

I slip one finger in on each side labia, pulling her lips apart so I can dip my tongue in deeper. Surprisingly the trembling of my weaker arm causes Gloria to moan. I begin to studiously tongue-fuck, causing her to twirl her hips and push down on me. She gets me back by pulling enough of my cock into her so that it touches the back of her throat. Gloria gags but I can feel her smiling at me as I gasp.

We are serenading one another sexually for some time before a combination of Gloria's attentiveness and my own fatigue has me warning her I'm about to cum.

"Aaahhh, what do I do?" she panics. 

"I can shoot on your chest," I suggest. 

Gloria hesitates then I feel her suction latch onto my head once more. She doesn't take much in but the touch is enough to make my body stretch like a bow and shoot down her throat. She chokes and sputters but keeps sucking until my body returns to my control.

"Thank you," I gasp as I take a peek down to where she's licking her lips and looking oh-so proud of herself.

"Put that tongue back to work," she purrs and I hasten to obey.

Finished, we are laying back in bed my head resting on her stomach as she rubs her finger along my forehead to the bridge of my nose when Gloria rocks her hips and asks me,

"Where do we stand?"

"I think we are stronger; you have forgiven me a bit more and I understand how much you really care for me," I try to explain.

"I wish sex would somehow make everything better," she sighs wistfully.

"No you don't; you are far too smart for that, Gloria. You want things to make sense and that is something I love about you," I point out. "You don't throw your body at problems; you reward your body when you solve problems."

"What about you?" she asks. I stifle a quip and think about my reply.

"Do you doubt for a second I'm a better man for having known you?" I answer.

"No, but it is good to hear you say it," she murmurs happily.

(Monday)

I come in and find Sadri standing in our shared cubicle. I am about to joke to her about getting to work when I realize that that we have no chairs to sit down in. That's not so bad because we also have no phones and not computer stations to work from. We've been vacated.

"Eddie, what the hell did you do to the Bitch because this is the weirdest form of pink slip I've ever seen?" Sadri jokes poorly.

"Hold on," I tell her. I slip over to a co-worker's phone and call Kelly in facilities and see if she knows what's going on.

"Yeah, we came in at seven and moved you up to 542," she tells me. Wow, that's a floor up I think. "Where is Sadri Gupta?"

"She's in the same office," Kelly chuckles. "I think you've been promoted."

"Thanks Kelly. If you need anything let me know," I say before I sign off. "Sadri, come on; we have a new office."

"Weeee!" Sadri sings out. "I'm not fired!" After a moment she adds, "And it's good you have a job too."

On the fifth floor we make our way to 542 which turns out to be a small converted conference room, but it is still heads-and-shoulders above what we have started. Most fantastically there is someone working on the door.

"Executive Assistant Director of Special Projects" is being stenciled on the door.

Sadri looks it over, sets herself up and comes back to the door.

"Is that you or me, and if it is me, where is my raise?" she snickers.

"I think it is me," I groan.

"No raise, eh?" she sighs. "Well, we still have work to do."



Mrs. Hardison Ch. 05



*What you treasure defines you so choose wisely *

(Mature)

*

(Three months later)

Sadri and I got our raises for our new positions. Sadri was gleeful until I explained that one adjustment (small) in the pay-grade wasn't the same as one grade (big). Guess which one the Bitch gave us? Sadri joked about 'who did she have to kill to get ahead in this company?' to which I responded 'Me'. She decided on getting a contract killer; she discovered all she could afford on her salary was a belligerent five year old doing a drive-by on a tricycle with a slingshot.

Sadri and my relationship has also expanded. On Tuesday and Thursday nights we would hit a few bars with some co-workers for an hour. Sadri was cool about it, but several people were unsure how to handle me. I am dating the Bitch so did that mean hanging out with me is good for their career, or something she'd become jealous about? Women have a particular problem with this.

Still things were going well until Friday morning.

(Friday)

We are sitting at the table eating some brand cereal that Gloria likes. She's reading the Wall Street Journal while I'm reading the morning City Section in the Times-Herald. Gloria's head pops up and she looks at me somewhat concerned. Before I can say anything she gets up and runs to the downstairs bathroom. I follow her and hear vomiting.

My first thought is that she's caught a stomach bug. I've heard rumors that something is going around.

"Gloria love, do you want me to make an appointment with the doctor?" I ask. Gloria nods before rushing in for another vomiting session. When she comes back out I wrap my arms around her and take her to the sofa.

It takes some time to get a nurse, but they do agree to see Gloria later in the morning.

"Do you want me to drive you in?" I offer.

"No, you need to get those updates on my desk by two. Don't be late," she commands. "Besides I'm starting to feel better." That doesn't stop her from leaning into me for a while. Really she just looks a little worn down.

Later at work, I do slip by Leslie's desk to make sure Gloria has gone to the doctor and Leslie gives me a thumb's up. Work is so crazy that I can't say I give it too much thought until I come through the door that evening. I walk in and find Gloria there before me, which is odd since she always works late. She is watching TV, also odd, and gives me barely a nod when I walk past. I decide to come back for my kiss once dinner starts.

When I do come back I lean in to kiss her when my danger sense kicks in. She's glaring at me, but not in the 'I'm going to gut you like a trout' way, but more like 'You've done something wrong but don't know it yet' way.

"Babe, what's the problem? What did the doctor say?" I ask.

"Morning Sickness," she responds bluntly. Every man from the beginning of time can tell you there is no good response to this. It is entirely my fault, I can do nothing about this, and running away is not an option.

"Baby, I'm so sorry," I beg.

"The doctor says this could last a few weeks, a month or two, or even for the rest of my pregnancy. A woman of my age... my age... needs to worry about these things," Gloria seethes.

"Gloria there is nothing wrong with your age," I try and explain.

"You're just saying that because you want to have sex me, don't you?" she glares. Again, there is no clearly right answer to this question.

"Gloria I only want to have sex with you if you want to have sex," I hazard.

"We are not having sex tonight," she states forcibly.

"I'll miss that, but okay," I answer which mollifies her somewhat. Right now she's worn down but still wants to be desirable. I've got to balance those two along with the fact that Gloria's default mode is that of a hedgehog. Let's say that getting dinner on the table is a treat. When we've cleaned up and are back around the sofa, I feel there is something I need to check on.

"Gloria, are we still going to the wedding tomorrow?" I inquire. One of my workmates invited me to his wedding months ago, before anything with Gloria happened and tomorrow is the date. I can't say how happy he is that Mrs. Hardison is coming as my date. She isn't Ms. Popularity and I'm sure she's never socialized with her employees.

"I don't know", she grumbles. "I don't relish the idea of being at an affair with a bunch of people who clearly don't like me."

"It isn't going to be that bad," I put the best spin on it.

"They call me The Bitch," she points out, "which hardly makes me believe I'll be welcome... but you can go without me," she allows.

"Screw that nonsense," I insist. "You are my date; my partner and we are going. I mostly do what you want to do so tomorrow we are going to do what I want to do."

"I don't remember that being our agreement," she points out. Sure, it was supposed to be her rules, but was I really paying attention when she said that?

"All we need to do is sit through the wedding -- maybe forty-five minutes -- and make a showing at the reception. It won't be that bad," I promise.

"Well I suppose we can stick around until the presents are opened," Gloria allows. Suddenly I see a problem and Gloria senses my vulnerability.

"I returned the lingerie you brought for the couple, Eddie," she groans. "Seriously, men buy lingerie for men to see women in. I bought them something a little more fitting."

Great, I'm thinking 'blender', or maybe matching wrist watches so they'll never be late to work again. Gloria shifts against me, sits and rises.

"Let's go upstairs," she instructs me. I click off the TV and follow along. I can't help but hold her hips as I watch her climb the steps ahead of me. She looks behind me and smiles knowingly. When we get to her bedroom she starts stripping off her clothes and I do the same while enjoying the show. I reach over to her dresser and hand her a night shirt.

"That won't be necessary tonight," she smiles with a gleam in her eye.

"But... wait, you said we weren't," I babble.

"I'm a pregnant woman Eddie. I'm hormonal and I'm going to change my mind. Get used to it," she taunts me. She saunters over to me and wraps her arms around my neck. She motions to the bed with a flip of her head.

"Now let's get over there and figure out who gets to be on top," she grins. Sure I know hormones can also mean screaming, and crying, and moodiness, but right now they are being good to me. Sue me; I'm a guy.

(Saturday)

We are sitting toward the back of the outdoor theater when Gloria tilts her head to me.

"My ass still hurts," she sighs.

"Well, you were the one who insisted we do it in the shower," I respond while rubbing her wrist. Gloria likes anal sex so I give her anal sex.

"You insisted it was a cure for morning sickness," she teases.

