"Is there any place to lie down?" Ilysa was alone in the warehouse with Mike and Joe. Even though she spoke softly, her voice echoed in the cavernous building.
Kaytee had called earlier in the week. "Mike and Joe will be the only two working third shift in the warehouse on Thursday. I'd suggest that you use that day to make good on your promise."
Though she had no other plans for Thursday night, she felt an emptiness in her gut as she thought of spending the best part of the night allowing two strangers to use her.
"What should I wear," she asked quietly giving in to the inevitability of her promise. "Are jeans OK?"
"Oh, no. You are to be something special, a forbidden bon bon in their humdrum lives. Wear a nice suit. They'll treat you and your clothes with care. Have on lacy underwear, but nothing slutty. You should look like a professional woman right down to your neatly trimmed bush."
She paused, then, as an afterthought she added, "I'll send you a letter on our letterhead for you to have if you need more than your good looks to get past the guard. I'll also send out a note to them that you'll be by to 'inspect' the trailer loading."
It was nearing half past twelve when Ilysa pulled up at the security gate. The guard looked with open surprise at the BMW convertible and its occupant. Typically he saw no one this time of night yet here was a lovely blond, impeccably dressed driving a fancy car. "Yes ma'am," he said straightening his uniform. His tongue was frantically trying to remove remnants of his dinner from his teeth.
"Mike, uh. Oh, forgive me," she said reading from a letter written on NexGen Plastics letterhead. "Mr. Roberts didn't give me his last name." She was frowning severely as though chastising Mr. Roberts for his oversight.
"Everyone just calls him Mike," the guard tried to smile at the obviously upset lady. "You don't need his last name, but if you want to write it down, it's Blum, B-L-U-M. Actually," he continued hoping to add another second or so of conversation with the lovely lady, "we just call them Mike and Joe. They're friends who have been working here forever. You hardly ever see one without the other. Mike is Mike Blum, like I said," his eyes no longer made contact with hers. She'd been a little puzzled at what seemed to be an overload of information spewing from the guard.
She was tired at this time of night. Bed was the proper place for a person in the middle of the night and that's where she wanted to be right now. In bed, alone, asleep, was all she was really thinking of, but she tried to pay attention to the guard who continued to speak looking not at her blue eyes, but . . . ah, yes, she had left a few buttons open for Mike and Joe. From where the guard was positioned eight feet off the ground to be able to speak to the truckers in their cabs, he could see straight down her blouse.
What the hell, she thought. She had been leaning away from him to be able to look upward at him. Now realizing the situation she leaned toward him. It improved his view immensely. His prattle became temporarily scrambled as Ilysa leaned left toward him and slightly forward. Unfortunately that was about it. There was nothing further she could do for the young guard. He could see her thighs and look down her blouse, but, short of undressing, that was all the view she could provide from her position in the car.
"Can you give 'Mike and Joe'," she continued the local joke, "a call and let them know I'm here so I don't have to track them down. They should be in the back loading one of our trailers."
"Sure," he said raising a walkie talkie. "Mike, Scott at the security gate, you've got a visitor," he said. He released the button and the ambient rumble of the warehouse air handlers could be heard. He lowered the walkie talkie. Nothing. He raised it again as though to speak.
"A gorgeous blond," came a voice.
The guard whirled around shielding the voice from Ilysa. "Jesus Christ," he whispered. "She can hear you."
Mike laughed, "You know any lady who doesn't want to be called gorgeous? Send her on through. Tell her to park right at the office door."
"Ten-four," the guard said. Returning to Ilysa he was blushing and sweating, though she could see neither. "He says to park by the office door. That's at this end of the building." He was pointing and explaining more than necessary enjoying the view.
"Thanks," Ilysa said finally and put the car into gear. She waved at the guard and he waved back. He sat down wondering if anyone would know if he masturbated. He opened his zipper.
Ilysa found the door with no problem. A garish orange light lit it from overhead. Concrete stairs lead up to the doorway. She parked near the base of the stairs. Certain she was being watched by "Mike and Joe" she took time to evaluate her makeup in her mirror, then alighted as gracefully and professionally as she could.
A loud screech accompanied the opening of the metal door. She looked up as one of the two men she knew as Mike and Joe stepped onto the landing. He waved, but did not look directly at her. Was that shyness? It was, she concluded. Then he hurried down the steps. "Wow," he said his eyes not on her breasts but on her car. "That's beautiful." The other one was on his heels.
Together they walked around the car. Gathering her confidence Ilysa stood proudly, professionally to the side. When they were opposite her examining the interior, she said, "After, uh, afterwards, maybe you would like to take it for a spin around the lot here." But let's get this 'other' over first, was going through her mind. "Maybe while I take a shower," she added.
As she spoke she unbuttoned her jacket. "Uh," Mike said gesturing in several directions. "There are cameras out here." She stopped and the three of them looked at each other. She took the lead. Reaching out her hand,
she said, "I'm Silvi Lundholm. We met briefly the other day." She wanted to add, when Kaytee and I were totally naked. "You can probably tell I'm Swedish." She added what she hoped would be a warm smile, but nerves were starting to overtake her.
Once inside the building she found herself in a forest of large boxes being loaded onto trailers which would be picked up Guaranteed Transport drivers in a few hours. Once or twice a week, depending on sales and manufacturing, three to four trailers would be loaded overnight. Guaranteed Freight would pick them up at five thirty in the morning to get a jump on traffic.
Mike shut down the idling fork lift. For a second they looked at her expectantly. Then, awkwardly one reached out his hand. He said, "I'm Mike, Mike Blum. This here's Joe, Joe Dobson." As they shook hands Ilysa thought, how odd to be introducing yourself and shaking hands just before . . . . How odd.
Joe nodded as he arranged a stack of boxes in a corner near a wall to the proper height. Ilysa remembered Kaytee bending over a stack of boxes about this height. She looked apprehensively at them as Joe moved another box to adjust the overall height of the stack. Breathing deeply, she slid off her heels. Joe seemed to be reappraising the height of the stack as Ilysa's height declined three inches. Satisfied, he straightened and waited.
"The cameras can't see us here," Mike said confidentially.
"I see," Ilysa replied. She looked at the two men who looked at her. They were pleasant looking men. Each had an expectant smile, but said nothing as they waited. She unbuttoned her jacket, took it off, and handed it to Joe. Joe folded it some and set it on an adjacent pile of boxes.
Other than the air handlers rumbling incessantly there was hardly another sound. She looked from face to face. The concrete floor was cold on her feet. She twisted her skirt around bringing the catch to her front. She held the skirt tightly, took another breath and released the catch. There was no other movement.
