Erotic Horror The Sweetest Darkness

Kristie Kane was working late again. She'd her head down over her desk with a frown putting lines on that pretty face of hers. It wasn't a frown of unhappiness she wore however, but instead one of deep concentration. She was getting her "work on" and she meant business! This was her daily hunt and she reveled in the thrill of the chase, (even if it consisted of all numbers and figures).

She looked up at her computer screen and then down to the papers to her right and tapped on her keyboard. There! She found the error. Things meant sense. The universe made sense again. She gave herself a pat on the back. She enjoyed little victories when she could get them.

She was all about keeping things orderly and organized. That was why she'd been hired by the folks at Praetorian Group. She was a good little organizer with her good little cup of coffee and her white bread sandwich and her predictably organized performance.

That was her problem. She was too predictable, too dependable. Such a good girl, doing good girl things all the time. Good and boring. Just ask her cat, Oreo. That black and white stray she'd taken in was the only thing with balls that had stayed with her.

Once a week she'd do dinner at her parents. In between listening to her father talk about himself or about how all her brothers and sisters were doing with their families, she had to endure her mother's passive-aggressive comments about how she was so proud of her "little girl" and how her little girl didn't need the validation of a man or children. The problem was, that bit of humiliation and condescension was really the only social interaction she had during a normal week. In at the office each work day at nine, out whenever she finished, five days a week; that was her routine, and the routine was her.

She'd been noticed for her diligence. That woman from Corporate had flown in for a few days and met with her late in the day during periodic reviews to discuss her report card. What was her name? ...Annette Bishop, yes that was it!

Yes, Annette from Corporate had seen at her record (and even nodded her head with approval). She'd scanned the accomplishments with her pretty brunette head down as if Kristie wasn't even in the room. Sucking on her pen and considering hard what she'd seen she'd finally broken the silence with,

"Impeccable... absolutely sterling performance, Kristie. I can clearly see all these late nights you put in are paying off handsomely,"

It was a compliment. It could have been a back-handed one. All these late nights were because Kristy had no one to go home to on two legs. There was just her four pawed occasional cuddle partner Oreo... but even he was there only when it was convenient for him. Asshole male.

As quickly as she'd said it, Annette made eye contact with her saying,

"Of course all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy. I suppose you are out a great deal in this city. You need to be - balance and all that, you know.

"Oh I get out here and there," Kristie fibbed, " its just that tonight I knew it was important to meet with you in the chance you'd be able to see me."

Annette saw the fib, but let it go. She'd seen Kristy's type before; in at work early, go home late. Kristie was one of the rowers keeping this company sailing, one tedious stroke at a time. Poor girl. Yes, she let it go with,

"Of course... naturally."

Yes, poor girl Kristie. When the meeting was over she went home to her cat Oreo and her empty flat to fix herself a frozen dinner and fall asleep in front of the television watching predictably unrealistic made-for-TV movie about impossibly pretty people in unbelievably mundane lives. It was one of those sappy escapist chick flicks that frumpy desperate women would watch so they could tell themselves they had HOPE. Then they would retire to bed with chocolate ice cream to rub their clit furiously and see the face of the film's leading man right before their eyes before drifting off to sleep.

The thing was, she'd not even made it to bed. So exhausted from being "the best little worker" at her small little corporate office park, (part of a huge non-caring conglomerate)... she fell asleep from the syrupy music and the equally sicky-sweet dialogue right there on her couch. When she awoke, the couple were kissing in a love scene. She opted to simply "take care of things right there and then," using the leading man's face as fuel to rub that bean of hers to.

Pushing Oreo aside, she handed him the soupy melted contents of pathetic bowl of ice cream so he'd leave her be as she jilled-off. Now that she'd taken care of the needs of one pussy, it was time to address the needs of the other. Sliding a hand beneath the elastic of her sweatpants, she got busy.

It was a good slow sleepy stroke-off she gave herself. She stared at the television screen. He had chin stubble, that guy on TV.

Good. She liked that. Very good in fact!

Her fingers splayed apart her shaven smooth twat taco; smooshing and tugging lightly at the outer lips just so. That felt nice. She stirred things around a bit, focusing upon the actor's face. OH NICE! She wondered what that strong chin would feel like rooting around at the top of her cleft. She'd love to bump her cleft against his cleft and find the fuck out!