"Now you are just making shit up," I snicker. "But wait... you haven't been sick today yet have you?" Gloria thinks about it a moment then shrugs.

"Let's not press our luck," she whispers as the processional begins.

The bride and groom come down the aisle. Women make an analysis of the dress while men scope the crowd because they know their dates are busy. I'm a little too cautious for that because I know that Gloria really does have eyes in the back of her head.

"You would look good in that," I whisper to her.

"I don't know," she responds softly, but she does squeeze my arm. We remain quiet as the ceremony unfolds. In a way I'm grateful that the vows are constrained and the service streamlined. I'm not sure how much Gloria can take, both emotionally and physically. Her enjoyment of the situation intrigues me.

At the reception we pick at the food and make some small talk with some of the couples around us. Thankfully they are family or co-workers of the bride so there is very little stigma for Gloria. She is hardly sterling conversation, but she looks lovely and has a certain elegant appeal. When it comes time for gifts, Gloria drags me from the back of the pack and positions us closer to the front.

Several large presents come first; things like a TV, wine chiller, and audio equipment. A few minor things are chosen next and then an envelope falls to the ground. The bride picks it up and I can see the groom grimace. He puts his best face to it and I have to wonder what kind of loser has sent a card. The bride looks at the contents, looks at them again, then rushes to her hubby showing him the contents as well.

Next thing I know they are coming to us and hugging me and Gloria, while thanking us profusely. For the life of me I can't figure out what has happened until the wife announced that 'we' -- Gloria and I -- have extended their three-day Honeymoon Vacation to the Bahamas, to a whole week. I hug Gloria tightly and whisper to her,

"What the hell happened to you?" 

"I asked myself what insane, over the top, irresponsible thing you would do," she responds under the verbal current of the crowd.

"Thanks, I think," I grin. "Now what is the real reason?"

"My husband and I didn't have much of a honeymoon. We planned to have a grand second one but that never worked out," she sighs sadly. I think she is happy that I haven't taken the quick way out. I am not going to cheer and say this Gloria is no longer 'The Bitch', but she's taken a tentative first step in becoming a little more human in the eyes of everyone.

She keeps close to me for the rest of the night until the dancing begins. I can tell that Gloria is a bit bored; small talk isn't her thing. When the dancing starts I take Gloria out on the floor with me after the First Dance. She looks absolutely stunning and I love the way she whirls in my arms and I can tell she is enjoying herself.

One of my co-workers, Adam Gills, comes up and breaks in. I am momentarily taken aback but step aside. Gloria gives me a curious look as Adam sweeps her away. It doesn't end there though. When the next dance comes around, a guy named Scott comes around and whisks Gloria onto the floor.

I take the break to spend some time with a few interesting ladies myself until I am 'broken into' by Gloria who looks a bit cross.

"Don't worry," she whispered into my shoulder. "I'll punish you for dancing with all those other women when we get home."

"What? So you can dance with other men but I can't?" I mutter.

"No. You can dance with any man you want; it is the women I have the problem with," she teases. Another guy comes by to dance with Gloria. This is one of the bride's cousins if I recall and can't be over twenty-five. This has to do wonders for Gloria's ego ... and mine.

The look on Gloria's face is priceless. She examines my own features looking for duplicity of some kind.

"Thank you," Gloria responds, "but I'll keep the man I have for now." He nods gracefully and leaves.

"Have you paid these men to come up and dance with me?" she accuses.

"Honey, I should be charging them the opportunity to dance with you," I counter which causes her to blush.

"Would there be any money in that?" she grins.

"With the right kind of discerning and discreet clientele, I could make a killing," I say between kisses. Gloria smirks.

"What would my percentage be," she plays along.

"Well," I draw it out, "You are the sexiest and strongest woman I've ever met so... twenty percent."

"How about doing that the other way around?" she growls playfully. I spin her around so that I'm pressed against her back and nibble her ear.

"This wasn't what I meant by the other way around," she murmurs.

"Have you ever had sex at a wedding?" I softly speak into her ear. Gloria flinches then rubs up against me.

"You are a bastard," she responds quietly. "We'll get caught and then it will be all over the office."

"Tell me you aren't hot just thinking about it?" I ask. Gloria seems to be mulling it over.

"Let's get some drinks," she suggests as she takes my hand and leads me off the floor.

We are getting some drinks and I catch Gloria looking at one of the exits.

"I can't do this," she whispers. "I'm sorry but I can't; my career." I hug her. Getting caught banging her boyfriend would be ruinous. It is bad enough that she's 'dating' me. The revelation that she's carrying my child will only make things more difficult. She's risked a lot by sticking with me.

Thankfully I have an answer for the problem.

"Well, there is one way around all of this," I inform her. She looks to me expectantly. "Gloria, marry me. As husband and wife it doesn't matter if we sneak off." I pull out the little box and open if for her. Okay, it isn't much of a ring but it is the best that I can afford.

Gloria trembles and looks around. I've been discrete in doing this because I don't want to put her on the spot and I could do without the humiliation as well. She looks down at my gift and picks it up with both hands, tears in her eyes.

"Eddie... I need to think about this," she whispers. This is the second time I've asked her, but this is far more serious an attempt on my part. It wasn't a 'no'.

(Sunday)

I'm working on fajitas for lunch when Gloria eases her arms around my waist and rests her hand on my back.

"Hey Honey," I murmur.

"Mmmm..." this isn't her normal response.

"You okay Gloria," I ask over my shoulder. Her slender fingers slip down beneath my belt, teasing my crotch. All I can think is that this is new. She enhances this perception by biting into my back; painful and erotic at the same time. I flick the pan to a back burner before turning around and wrapping my arms around her. Gloria looks up me with a vibrant hunger in her, confirmed by the tongue that licks her lips.

I start to move us to the stairs, but she refuses to move instead working my pants down here in the kitchen. Changing directions I grab the bottom of Gloria's sweat shirt and violently yank it up. This surprises her but I see the excitement burning in her eyes. It surprises me because I'd missed the fact that Gloria took off her bra when she last went upstairs.

I lean down to taste one of her succulent breasts, but she stops me with both hands on my shoulders.

"No," she commands. She hooks her thumbs into my waistband and shifts my pants down to my ankles, letting me step out of them one leg at a time. Before she stands, she leans in and kisses me twice along my shaft and once upon my cockhead.

"No underwear?" she questions me with a smile.

"I was feeling optimistic," I say with some embarrassment. "What is your excuse?"

"My house, my man, my desire," she grins wickedly, "I don't need an excuse."

I start to take her upstairs. Gloria shakes her finger at me.

"I want to do it on the table," she purrs. I don't know what to think; thankfully my cock is thinking for me. I tear off my shirt while Gloria wiggles out of her tight shorts. She starts to get this smug superior look on her face, so I grab her up and toss her onto my hips. Gloria responds by wrapping her legs around my waist, kissing me and running her fingers through my hair.

"Fuck me," she growls into my ear. I drive her ass onto the top of the table, swivel my hips and slip inside her velvety glove. I'm getting ready to tease her. Gloria has other plans; her legs wrap around me, crossing at the small of my back, and pulling me in sharply. Since that is the way she wants to play it, I push up on my toes and slam back down into her. I hope this doesn't give my kid a flat head or something like that.

Gloria and I are grunting and growling like lust crazed animals. I'm not sure where this is coming from but I like it. Too soon she bounces up against my body and screams out my name, as well as a few shout outs to the Almighty. I back out of her and let her catch her breath, but she props up her upper body and stares at me with a dark, hungry look.

Gloria slides off the table and goes onto her knees before me. Her legs are still a little weak but she is more than capable of taking my cock in hand and stroking it.

"Hmmm..." is the noise she makes as she takes her fingers off my cock to her lips. She sniffs her fluids on her hands and takes a lick. She is not in love with the taste of her fluids, but she's not disgusted either.

Returning to my cock, Gloria goes back to tasting it.

"Take it easy," I request. Gloria responds by gobbling down as much of me as she can, as fast as she can. She gags, but refuses to quit until she is able to lap my balls with her tongue, while her throat is tightly engulfed by the muscles in her throat. 

"Gloria!" I warn her. "I'm cumming... I'm cummmm..." and I start shooting my sperm down her throat. She gurgles and gargles and gulps as the sperm goes down, but nothing escapes her. I stagger back into a chair and sit down.

"Damn Babe, what's gotten into you?" I gasp.

"What's gotten into me; the appetizer. I'm working up to the main course," she informs me authoritatively. Sometimes I have to remind myself that I'm the young one in this relationship.

"Food then sex," Gloria instructs me in the day's activities. I grin my approval of the plan, get my pants back on and go back to the stove. Cooking naked can ruin your whole day, trust me.

