Forward from the author -
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Benson Lachlann joined his boss, Elena Cushing, in sitting with his back against the cold window of her office. Both were still completely naked, basking in their post-coital bliss. She seemed in a daze, an unfocused look in her eyes as she stared blankly into the shadowy distance of her dark office. Clearly, she had some thoughts to mull over, and he didn't want to interrupt her process. He slipped his arm across her shoulder, propping her head up off the glass. She smiled gently at his attentions, while still idly playing with the slimy mix of fluids that coated her chest.
"Benson?" She finally piped up. Her eyes turned to him, fully regarding him with a concerned expression twisting her pretty features.
"Uh oh. That look can't mean good things. Tell me what you're thinking."
"I was wondering what it means, for a mistake to feel this good."
"Are you having regrets?"
"Yes and no. If I could go back in time to stop myself, I don't think I would. I wouldn't be able to deny myself this pleasure. But still, the fact remains that what we just did is ethically taboo. There could be fallout."
"Hey, my lips are sealed, remember?"
"I thank you for that. But the problem is that now the demon's been let out of her cage, she's not going to go away quietly to be put back in. Maybe we get away with it this time, but who's to say about the future?"
That was an interesting turn of phrase, given his proclivities as of late, but he made no comment to acknowledge that fact. "The future? You can't possibly be thinking about doing this again?"
"Well, maybe not
this
. Too messy... oh shit, we're going to have to tidy this all up before the cleaning staff comes in the morning. Fuck me in the ass, I
really
didn't think this through."
"In the
ass
, Elena? Does your sexual frustration know no bounds?"
His sarcastic quip earned him a playful slap across the chest. She coyly bit her lip at that thought being planted in her head, but she quickly shook her head forcefully to clear it. "Don't encourage me, because it should be abundantly clear that I don't think it does. Just another example in the long list of ways that your 'respectable' boss is totally screwed up. Wait, you said you resented me in the past. But did you at least respect me? Or did I just inadvertently help fuel some repressed revenge fantasy of yours?"
"It doesn't matter what I used to think. I dunno, I barely even knew the 'old' Elena that occupied my head. Just the barest of a hate-sink for leading me into what I felt was a dead-end job. But there were others that took the brunt of that more than the imaginary you. You dealt with the biggest one this morning. So, uh, thanks for that, I guess. I guess we still haven't properly talked about what went down, have we? Care to elaborate?"
"Yes, we do need to talk about that, don't we? But first things first, help me clean up?"
Benson groaned as he stood up, and held his hand out to help Elena to her feet. "So where do we start?"
"I think we should start with us, first. It'll be hard to clean all of this up if we just keep, err, dripping... everywhere." She blushed, sheepishly, which could be only faintly seen in the dimly moonlit corner of the room.
"You don't happen to keep towels in here, do you?"
"Why would I? This is a financial office, not a personal gym. Just another unplanned way my stupid horny self screwed us over. I think we'll just have to make our way down to the shower room, and hope that nobody else decided to wander in after-hours like you did." She opened her desk draw, procuring a box of tissues. "Just do your best to dry yourself with these before we get there."
That task proved particularly daunting. A quarter box of soiled tissues later, and they were nowhere close to being passably clean. The flimsy things practically disintegrated in the presence of that much of their combined slop. So much sweat, a healthy amount of his semen, and Elena's releases had been... enthusiastic."This isn't working. We'll just have to bite the bullet and use our clothes. Maybe our shirts or something? We'll still need to cover up, because they'll definitely be keeping a close watch on the security footage, after this morning's incident."
Her eyes bulged. She hadn't even considered that. "I'm glad one of us still has their head squarely on their shoulders. I was just thinking of making a mad dash for it. Somebody out there certainly would've gotten a heaping dose of wet-dream fuel." Her eyes dropped to regard her own shapely body, and she blushed.
She retrieved her blouse from the heap of clothing she had stashed under her desk -- during her bout of self-exploration she'd been engaged in before he'd surprised her -- and used it to towel herself off. Benson did the same with his T-shirt he had doffed, piled at the foot of her desk following her lust-fueled masturbation show. Both dressed hastily in their remaining clothes. She, in her tailored knee-length skirt and sharp business jacket, and he in his running shorts and a windbreaker.
Benson looked up to grab Elena's attention once it sounded like she had finished dressing, and was about to lead the way out the room, when the sight that met his eye gave him pause.
"My god, Elena! That's
some
look you've got going on, there! If it weren't so necessary to wrap things up, I'd be sorely tempted to throw you on the couch and have my way with you all over again. Just... damn."
She blushed even redder, as she stood there, almost demurely, in stark contrast to the wanton, sex-crazed animal she'd unleashed earlier. There wasn't much different from the way she typically dressed for the office. Except, the cut of her blazer, with cinched-in waist and a single button at the mid-section, was always paired with a sleek red blouse, buttoned all the way up to the neck, topped by her trademark silk scarf. Slightly sexy, to project confidence, but mostly only by virtue of who was wearing the figure-flattering outfit. Otherwise, perfectly conservative and business-like. But now, lacking the shirt, the steep V-cut of her jacket gaped to reveal an obscene amount of her milky, smooth, silicone-enhanced cleavage, with only the lacy edge of her bra interrupting the view.
"Y-you really like how this looks? It's not weird?"
How is she this clueless about how well her good looks would be received? Goddamn, her self-esteem is completely off-the-rails wrecked.
"Definitely a bit extreme for your older clientele, not to mention the dirty old men you choose to employ. But hey, if you're really serious about asserting more control, a
small
step in that direction might not hurt. Maybe it's that 'girlboss' energy you're truly after. Flaunt your sexuality just a little, to get your kicks -- enough to turn heads and command a room, but in the end, wow them with your brains."
The words made sense as he was saying them, but he somewhat wondered if those were simply his own growing tastes speaking for him. That was the image of Caeli that had ultimately settled in his mind. The concierge outfit she had chosen to wear for him was even
more
scant and provocative than the show he was currently getting from his boss -- more lingerie or fetish-wear than proper business attire. But the confidence she projected while wearing it had an empowering, amplifying effect for her persona. Despite how much of her luscious body she enjoyed displaying for him, he couldn't think of her as just some sex object.