Now it was time for the middle finger to earn its keep. She splayed things apart again a bit and found her hooded clitty. The man had just pulled back from the kiss and licked his lips. She saw his tongue-tip and imagined it wasn't her finger doing the tickling. Her hips rose to the occasion from the couch, pushing firmly against her hand.

She found the correct pace and commenced moving arm and fingers in self-abusive harmony; all while enjoying that handsome face with those five-o'clock-shadow cheekbones and all that curly black hair. A few minutes later and she wheezed and squeaked her way through a hand-humping gasp before enjoying her inner-release. She exhaled then drifted off to sleep, her rubbing one out and the film's sappy music haven taken their toll on her ability to stay awake.

She woke a short time later. The credits were rolling on the screen. She really needed to get to bed; it was late.

Switching off her TV, she moved five paces away to her futon in her tiny little apartment; Oreo presently joining her in a purring ball next to her rump. Eyes shut, Kristy Kay slipped into that lovely black pool of sleep, the sweet if only temporary darkness.
​

***​

But that was all but a few days ago in the recent past and now here she was, grinding away on another stack of numbers. She could have been home by now but no, she wanted to see this latest project completed and besides, Oreo would wait up for her. He'd even cuddle with her right up until she needed to rub one out to some of her chick porns or lame TV programs. He'd take it as his cue to move to the other side of the room and put a sandpaper tongue to his kitty dick n' balls while Kristy pulled maintenance of a different sort on her twat taco. She'd be home in a while, she just needed to work the num...bers...

STEP STEP STEP STEP... she heard footsteps waaaay down the hallway outside the cube farm she sat in. She knew those steps; knew those shoes too. Well-made shoes they were... hard soles. The shoes of a man... THE man, in fact! Unlike the leading man whom she'd frigged herself to sleep over, this guy was quite real and tangible.

"Time for a girl to get some water," she thought to herself.

She was at once up to her feet and across the cube farm, taking fast steps so as to arrive just...in ....time. She made it! She'd headed him off.

There he was, carrying several folders under his arm and walking his walk. It was a walk she'd recognize anywhere; having heard it so many times. He was still a dark shape waaaaay down the hall but she clearly knew whom it was by the posture and the stride in all that dimness.

"Hello Karl," she said to the darkness.

He stopped, then emerged into the light.

"Hello Kristie," he replied politely. He was always polite, so polite.

"Getting ready for another night shift of sorting through X-rays?"

"Yes," he replied, looking down at the fresh stack of medical photographs, each in its own folder, "the folks in Mumbai have given me plenty of things to keep me busy until morning."

Karl's job was to work through the night, receiving X-rays that were read by physicians in India. Earlier in the day (someplace in the western hemisphere), doctors who subscribed to Praetorian Group's Medical data sharing service had asked for X-rays to be completed on their patients. It was a work rhythm Karl was all too well versed in. The X-rays were then sent by Praetorian online to any of a number of Indian doctors who read the photographs throughout the night. They'd then send their findings back via internet to Praetorian night owls like Karl, who packaged the findings in a format for the customers; physician's who'd show up to work the next day and have results waiting for them to read with their morning coffee. Karl enjoyed the fact that he could work through the night without too many daytime staff getting in his way, (not that he seemed to mind Kristie stopping him in the dark hall and making small talk).

"What are you up to so late again," he asked tossing her charming smirk and a micro-wink, "more numbers?"

She went red. He really did have "the charm," going on all time! He'd only said a few words and yet it made her come unglued inside. It seemed everything he did happened with confidence, and with the calm serenity of a coy pond. She on the other hand...

"Ermm well, * nervous giggle * I just needed to bang out a few more bits of work but, I'm thirsty so I was off to the cooler and I also gotta pee,"

She was fibbing of course. She wasn't thirsty... well, she was actually; thirsty for a good strong set of shoulders and driving hips pushing a solid cock back and forth but *PHEEW* that was beside the point! She couldn't tell him she'd come running out into the hall like a giddy school girl just to "goofy flirt" with this guy she barely knew but fantasized about all the fucking time, especially when the guy happened to be him and...

OH MY GOD! I just told him I needed to pee? Stupid! Stupid! STUPID! ... I am such a dork! A complete DORK!

She was still beating herself up in the back of her mind. She'd not even noticed him saying something pleasantly glib to the effect of, 'Well good luck with that; hope everything comes out okay,' before he gracefully stepped past. He disappeared down the dark hallway to his own office across from a flickering red fire exit sign.

He was gone? Wait, she'd not even had time for conversation and... Oh SHIT! DORK! DORK! DORK! So stupid!