(Monday Evening)

It's been a long day with Sadri working on the Beta, when I drag myself in around eight. I hurriedly make up some noodles, cheese and bread so that I miss Gloria looking pensive. We are about five bites in when she clears her throat.

"Eddie, I've decided that we are not going to get married."

I hesitate, take a deep breath and nod. It hurts; it hurts bad, but I have to hope this is a battle I can fight and win later.

"I've also decided that when our child is born I'll only have my name on the birth certificate. That way we won't have to worry about parental responsibility," she adds calmly.

I lose focus. I'm vaguely aware that I put my fork down and stand up.

"Eddie?" Gloria asks as I exit the kitchen. I keep walking. "Eddie?" I'm at the stairs when I hear her coming around to catch up. "Eddie." I keep walking. She remains a few steps behind me as I go into the bedroom and start changing.

"Eddie, what are you doing?" Gloria snaps. I meet her gaze but don't dare put my thoughts to words. I'm torn between a sinking emptiness and apoplectic rage. I pull on my jeans, slip on a long sleeve shirt and lean down to put on my sneakers.

"Eddie, talk to me," she commands. At this moment ignoring her is my best option so I take it. 

Gloria walks over to me and puts a hand on my shoulder and when I don't respond she tries to force me up so that we can talk. I shrug her off violently.

"Eddie, what's wrong? Talk to me," she snaps. I finish lacing up my shoes, stand and look down at her.

I can't even tell her how pathetic that question is; not right now. She grasps my arm and I yank it away before heading downstairs to get the hell out of here, before I do something I'll really regret.

"Eddie, don't be such a damn child and talk to me," Gloria shouts shrilly. I grab my wallet and keys before exiting. I don't bother slamming the door and I hardly notice her standing there as I walk down the street.

"Sadri, it is Eddie; I need a place to crash tonight? Could you oblige?" I ask over the phone.

"Umm... sure Eddie," Sadri responds. I can tell she's a bit curious, but polite enough for me to come around to it in my own time. By the time I show up at her door she's made up the sofa for me to sleep on. Her place is pretty tiny with two small bedrooms, but only one bed so the sofa is my best bet for a good night's sleep.

"Trouble in Paradise?" Sadri finally breaks down and asks.

"Suffice it to say I'll be moving out and I doubt I'll be back," I confess.

"Ouch; should I expect to be fired next week?" she winks.

"I don't think there will be collateral damage Sadri. She needs one of us to keep the project running," I tell her.

"Well, I'm sorry about that. I thought you had something, really," she consoled me.




Mrs. Hardison Ch. 05



"So did I," I sigh. We sit there in awkward silence for a minute, then Sadri cuts on the TV and we pretty much blow off the night. As I'm lying there with the lights out, grappling with my feelings, I wonder if that last bout of sex was Gloria softening me up for her announcement.

(Monday)

Knowing that Gloria goes in early, I slip back into her house, get dressed and make it to work on time. It doesn't take long before most of my co-workers discover I'm in a dark place, but Sadri keeps my confidence. I'm chiseling away at my work when Leslie tells me I have a two o'clock briefing. This is going to be fun.

Two o'clock rolls around and I'm waiting at Leslie's desk. I judge the situation by how long she makes me wait, which turns out to be not long at all, which indicates she's tightly in control.

"Mrs. Hardison," I say as I come to a stop in front of her desk. She is going over my latest data, nods a few times and asks a few questions which I answer quickly. I don't want to give her an excuse to be petty.

As she dismisses me I catch her looking me over. I don't give a crap and it shows when I sweep past Leslie's desk. She flashes me a worried look, but I've got nothing to say to her either. I burn through the rest of the day and bolt at quitting time, rush home and pack up my stuff. The last thing I need is a messy thing where I most likely will say things I'll regret.

The door swings open as I am making my way down the stairs, my cab waiting for me. Gloria studies me for a second. She's a smart girl so she doesn't bother me with stupid questions.

"I bought you those dress suits," she points out evenly. I drop them on the stairs, keeping going down to the first floor.

"Eddie, talk to me," Gloria orders. "Tell me what is going on?"

"The worst part of it is Gloria that you have to ask," I groan.

"What is that supposed to mean?" she responds suspiciously. I round on her so fast she took a step back in fear. She recovers quickly and steps right back into my face with fierce pride.

"Are we done?" I ask.

"I don't know; are we?" she replies.

"Well, I'm still hopelessly in love with you," I say with my own dark intensity as if it hurts me to say those words.

"I... I love you too Eddie. So why are you leaving?" she counters.

"Because you can only hurt me so much before it all becomes too much Gloria. I can take being the junior member of this partnership, but when you clearly have no respect for me I know it is time for me to go."

"What are you talking about?" Gloria questions. Lean against the wall and exhale.

"You are taking my child away from me Gloria. Without ever giving me a chance to be a father, you are tossing me aside," I explain to her.

"It is not like that," she tries to tell me.

"To Hell it isn't," I growl.

"It is a name on a piece of paper," she tries to explain.

"Bullshit Gloria; I'm not a lawyer, but I can tell that you can take my child at any time you like. You don't have faith that I'm going to stick around, so you are pre-empting me from any possibility of hurting you. That shows me you have no respect for me and no trust. I don't want your wealth, but I deserve the chance to be a parent."

"I'm thinking about what is best for the child," Gloria tells me. I get up off the wall and reach for the door.

"Eddie, if you go out that door we are done," she declares bitterly. I snort and keep going. Before the door shuts she grabs it and steps outside with me as I head for the sidewalk.

"Eddie," she chokes out. I lower my head to my chest wondering if this is worth it.

"Gloria, do you have any idea how low you've made me feel?" I ask. By the lack of response I figure she hasn't a clue. "I live in your house, wear the clothes you bought me, eat the food you provide, and work in your department. You have the power in this relationship, I get it."

"This is the first time you've bludgeoned me with this reality though. I submit, or I fight and I've decided to fight you on this," I say. Her eyes sparkle at my defiance, but I'm not playing a game. "I'll stay at work until you fire me then I'll find another job. I'll save my money and fight you ever step of the way. I'll fight for my child until I have nothing left."

"Don't do this Eddie. You can't beat me," she announces.

"You are needlessly cruel and cold, Gloria. I've been trying to see you in some other light for months now," I answer.

"I'm not some kind of project," she says with some heat.

"No Gloria, you are the woman I love," I respond. She has no response for that. Once more I'm heading out.

"Eddie," she whispers, "I don't want us to end." I could walk away but that would be bullheaded and selfish. 

If I've learned anything in life it is to look past my own ego... most of the time. I have to think of something quick. I can't just say 'take those words back'; that would be pointless.

"Gloria, if you want us to try and make this work, stay late tomorrow -- until nine. I want to show you something," I ask her.

She hesitates; I wait, not breathing, in anticipation of what this is coming down to.

"Okay, I'll do it. Are you happy? Now come inside," she replies softly.

"No," I respond. She looks angry so I continue. "If I go inside I'll want to sleep with you and if I do that I'll stop being angry with you, because you are that damn addictive."

That brings her up short, angry and lustful at the same time. She steps up and kisses me lightly on the lips, then with more passion and then I wrap her up in my spare arm crushing her to me.

"I have to go," I whisper to her before breaking our embrace.

"Eddie wait, let me get your suits," Gloria says. I wait for Gloria to get my dress bag then put them in the cab. She doesn't look at me as she hands my things over, and goes back inside without further comment.

(Tuesday Night)

Gloria is working away as I walk into her room. I have enough respect for her position and status that I knock first and get a nod of permission before doing so. When she finishes up whatever has been absorbing her attention, she meets my gaze.

"What is all of this about?" she states coldly. Clearly she's been stewing over this all day long.

"Come with me," I beckon as I stand aside. Gloria grumbles, stands, whips her jacket off the back of the chair and slips it on. She walks past me into the hallway and waits impatiently.

"Were to?" she snaps. I grab her arm and start leading her to the elevators. Gloria resists, but I'm not in the mood to play around, and I feel her twist uncomfortably as I keep a tight grip on her upper arm.

In fact she is so angry with me that she doesn't realize our destination until we are standing in front of the door several stories down.

"Why are we here?" she asks angrily.

"This was your first office Gloria, now get inside," I growl back. Gloria glares at me as she crosses the threshold.

I push her toward the desk. She stumbles into it, tipping over it and shooting me a dirty look over her shoulder. Gloria is starting to turn around, but I put one hand on her shoulder and another on her hip to keep her in place, as I press my body into her.

"Get off me," she snarls. 

"I've not even started yet," I respond gruffly.

"I don't know what you are trying to prove Eddie, I'm not afraid of this room," she challenges me. I lean on her and move my lips to her ear which I lick.

"You will go far in this company," I whisper seductively.

"Stop it!" she snaps and tries to wiggle free. I use my weight to keep her pinned and fish a small box out of my pocket which I place in front of her.

"I brought you a gift, Gloria. I know you will earn it," I adlib the last bit but Gloria tenses.

"Stop it," she insists nervously. I push her down harder and she starts pushing up with one hand and clawing back at me with the other.

"You will go far in this company, Gloria," I taunt her pretty much like Mr. Vance did when he was raping her all those years ago in this very office. Gloria thinks she toughed it out back then, but the reality is that she closed all of this off, cauterizing the rest of her life.

"Stop it Eddie," she shouts with more desperation. I grab her free hand and slam it onto the desk above her head causing her to whimper. I grind my hip against her. "No..."

"You will go far in this company Gloria," is my mantra.

"Okay Eddie," she pleads, "this is enough."

"Be a good girl and spread your legs for me Gloria," I murmur. I press a hand between her thighs and despite her struggles I manage to slip up her skirt.

"No," she says somewhere close to a sob. She's not over the edge yet, but she's getting there. Gloria makes one more desperate effort to throw me off, coming within a hair's breadth of success.

This time I stand up and press down hard on her shoulders, grinding her into the table.

"Eddie," she chokes, "Stop it Eddie, please." Instead I pick up the hem of her grey wool skirt with both hands and yank it up to her hips. Gloria shivers but I can see her mind struggling to cope with the situation.

"You will go far in this company," I say softly once more, one hand stroking her ass along the cleft between her thigh and ass, while the other plucks at her bra through her burgundy shirt.

"Please," she whimpers. I think I've gone far enough.

"Gloria, how powerless do you feel?" I ask her threateningly. Gloria shakes her head.

I cup my hand and press it against her sex. She's not soaking wet at all; she's trembling and scared, literally whimpering beneath me.

"Eddie," she pleads one more time. I place my hands on her upper arms and pull her up letting her skirt fall down once more. She sobs as I pull her around then tips her head up until we are making eye contact.

"Gloria, did you think I was going to rape you just like he did?" I ask her.

"I... yes and I don't know why?" she looks into my eyes trying to find an answer.

"How did that feel?" I say again. She is clearly confused which leaves me feeling frustrated. "That is how you made me feel Gloria. You castrated me and you didn't even care."

She's clearly going from shaken to angry, but she's also the smartest woman I know.

"Let's go home," I tell her.

"I'm not sure I want to go home with you," she states.

"Very well," I concede. I turn and start walking way.

"What? Is that it?" she says sharply. "You are just going to leave?" I stop and half turn toward her.

"Gloria, I brought you to the site of previous rapes and sexually assaulted you. I hardly feel like forcing you any farther. In fact I'm rather sick with myself," I explain.

"I'll let you know when you can come back home," she declares.

"If you aren't going to acknowledge me as the father of our child, don't bother," I reply.

"You aren't going to give this up are you?" Gloria mutters.

"Would you?" I counter. She gives me a second then shakes her head.

I shrug, make for the elevator and wait for my ride. Gloria and I go up, gather our stuff, and share a ride down in silence. As the doors open to the first floor -- Gloria is going to the basement -- Gloria puts a hand on my arm.

"I'll think about this Eddie," she promises.



Mrs. Hardison Ch. 06



*To make everyone your friend you must first bury a bunch of bodies*

*

(This is for everyone who kept at me to work on this story; those who begged, pleaded, cajoled, requested, and that rare one who threatened to reach through the internet and beat me so badly my ancestor, who came across on the Mayflower [yes, I do have a Mayflower ancestor], would jump into the Atlantic to spare me the agony. I love you all and you are better than I deserve.)

(Wednesday, one week later)

"Mr. Duarte, you have a lunch appointment today at Cabaros -- noon," Leslie tells me. She'd lean into my office space to say hello and deliver the message.

"Sure thing," I respond. Sadri gives me a look so I shrug. When Leslie departs, Sadri cracks a grin.

"What? No e-mail in her part of the world?"

"I think this meeting is off the books," I sigh.

"You can always tell her to stuff it," Sadri offers. "She's made you pretty miserable and it isn't like she's been doing you any favors recently." She means Gloria of course.

"Saying it is complicated is like calling our work load as a tad intensive," I grin back.

"Don't worry; I won't rent the sofa out just in case," she teases me.

"Thanks. I doubt I'll be leaving soon. I don't even know what she wants to discuss," I admit.

"Let me know when to send out the search parties," she taunts me one more time before work summons us.

I walk into the restaurant with my insides burning as if I'd swallowed a bag full of razor blades. I've almost convinced myself that this is a doomed course of action when I see her. Gloria Hardison is staring at me with an intensity that convinces me she's been waiting for me to walk through that door all day. I approach cautiously and sit down in the chair opposite her because now her look makes me think I can win; not the war, but this battle.

"Hello Mrs. Hardison," I say carefully.

"Good afternoon Eddie," she responds in an equally guarded manner.

"It is good to see you," I add. It really, really is true.

"I have been thinking about you," she replies.

"Ditto ... a lot."

"It hasn't impacted your work," she notes.

"I still want you to be proud of me and worthy of the trust you put in me," I confess. She doesn't respond to that immediately. Instead we order food and drink and wait numbly for the meal to arrive.

"I will never forgive you," she mutters when we are almost finished.

"I understand that. I can't forgive myself," I tell her. What I can't forgive myself for is using her secret against her. I still feel hurting her like she hurt me was my only option besides walking away.

"Stop being so damn reasonable Eddie," she snaps. A fight will give her an excuse to run away from our relationship and lay the total blame on me. I'm not falling for that trap.

"I tried irrational and that really fucked things up," I relate.

"Still joking?" she accuses me bitterly.

"If I couldn't laugh I'd probably walk into traffic," I explain. She seems to think that over.

"Why don't you?" she hammers me with her eyes.

"That would be selfish; I have two more lives to think about now," I answer. "I can't be that goofy college kid anymore; I don't have the luxury." Telling her I think she's being selfish will only hurt the three of us.

"We don't need you," she states.

"You don't get to make that call," I bite back. It is time to fight; I won't surrender my principles on this matter -- I am not going to budge on this. Gloria glares at me.

"This was a mistake," she growls.

"If you say so," I shrug. "I wasn't expecting much from you. You have much to be pissed about and I'm not sure the morning sickness has made things easier for you."

"I'll put you on the birth certificate but you have to promise me that if we split up I get majority custody," Gloria surprisingly offers. I have to mull that over until the underlying implication hits me. She's not only made the first step (our child) but the second one as well (our home). 

"You said 'if we split up'?" I question. "That suggests that we will get back together."

"Yes it does," she nods.

"I promise you that if something happens I'll settle for visitation rights," I tell her. "I'll never try to take our child away from you and I'll sign whatever you need to make you sure of that fact."

"Very well," she allows. "The morning sickness is still horrible and...I miss someone helping me hold my hair out of the way."

"I can take care of that for you," I offer. She nods, takes a few bites but remains silent.

"Where have you been staying?" she redirects into the lack of conversation.

"With Sidra," I respond. She shows no chink in her outer calm.

"I thought a different co-worker would have been more convenient," she muses but what she was really saying is 'why a female co-worker?'

"Quite frankly we work together so much we are practically living in each other's boots. I know more about her life than her Mother does. Also, the last thing I need right now is some guy dragging a date home at two in the morning while I'm trying to sleep," I explain. "She isn't seeing anyone and knows enough about my situation to not pry, which is a big plus."

"She has become a far more effective employee since she's been working with you," Gloria observes.

"You handpicked her for the project Gloria and for good or ill it is your leadership that gets things done," I counter.

"You still drive me crazy Eddie," she grumbles.

"That's fair," I confess. "It makes me crazy being separated from you."

"No, those are two opposite forces tearing us apart," Gloria glares angrily.

"Oxygen and Hydrogen, by themselves, are explosive forces but together they create water, the wellspring of life," I try to make my point.

"That response seems far more thought out than normal," she notes.

"I'm trying to be more careful since we are actually taking face-to-face," I nod.

"You keep promising me things and then disappointing me," which seems to be the heart of the matter. I'm not perfect and I'm not likely to become perfect and that's something she needs to understand. I can't be the perfect man who always provides, protects and sustains her; no one can.

"I know I suck at holding up my side of the relationship, but you have to know I'm trying," I offer. "Give me the tiniest bit of respect for my resilience at least. I never stop trying to be there for you despite all my failures. I've never given up on us."

"Should I treat you with the respect you haven't earned Eddie? 

"Gloria, I can't both knuckle under and stand as your mate at your discretion; that isn't how it works," I respond with some anger.

"This isn't about my decision-making, Eddie, it is about duties and making our lives easier," Gloria counters.