He'd done it again. He'd completely flummoxed her. With just a smile and a wink and that honey-drip voice of maleness soothingly drizzling in her ears he'd turned her into a babbling idiot.

How the FUCK did he do that? Awww shit, who cared; she was never going to get him to notice her... still it was fun to see him in the hall when he passed, and now he'd done it again; triggered something in her. She knew what to do; same as she'd done those other times. Her feet moved fast down the hall to the women's restroom.

SLAM! the door closed loudly behind her. She wasn't in the mood to be quiet... hell she was alone in the building save the security people on the first floor ... and HIM, way down the hall in his office.

No, she could be as loud as she wished. She could wreck her girlie-junk just like all the other times when she'd seen him in the hallway and he'd hit her with the look and the honey voice. Her shoes skidded and slid as she rounded the corner into the nearest open stall.

A drape of her long jacket on the stall hook, a lift of her short dress...and her ass found that good old familiar toilet seat. Those pesky thong panties hit the tile floor like she'd shot 'em from a cannon! She began.

It was an oh so good self-abusing clit-flick and finger-blast she gave herself; so nice and nasty. Fuck the TV stars and to hell with online porn! She had HIS face in her head now dammit; fueling this masturbatory fantasy oh so marvelously!

There was just the sound of her hand frigging away and the sweet little sips of air rushing back and forth in her lungs... sweet deliciously desperate little sips echoing against the tiles of the ladies' room. Selfishly shameful little sips they were even; blasted through flaring nostrils as she bit her lower lip 'n did 'that oh so rude thing' to her clit.

That thing. She'd done that thing so very much in her life. It made her feel ashamed and yet so very much alive. She remembered doing that thing on so many occasions. To be honest, she'd throw down her panties any day of the week for self-indulgence. It was like pizza for her - even if she wasn't hungry she could go for it. Still, she still preferred a nice stiff cock... no make that - she ADORED it, craved it, worshipped it even!

Now she was craving HIS, and in the back of her naughty little heart and mind he was there, with that cock of his. Oooh she imagined it, all thick and veiny and rampant; jutting even. A pulsing threat of a good time, just aching to stab up inside her as she was now stabbing at herself, vigorous pokes of her hand now; one, two, three fingers inside her - oh she was bad!

She didn't care. It felt great and imagining it was HE hurting her "hoo-hoo hole" instead of her hand... well that was simply the best! She humped hips against the heel of her palm, mashing against her bean whilst her fingers busily plunged up inside her; back n' forth, back n' forth, back n' forth.

In his office, Karl's fingers were moving busily as well. Like blazing fast movements of a humming-birds wing they danced. Faster and faster he typed with three screens open; each with text and x-ray images flashing before him almost too fast to perceive. He kept going at this frantic break-neck speed on the keys; the screens now seeming to flicker like a strobe light; the motion of his hands a blur.

TAP!

He hit send. It was his last message for the night. Done.

He looked at his watch. It was a very old watch... an old timepiece from a bygone age, when watches were art and Art Deco was everywhere along with the Jazz that celebrated the age. He wondered what Vienna looked like now. No matter, no sense being sentimental about such things.

Three minutes had passed since he'd set down the stack of folders and pulled up his screens. He was slowing down perhaps? No, the people in Mumbai had just given him a lot extra to work on, and he'd still knocked out a full night's work... in three minutes.

He heard her; the sips and the rubs, and the feet shuffling on the floor of the ladies' room. The echoes way way WAY down the hall were unmistakable. She was doing it again to herself. Bad girl, didn't her mother ever tell her that was a nasty thing only very very bad girls did?

Downtown could wait, he just had to see for himself. He was up out his chair. He moved to the door.

Kristie found just the right pace. In her mind he'd mounted her now. Should it be a Ra*e? No, she decided - he'd done that to her the last time she masturbated... and that was a fantasy she'd worn out on a number of occasions.

This time he'd come to her bedroom after she'd called him and told him over the phone to hurry and bring some wine and she'd have music on for him. She wanted an afternoon booty call from him in this fantasy. He was crushing down into her, squeezing all the air from her lungs; his hand choking her just the way she craved. Oh and then there was the matter of that cock; like a thick gnarly veiny tree-trunk it was; splitting her twat hole in one plunge after another of squishy penetration.

Her fingers sped up harder and rougher inside her. She was riding that terribly fine line between pleasure and hurting herself. She didn't care, let it hurt. It felt wonderful!