"Who told you that?" I wonder. "You didn't let me into your world because I balanced your life, made it easier or I was something that would make your career path smoother."

"I let you into my life because I wasn't complete without you," she beats me to the punch.

"I haven't thought about being with another woman since you let me in," I tell her.

"Except Joyce, who you have seen pretty much naked, that cute medical intern in the hospital and I'm sure Sadri walks around her dwelling dressed like a nun," she says dryly.

"I was hoping you missed that incident with the female med student," I gulp.

"No."

"Sadri dresses app...okay, she goes around in a men's sports jersey, but it is her home after all," I confess.

"I'm sure you've suffered appropriately," she states but I catch her smile before she looks down at her plate. She isn't put off by the idea that I've been getting sexually frustrated, not one bit.

We don't talk again until we pay the check (separately) and make our way to the sidewalk.

"What are we having for dinner?" she says unexpectedly.

"Is that an order or a request?" I hazard.

"It is...I would like to see you if that is okay, Mr. Duarte?" she asks while looking at everything but me.

"In that case there has been this nice stuffed crab dish I've been waiting to take a crack at," I respond. "Don't expect to eat until eight-thirty or so. It takes some time to serve right."

"Do you crack open crab shells with a hammer?" she muses.

"Something is getting hammered tonight," I warn her.

"Keep dreaming," Gloria smirks.

"Absolutely," I give back. She takes her limo while I take the bus, but such is the nature of our relationship.

(Thursday)

Last night I woke up to see Gloria standing over my own bed. She put a finger to my lips before I could ask if she wanted anything. I think she misses me as much as I miss her but our issues of how much she can trust me, and how much I can trust myself around her, are still vast. She leaves after five minutes. I make her a thin porridge for breakfast that she keeps down but we make our way to work in our own way.

Before lunch I get a call from Security -- never a good thing. It seems there is a man at the front desk who wants to see me but he doesn't have an appointment and only identifies himself as an old neighborhood friend. Hardly anyone from my old neighborhood would be considered a friend but the list of the ones who know where I work is even smaller. I tell Sadri I'm going to down to see what the story is. 

I imagine the guards are a bit shocked to see me race up and hug the guy they've been keeping an eye on. Mainly that is because he looks like some bad-ass drug dealing low life, which he is.

"Jericho, buddy, how have you been?" I greet the man who saved my life from some knife-wielding assailant.

"Stop hugging me Eddie before they think we are gay," he grunts but I'm sure he's not angry.

"I'm sure whether or not you are going to ass-rape somebody isn't at the top of their concern," I joke and nod toward the security guards. "What brings you to the part of town where all the criminals have teams of lawyers?"

Jericho looks down at the ground for an instant.

"I've got a problem," he starts. "Remember Roberto, that guy I kind of worked for? Well he ended up dead."

"Oh crap. I'm sorry dude. What do you need?" is my response.

"I need a place to hide out for a few days," he requests.

"How much trouble are you in?" I worry.

"Well...Roberto died because I put three bullets in his chest," Jericho confesses. "His two brothers are obviously pissed and want me dead, but I swear I can clean this up in a few days."

"My girl and I are in a rough spot," I sort of tell the truth, "but I might have someone who can help." Jericho seems skeptical but he's also desperate. Roberto's brothers are probably beating down doors in our old neighborhood trying to kill him.

"Sadri, can you come down to the front lobby," I say her over the phone. "I have a favor to ask you."

Sadri comes down, sees who I am talking to and looks to make sure Security is close by. She hesitantly takes the last few steps.

"Eddie..." she questions.

"Sadri, this is my friend Jericho and he's got a problem," I start out. 

"He needs a place to hide out for a couple of days. Since almost nobody back in the old neighborhood knows me and they have no clue as to who you are I was hoping you would do this awesomely huge favor and let him crash on your sofa for a few days," I beg. In retrospect I'm not the best friend in the world; I might even be considered high maintenance. 

"Jericho, you seem like a...nice guy, but are the guys who come knocking on my door going to have badges and guns, or are they going to have guns and more guns?" Sadri says skeptically.

"Most likely guns with guns," Jericho admits, "but how would they find me? Hell, I saved Eddie's life and we'd talked for months but I didn't know his last name until this chick rolled up in a sweet ride and asked for Mr. Duarte; then I figured it out."

"Older lady, dark, dark eyes with great tits and the look of an ex-porn star," Sadri smirks.

Jericho looks somewhat put off his game for a second.

"Well, she was way out of Eddie's league, if that is what you mean?" Jericho guesses.

"Yes, she's the one. Well Jericho, your resume sucks, you only have Eddie as your highly questionable character reference and you most likely have never filed your income tax," Sadri rambles, "but what the hell. You can use Eddie's key and I'll give you the address."

"Eddie, you've hooked me up your drug-dealer friend who is clearly on the run from some damn dangerous people. You owe me a lot more than one -- in fact, I'll let you when your grandkids have paid this one off, do we understand one another?" Sidra glares at me.

"Gotchya Sid," I sigh. She gives her address to Jericho then she glides off. 

"Brother, if that is how your co-worker treats you, I hate to think how your old lady does," Jericho chuckles.

"My lady's a ball of fire alright. We have literally come right off of a big fight and I'm trying to make things work and any stressor could be devastating," I confess.

"Thanks Bro," we bump fists, "I swear I'll be done in three or four days and that will be that. You'll never see me again."

"Jericho, I'd have a jig-saw face or no face at all if you hadn't come running," I point out. "You need something anytime, anywhere, you let me know." Jericho nods, departs, and leaves me to deal with the security types. 

(Saturday)

"You are making a big deal out of what is essentially hot dogs and stir-fry," Gloria taunts me over my choice for dinner.

"It is kielbasa with Greek kabobs," I sigh with patience. "Besides, you love garlic and since we aren't 'doing' anything tonight, I figured you wouldn't mind."

"Who says you aren't getting anything tonight," she looks my way.

"Am I getting something tonight?" I perk up.

"No, but I want you to keep thinking you might," she states haughtily. "Your suspense is pleasurable to me."

"Gee-whiz, another happy night of internet porn," I groan.

"Eddie, you had better not being doing that on your home computer and since you can't have porn on your work computer I have to assume you are trying and failing to get under my skin," Gloria lectures me.

"A ghost directory and a flash drive," I tease back. She arches an eyebrow but her retort is interrupted by a knock at the door.

"Are you expecting someone?" Gloria asks with un-barbed curiosity. I shake my head so she gets up and goes to see who it is.

"Ms. Gupta?" Gloria greets the visitor.

"I..." Sadri stammers, "Could I talk to Mr. Duarte for a minute?"

"Of course," Gloria sounds a bit forced and brittle, "come in. Eddie is in the kitchen. I'll go spot him so that dinner doesn't burn and let the two of you talk."

"Umm...Mrs. Hardison, you might want to be here for this," Sadri gets out.

"This sounds interesting Ms. Gupta," Gloria stays stiffly as if 'interesting' implies getting a nail driven into her foot.

"You can call me Sadri," Sadri gets out in a hurry.

"Interesting; you may call me Mrs. Hardison," Gloria responds coolly. She moved directly to the kitchen as I am turning down all the relevant heating surfaces and join her on our return trip.

"Hey Sadri," I greet my co-worker and kiss her on the cheek. "What's wrong?"

"Your buddy came by with his girlfriend and their kid and by kid I mean one of those rug rats that wear diapers," Sadri blames me. I can feel Gloria's eyes bore into me, not out of jealousy but out of some dark amusement at my predicament.

"I...uh...I'll go over there and tell Jericho that he's got to go," I rapidly think up a plan. "I'll get him a motel room somewhere for a few days."

"Eddie, there are a few problems with your little plan," Sadri smirks. "You don't have that much money, your buddy isn't at a motel right now for the same reason you can't put him in one later tonight and there is the problem that he's nineteen and his girlfriend is somewhat younger; how much younger we shouldn't get into."

"Eddie, why am I only now hearing about this crisis in your life?" Gloria sounds a bit peeved.

"It was a private matter I tried to deal without worrying you," I turn and tell Gloria.

"When you chose to involve Ms. Gupta it became a work-related matter," Gloria snaps back.

"Shove it, Hardison," Sadri growls. "Assume that we have lives outside of your hellish gulag."

Oh yeah, that made the conversation so much better. The two women glare at one another.

"This conversation is for another time," I interject. "Sadri lets go back to your place and we'll figure some other people who can help."

"Eddie you aren't going anywhere right now," Gloria commands. "It has it taken you less than one week to forget your obligations; truly pathetic."

I take a deep breath before facing her because that was uncalled for and disrespectful as well as degrading in front of company.

"This is the guy who came running up the block and into the alley to drive off the psycho who was trying to carve me up with a knife," I try to keep my anger down. "Why in the hell was he trying to kill me again? Oh, I remember; do you?" 

Jericho had left his comfortable drug dealing location because he saw me running for my life from some bastard who was much bigger than me. He'd arrived just in time to fire off a warning shot and drive my attacker away. The attacker was the same guy who nearly raped Gloria the first night Gloria and I met outside the office and he'd worked for Joyce Cook, a corporate enemy.

"Wait," Gloria holds firm. "You still should think this through."

"We need to get the drug dealer, his squeeze and her brat out of my apartment," Sadri points out.

"You have already pointed out why that is not feasible, Ms. Gupta," Gloria lectures which doesn't do Sadri's mood any good.

"Hey, I'm doing Eddie a favor here. It isn't like he rewards me with sex in order to get things done," Sadri taunts Gloria.

"I don't offer him sex and he still does what I want him to," Gloria counters.

"This bitchiness is counter-productive; let's find a way fix this instead," I remind the women even as I separate them. I love Gloria and really like Sadri as a friend and letting them work out their mutual anger issues won't help anything right now.

"Sadri stays with us until this blows over," Gloria insists with her normal aggressive clarity. "I will take her to her apartment; we will pack up a few of her belongings and return to our home. Eddie, you will have dinner ready when we get back."

"Hey...wait, do I have a say in this?" Sadri asks. She doesn't know Gloria like I do.

"If you have a better resolution to the problem I am willing to listen," is Gloria's response. Putting Sadri in a hotel is an option but that doesn't do anything to balance my debt to Sadri, or so I think Gloria reasons.

"Fine," Sadri concedes, "where would I sleep?"

"You can use Eddie's bedroom," my girl informs Sadri. Seeing my poorly hidden hope, she adds, "Eddie will sleep on the sofa in the study." Sadri shoots me a curious look.

"Don't sweat it," I sigh to Sadri. "We aren't sharing the same bed right now anyway." Sadri looks from me to Gloria.

"Well, that's a pity," she snorts. "Living with someone like Hardison and not hitting that on a nightly basis is a tragedy. It has to screw with his work performance too," Sadri grins at Gloria.

Gloria chokes and I try to not laugh. The 'screw with his job performance' was a nice touch; Gloria obsesses on productivity.

"Do not assume that while I am resolving this matter we have any sort of relationship outside of work whatsoever," Gloria simmers. "It certainly does not allow this level of familiarity."

"We won't have to worry about that because, Gloria, you are staying here," I demand. "It is dangerous...which is why Sadri is staying as well. I'll go alone and pick up whatever Sadri needs."

"You are not rummaging through my drawers," Sadri shakes her head.

"I have no desire to eat burnt food," Gloria countermands, "and since I have no idea how well, or poorly, Ms. Gupta cooks that task remains firmly in your hands. If there was any doubt, this discussion is now over. Ms. Gupta, we'll take my car."




Mrs. Hardison Ch. 06



"That's fine by me since I arrived by taxi," Sadri mocks me with her smirk. I mollify myself that Sadri's place should be a perfectly safe place for both of them. I also am reminded that I'm hardly a martial hero, so forcing myself to go along with the ladies would be pointless. Lastly, Gloria is right; Gloria is lethal to anything that involves a stove and I've never known Sadri to cook outside of a microwave.

An hour later they both return safely and dinner is ready. We are elbow to elbow around the kitchen table. I almost try the 'kiss the cook' line but falter. Instead we eat in silence.

"Great eats like always Eddie," Sadri thanks me. "I'm going to miss your home cooking."

"You supplied your grandmother's recipes and ingredients; I provided the muscle power," I smile.

"I'll get the dishes," Gloria states in a clipped tone.

"I'll help," I offer.

"I don't need your help," Gloria replies dismissively. Sadri snorts in disgust, pushes away from the table and walks out.

"Gloria..." I sigh.

"There is a strange woman in my house and before you say 'but you invited her', please recall that she is at my doorstep because of a decision you made," Gloria regards me icily. 

"You are right; I apologize for the inconvenience," I look down at my feet. "I will have a solution by tomorrow." I am not going to get in a fight over her discomfort right now. She's pissed for a number of reasons and it is going to take time for me to deal with each one.

I hear Sadri cut the TV on so I migrate out there to try and put my mind somewhere else than here. Behind me I hear the water come on in the sink. Two minutes into channel surfing Sadri stands up.

"I'm going to get something to drink," she tells me. "Can I get you anything?"

"No," respond softly. I need to bury my head in a pillow and get some sleep so I can figure a way out of this cluster-fuck. Sadri goes into the kitchen, opens the refrigerator and get something out.

"Gloria..." Sadri starts. I hope I don't regret eavesdropping.

"Mrs. Hardison," Gloria corrects her.

"Mrs. Hardison, show some damn mercy," Sadri growls.

"It is not your place to speak on this matter unless you are confessing to me you have some affection toward Eddie," Gloria reposes. 

"I'm not saying I wouldn't mind developing something with Eddie," Sadri admits, "but he's more of a fixer-upper boyfriend than someone who sweeps you off your feet. It doesn't matter because he's crazy-mad for you and no one else."

"I do not recall asking your assessment of Eddie's relationship with me," Gloria states.

"What do you have on him?" I can hear Sadri's anger rise. "As horrible person as you are, as kind as Eddie is; I can't understand how Eddie isn't staring down the bottom of a bottle as cruelly as you've been treating him. Show an ounce of human compassion and let him go." The dishwashing stops and I have little doubt Gloria has turned to face Sadri.

"What we have together is not your concern," Gloria growls. "I certainly didn't hold anything over his head when he chose a relationship with me. I tried to drive him away but he wouldn't accept my insistence...sort of like you."

"Young, vital people go after things they want and aren't easily discouraged," Sadri remarks snidely. "Only when you get...older...do you become more bitter and vindictive."

Yeah, bringing up the age difference is not going to help either Sadri or me.

"He is free to leave whenever he likes," Gloria bristles, which is the problem...she thinks I can leave her at a moment's notice. That terrifies her with a child on the way.

"Seriously expect me to believe that? You have the emotional warmth of a hedgehog and the sex can't be that good with a brittle, corrosive ice queen like you," Sadri taunts.

"I've never had him complain," Gloria snarls.

"I bet you haven't," Sadri's tone shifted to warmth and compassion. "He's crazy for you Gloria and I'm not running a game on you. He loves you, you occasionally make him happy and I'm pretty sure he took a stabbing and a bullet for you. Yes, he's a fuck-up on occasion but you are never going to find that level of devotion to you, body and soul, for as long as you live."

"Mrs. Hardison," Gloria responds but she knows she's been out maneuvered. Sadri is manipulating Gloria on my behalf...which is why she lured Gloria to Sadri's place to support her story then lets her challenge Gloria's and my relationship.

"Mrs. Hardison, one day some manipulative bitch is going to trick him and pry him away using his pain you cause him," Sadri continues. "He'll hate himself when he wakes up but that won't do either of you any good."

"If he's going to betray me, why would I want him in my life?" Gloria inquires.

"Ummm...in my experience and that of my Mother, it is up to women to keep the men in line," Sadri sighs in an exasperated manner.

"Maybe in India," Gloria shakes her head (I imagine), "but not here."

"Mrs. Hardison, can you really imagine Eddie taking care of himself? He's a sweet guy and he means well...and apparently he's an excellent lover but do you think what a disaster his life would be without you?" Sadri prods.

"Eddie is quite capable, as are you, Ms. Gupta and it is not lost on me that you two make a great team," Gloria notes. "It is also not lost on me that my people are more productive when they work with Eddie."

"Eddie receives five times as many e-mails and tweets than I do," Sadri chuckles. "People are always asking him for favors and he always tries his hardest to help. The trade off to his immediate loss of productivity is that Eddie gets other workers to help him out when he needs it. He is really a good guy and I'm not alone in thinking that. Give him another chance."

"Ms. Gupta...Sadri, do you really believe I wasn't aware of Eddie's potential when I gave him this project?" Gloria informs her. "His lack of punctuality and his laze faire attitude toward his work environment were major stumbling blocks for me to deal with but when I looked to his finer qualities I...I learned to trust him with things he was good at."

"Does he trust you?" Sadri asked softly, realizing a crucial moment was upon us all.

"It isn't that simple," Gloria states, then, "why do you feel the need to talk about this with me? I would think that you would want to deepen the rift between Eddie and me so you could have him for your own."

"There is no chance of that Mrs. Hardison," Sadri says, "As I said, he's madly in love with you. If all I can be is his friend, I'm going to be the best friend I can be for him."

"Very well; tonight and tomorrow Gloria will suffice," my girl allows. "Why are you talking about this anyway?"

"Do you have any lady friends -- sisters, a mother, women you know from college - if they haven't gone extinct with the rest of the dinosaurs?" Sadri teases. By the silence I can tell Gloria is teetering on rejecting this whole advancement.

"Eddie made the same erroneous assumption," Gloria muses. "I have never needed friends; I have the job...and now Eddie, but I imagine you are referring to someone I can talk over 'women's issues' with. The answer is: no, I don't."

"I would rather put my hand in a bag filled with rabid rats and the spiciest curry than befriend you Gloria," Sadri taunts, "but I know that if Eddie gets mopey at work I'll have to pick up his slack."

"He'll accomplish his task no matter what," Gloria counters, "He never lets..." she doesn't finish the sentence. She was about to say 'he never lets me down' and she knows it.

"What I am trying to say is that, to me, Eddie is worth bathing in your abrasive as all-crap personality -- if you are willing to put up with my clever irreverence," Sadri smiles.

"Your insubordinate attitude was holding you back and it was only Eddie's charm that made me assign you to him. You are one of the best in the field in software but most of your previous co-workers were very unimpressed with your cooperative skill sets," Gloria reposes.

"I think we can both agree that neither one of us would help the other off the train tracks if Eddie wasn't around, but will you bend a bit to stop dropping all your pent-up emotional baggage on him alone?" Sadri keeps going. "Trust me, when you mention 'spotting' or cramps that hundredth time he's bailing out the window. He's a man; it is how they keep sane."

Gloria remains quiet as Sadri gets the longest drink of water in the history of kitchenettes everywhere. 

"I would be remiss to disregard your proposal on strictly emotional grounds," Gloria accepts being outmaneuvered a tad more graciously than expected. I would almost swear she's trying to make me happy. After that, the rest of the evening is gravy.

(Around Midnight)

I wake up to find her standing over me. Gloria has waited for me to stir so she can sit down at my hip. She ghostly glides down, her silky, mid-calf robe parting to reveal everything up to her thigh right below the panty line. She is working something over desperately in her mind.

"Eddie, if I asked -- asked you -- to leave me would you?" she manages to say once she's re-established eye contact. 

I have to sit up until our faces are only inches apart. I want to growl at her that I'll never leave her but that is something my soul rebels against. It is something you can't explain to someone who hasn't been in love. My eyes tear up; one rivets down my left and one follows another down the right. I hate it; not because of the macho factor but because I want to be strong for Gloria.

"Yes," I say with a far steadier voice than I imagine I could muster.

"Why?" she comes right at me before I can recover. I don't have time to think of the 'perfect' words that will make this alright.

"I love you. I love you so much that I want to do whatever it takes to make you happy," I relate.

"What of our child?" she continues barely above a whisper.

"What life is our child going to have if I make you unhappy Gloria? I will figure out some way to touch their life," I sigh, "but your happiness always comes first."

"How do you justify..." she lets hang out there. That memory -- that desk -- making her go back to that place in her mind where she was raped.

"You were taking our child because you were afraid of what I represented and you weren't giving me a chance to be a true mate for you. I am not 'that guy'," by which I meant her old boss, Mr. Vance, "or your former husband who didn't try to understand you when you were in trouble. I'm Eddie Duarte, I'm not the best guy who has ever walked the planet but I think I'm the best man for you and I'll do whatever you want if it is only for you and our child."

"You look positively miserable," Gloria has this haunted look but still manages a slip of a smile aimed my way.

"That would be reality crashing in on me," I confide in her. "It is one thing to say 'I love you' but another to think I'll next see you in the Delivery Room." Gloria blinks then nods.

"That won't be a problem Eddie," she murmurs, "unless you get lost in the parking lot."

We hug each other and I can't imagine she's ever felt better in my arms.

"Gloria?"

"Yes Eddie," she starts nibbling my neck just above my shirt collar.

"You had better tell the onboard navigation system where to go because I have no idea how I got to the last hospital I was in and the one previous to that rated emergency room service on the caliber of your gunshot wound," I tease. She pulls back far enough to thump my forehead with her forefinger.

"Would it kill you to allow me one romantic moment Eddie," she looks longingly at me. I just hug her gently and keep quiet. I let her set the tempo as she hugs me back and kiss the other side of my neck. I rubbed circles over her robe and short back nightgown with this lacy pink trim. Gloria slowly bares me down on the sofa, her legs straddling my body as Gloria unties her sash.

"Please," Sadri yawned from the entranceway, "go upstairs. Watching sofa-sex was painful enough in college -- you two need to grow up." Gloria shoots up and glares at the intruder. "Honestly Gloria, when a girl sneaks downstairs to where a guy is trying to sleep, it rarely ends in a poetry reading," Sadri yawns again.

"We were not going to have sex," Gloria insists.

"Sure," Sadri sighs, "but would you two go up to your room, or he can go to my room, but I'm going to stay on the sofa because I'd like to get some sleep tonight and I'm terrified one of you is a screamer."

"Sadri..." Gloria begins to growl.

"Stop Gloria," I sit up, "we are going upstairs and going to bed. I've missed you -- am I clear?"

Gloria turns on me and tries to formulate an angry reply but I stop her with a deep kiss and deftly grab her right hand and use it to stroke the bulge in my pajama bottoms. "I want you," I whisper, "in case there was ever a doubt."

"Eddie, you are very crude," Gloria purrs, protesting but far from angry.

I am maneuvering my lady around both the sofa and Sadri when my work-partner speaks.

"Congratulations Gloria and Eddie," she teases.

"What are you...?" Gloria recovers flawlessly.

"You have cotton balls on top of your tampons Gloria," Sadri announces decisively and with the tension that rolls through Gloria, Sadri's evidence is incontrovertible. "I was looking for your rubbing alcohol and there it was -- so why wasn't my buddy wearing a raincoat?"

"We are not having this discussion," I tell Sadri but I give her a wink as I lead Gloria past and toward the stairs. 

Gloria does a quick glance then sprints for the top with me grabbing her waist as we round the turn at the stop of the stairs -- she's tired and I'm horny. By the look Sadri gives me, she's both disturbed and aroused. She likes me but this is the woman she hatefully calls The Bitch and Gloria's acting like a sex kitten -- the inexperienced mind boggles.

The final rush to the bed is a twist of hands running over one another's bodies, her robe slipping to the floor and my shirt being violently yanked off over my head. Gloria tumbles back on the bed looking terribly hungry for me and I...hesitate. I hover there, worried and uncertain. Gloria's eyes follow mine and came to rest on her form, with a tiny bit more weight. She wonders if that turns me off but it turns out she knows me better than my words can express.

"I'm not porcelain Eddie," Gloria gives a deep, throaty laugh. "You can jump on me and the baby will be just fine." With obvious relief, I fall on her, kissing and sighing with relief while she wriggles beneath me. As normal, we struggle to determine who will be on top. I announce that she has a 'baby handicap'. She laughs, fails to deny it then uses it against me to seize her cowgirl status.

"I am on top," she trumpets. "You had better get used to the view." The look on my face must be priceless because Gloria becomes all misty-eyed as she pulls off her slip-like nightgown and tosses it somewhere near the head of the bed -- those magnificent breasts, already swelling up with milk, or so it seems. She leans down and dangles them each in turn into my slurping mouth.

"You are so very hungry tonight Eddie," Gloria moans. She becomes even more excited when after much wandering; I slip both hands under her panties and grips two handfuls off ass. Gloria playfully grinds against my pj bottoms as my hands go lower. When my handholds feel difficult, she pushes herself up my body. Her tight, pointy nipples now brush my eyes but I can circle two fingers of my left hand around her anus and rub three from my right hand along her swollen, drenched lips.

"Clothes," Gloria whispers and like a well-oiled machine, I scoot to my right and the foot of the bed while Gloria rolls onto her side to my left. Her panties languidly descended down her smooth thighs, calves, ankles and finally the feet. My bottoms fly off my body as if they are on fire. Gloria's eyes light up and laugh at me, but it is a playful flame of heat, hunger and warmth and she holds no condemnation for my wild desire for her.

I knee-walk up the bed towards her as Gloria twists her body until her head is almost on a pillow. I grab her left knee and push it onto the bed then place a hand to do the same to her right thigh.

"No you don't," Gloria challenges me. "I am doing more than watching you make me writhe and orgasm on this bed while you have all the fun. Come up here." I opt for a compromise because I feel parched without her juices on my tongue and going down my throat.

I start moving and by the way Gloria is soon running her hands down my ribs to my waist and finally grasping my buttocks before taking the top of my cock into her sweet lips and steamy mouth. I am busy fulfilling my promise to slake my thirst. By the sounds of Gloria's labored breathing, I am making her terribly happy too. With Gloria though, it is never as easy as it should be.

"Eddie -- mmph -- mmph -- what do you think about a limited time window -- mmm -- mmph -- for internet porn at work? What would it do for productivity?" Gloria mouths her thoughts around her fellatio technique.

"Mmmm -- slurp, slurp -- I think having a -- lap, lap, lap, slurp -- free internet Thursdays -- yum-yum, lap -- give each section a thirty -- slurp, tongue-waggle -- minute window and we can ramp up -- slurp -- mmmm -- security and create a -- mmm, lap, lap, slurp -- blind data engine to keep track of the sites -- yum, slurp, lap, lap -- but keep the identity's of the users safe," I gasp out before returning to work.

We are getting a good rhythm where one of us is vitally active while the other keeps their partner's sex humming along. I feel good about getting her to climax first; she's come so far since that first awkward time but I'm still an inch more comfortable with my sexuality. I hear that as a woman advances in her pregnancy she becomes more sexually aggressive and demanding; I'm in trouble.

She surprises me by pinching off the base of my penis before I can ejaculate. She goes back to a strict hand job that gets my attention.

"This does not count as working lunch though I am giving serious consideration to your suggestion," Gloria smiles wickedly.

"Wait -- did you just make a work-related joke?" I babble. Gloria doesn't answer; she doesn't have to.

"You don't think I can add levity to our relationship?" Gloria studies me seriously. She shows me how seriously when she bares her teeth and puts my cockhead between the upper and lower set. I am not in pain -- yet.

"You are a laugh riot," I stammer -- the wrong thing to say as those teeth bite down painfully. "I only want to make you feel as wonderful as you make me," I try next -- the right answer.

"I believe you Eddie," Gloria purrs, "now get up here and let me give you your reward." I let Gloria set me where she wants because I'm on my back with several pillows propping up my head and shoulders. I'm thinking a low, gentle ride with her breast in my mouth once more. The moment she pours the thick oil on my penis I know what Gloria's plan is. 

It shouldn't be a surprise, she can masturbate but since she's uncomfortable with sexual toys, she won't engage with anal stimulation. That is something she enjoyed when she was back in college and she had rediscovered that joy with me, despite my own inexperience. I am still rather indifferent about anal plundering because Gloria's womb felt so good to me but I am more than happy to do the things that make Gloria glow. Of course I'm still a young man.

"We are not going to -- you know -- I don't want to hit his head or something like that," I worry.

"Stop!" Gloria demands, "You are not a doctor or even a life science major. I talk to the OBGYN and -- next time Eddie you can come with me," she suddenly inserts. Maybe she's worked this shared responsibility in her head and maybe this is the hormones talking. "I have actually asked what acts and positions are allowed and the best."




Mrs. Hardison Ch. 06



"That's rather bold for you," I muse.

"Eddie," Gloria sighs in exasperation, "she already knows I am having a child out of wedlock; she's seen the stretching of my anus so I feel I can talk to her about sexual matters in clinical manner."

"I'd be happy to go with you and see my son, Paul the firefighter," I nod. Gloria mounts me revere-cowgirl, her thighs throbbing as she uses one hand on my stomach to balance with while the other places my cockhead against her anus; her rather tight anus -- no prep or anything.

"Our daughter, Sara Marie, the astronaut, concert pianist, award-winning author and renowned criminologist will be fine on the first ultrasound," Gloria lays down the genetic law.

"No press -" I gasp as her sphincter gives way and lead elements of my cock enter her snug heated rectum. The liberal coating of lube helps somewhat, "- pressure G. I just want our kid to run into burning buildings. You want them to live without sleep or a social life."

"You achieve great -- ness," she slips and over two inches is forced down her shaft. "Comes from discipline and hard study -- but we will create some options for our child because I will not discount the happiness -- oh yeah -- yessss -- you bring me."

If I didn't have most of my dick up my girlfriend's behind I'd do a handstand with sparklers between my toes. Gloria just admitted that happiness is a deciding factor -- in our child's life and in ours. Sure, I'm promising to do childhood ballet, music lessons and gymnastics but we are also making play-dates and kid's movies and maybe regular family walk in the park.

"Eddie," Gloria exhales deeply, "that's fantastic! Whatever has inspired 'my' cock, keep it up and get to pounding me Honey." I obey. This is definitely one of those times I obey and I do so with thunderous stamina. She's slowly toppling back onto my chest. I tilt my hips up and bring my hands around to her breasts. I'm pushing my dick up her asshole using my legs, hips and abdominal muscles. 

Gloria is driven breathless each time my rod hammers to her greatest depths. I'm pulling her nipples up and she is giving weak squeals for over a minute before she strokes my arm.

"That is a little too much," she wheezes. I start massaging the weight of her mammary instead of abusing the nipples and slow my pace of drilling her ass. She nods her thanks.

We slowly build up my action until she starts twitching then, "Yes, yes, Yes!" and she climaxes. The tightening of her rectal muscles has me flooding her ass with my seed. Gloria rolls onto the center of the bed and I stay with her, my cock still up her butt and that makes her sigh contentedly. She lets her tension bleed off and I know she's lost in thought.

"What's up Love?" I inquire softly.

"I'm thinking about our future," she whispers, "about you and me then you, me and our child."

"Do you want there to be a serious 'us'?" I ask.

"Yes," she struggles to confess.

"I know we have only just saved ourselves from destruction, and I've said it before, but Gloria Hardison, would you marry me, for better and worse, forever and ever," I throw myself out there. I'm persistent if not overly bright.

"Let me think about it," she responds, but she reaches back with her free left hand and strokes me from waist to thigh. "I always factored in happiness in the workplace Mr. Duarte. I could count the percentages that happy workers produced over neutral or unhappy workers. I never considered the tangible aspects before I met you -- and I've been refusing to look that way ever since."

"But Eddie, you had a friend risk his own well-being on your behalf and then you paid him back, despite the risk to us," Gloria is currently trying to put her thoughts in order.

"Then you got Sadri to come over tonight..." she continues.

"Honestly," I swore to Gloria, "I didn't put her up to this."

"I know you would never ask her to fight your battles, but I know if she's late, or leaves early, or flirts with a co-worker, you will cover her and she knows it," Gloria forgives my interruption. "You would never ask her and that is why she felt obligated to help you on her own."

"Please don't hold it against her," I request.

"That will not be a problem," Gloria muses. "I doubt we will be close friends Eddie but she is more symptomatic of your charisma as well as your influence in the company. You are liked Eddie but more important to me Eddie, you have always been reliable to your co-workers and that is the difference between a friend inviting you to a wedding and a co-worker giving you privileged access or making your requests a priority when they shouldn't. Everyone knows you will pay them back."

"You said it best," she looks over her shoulder at me, "I can't expect you to be reliable to me and not be reliable to them. I have to expect you will do your best and from time to time you will let me down because," she a pause for a long time, "you may not be the best man but you are the best man for me." I hug her tightly and kiss the back of her neck along the hair-line.

"I'll marry you Mr. Duarte but with some conditions," Gloria snuggles into me. I have to bite down on a comedic but highly inappropriate comeback.

"We will get married after our child is born -- your name will be on all the appropriate documents, so don't worry," she tells me. "I don't want us to rush into marriage and four months is just not long enough to do this right."

"I will not take your last name; I've done this once and I don't want to do it again," she explains, "Our child will have your name but hold the option to take a hyphenated last name when they become older. Are you okay with this?"

"I'll have to consider this Mrs. Duarte-Hardison," I tease. She elbows me.

"That is not part of the deal buddy," she mock-protests, "and it would be 'Duarte-Belmont' based on my maiden name."

"Hell, I like the sound of that," I nod confidently. "Maybe I'll take that -- I'm serious."

"Really," she twists so much my cock flops out of her ass finally spent. "I will consider it as well because I like the sound of it too," she yawns. "Let's get under the covers and sleep. If not, Ms. Gupta -- Sadri, will really think we had sex and I don't need the teasing."

"Trust me Gloria, she knows. Sadri acts like a Boar, sneaks like a Tiger and enjoys her luxuries like a Dragon. A few minutes after we came up she returned to her room," I sigh. "She's heard everything."

"No," Gloria whispers fearfully because she is normally so private and likes a wall to exist between her person and her employees.

"If you don't believe me, make a little pig snorting noise at breakfast tomorrow and watch her hit me," I whisper as quietly as I can into Gloria's ear. After a moment, Gloria agrees to the test. We snuggle under the covers and my exhausted love is asleep inside a minute. I stay up for a few minutes longer praying to God this isn't some fevered dream of mine.

Gloria spun our relationship out of control and I drove it off a cliff, but we pulled our way back together. There is a lesson in there somewhere. Right now I have her in my arms so I'll think about that means in the morning.