She now worked open the buttons to her blouse; making access for the other hand. Underneath her bra those fingers of hers found first one nipple for a tweaky twisty-tease, before she provided the other much needed attention; all while down below she abused and frigged her sex, making herself squishy and marvelously humid from lovely nasty strokes she craved. Her only regret was it was not him. A few seconds more of this and she remembered another filthy itch she had concerning him.

She blushed. Was she the sickest woman on the planet? She answered her own question with a NO... she was simply one of many who secretly hungered for a good hair-pulling fuck, but would never admit to it. Letting go of her tit, she kept plunging her pink puss-hole but now slid her free hand down her backside, having to turn herself slightly on the commode to do such. That yoga class she'd taken had come in "handy" when it came to helping her cum by herself.

Her fingers continued down the cleft of her bottom and she teased first her taint before backing them up to the swollen foul pucker of her anus. She made little circles on her naughty pink backdoor; all while continuing to rub rub RUB at her sex in excruciatingly lovely strokes. The whole time she imagined it was HIS cock plunging her cunt... HIS fingers tracing her asshole. Oh she was bad, she thought, but then what was wrong with a bit of hedonism?

Who the hell did it hurt?

She began to hump her hand ever so hard, getting that clit to mash just so against herself. It was just the way she liked things; just the pace, just her speed! Her nostrils whistled and blasted as she let out a sort of whining "HMMMMmmmmm," through them.

Oh that was it! She could feel him atop her, taking her and doing as he wished; making her the sexual center of his attention. OH YES, so very nice!

Faster and faster she stroked, her panting a frantic echo bouncing from the tiles of the washroom. She flipped a foot back and forth involuntarily, knocking her shoe off in the process. She couldn't care in the least now...

Fuck the shoe! Fuck it Kristie... and while you're at it FUCK YOURSELF! FUCK YOURSELF RAW!

"AAHHHaaahhhhh!" she seethed and whispered with eyes clamped shut. She bit her lip and hissed selfishly, like water poured atop a hot stove. A second later and she found what she was looking for. Her hands became now frantic frigging frenzy, her mouth made an "O." She opened her eyes wide and felt the full force of her...

"HHHHAAAHHHH! *gasp* OOHHHH! AAH! UGGHHHH!!!"

She quaked happily. She shook; dribbling a bit down those fingers of hers. Her anus let go with a tooting SQUONK! of a fart that sounded in the toilet beneath her.

Wait, what was that? She'd heard a laugh?

As she came she thought she'd seen a shadow had flitting inside the stall with her at the far corners of her vision. There was no laugh silly girl, you'd just made yourself cum hard and proper! It was a good release.

As for what you saw... well blame those shitty fluorescent lights in this ladies room. Damn things were always flickering... now pull your things together and wash your hands. Oh and find that shoe!

She washed her hands in the sink, satisfied she'd done a good job of taking care of business. She'd need about another five minutes back at her desk and she'd be done with her numbers. She failed to see a flimsy shadow slip out the open washroom window to her right into the darkness beyond.

Now Karl was out for a night on the town.

The remainder of the evening went very much the same as all the other late nights for Kristie. She arrived home, fed Oreo, pulled a frozen dinner for herself out of the freezer, and plopped herself down in front of the TV. She wanked herself to sleep, got up the next morning at six and repeated the process. The process. The same process again and again until it was strung into five processes, signaling allegedly then end of a work week. It was a bloodless grind - she only wished she'd find a man to grind on her the way this week had. She only wished she could find a cock to suck as hard as the way the "process" had sucked the joy out of her; day after day, week after week, month after joy-sucking month.

But today was a Friday. Friday was different. She told herself it was, anyhow. It was a lie. She'd be here late... but all day she worked pretending the opposite to be true. That Friday would be different, however. She simply didn't know it.

Five o'clock came and with it, she was still scowling at email. She'd opened attachments on something she promised herself could wait until Monday and BOOM, she was working on a project that would keep her busy well past quitting time. She was disappointed in herself but not in the least bit surprised. The only one going out this evening would be her cat Oreo by the looks of things, (and of course he'd prowl the neighborhood until the wee hours while she was asleep after having frigged herself rotten once again with the TV on). The rest of the world would be out enjoying the evening and she'd squander yet another Friday night.

People began to get up, gather their things and start their commute home while she tap- tap - tapped away. Fewer and fewer people lingered. One or two folks in other cubicles finished phone calls and departed. It began to grow long shadows everywhere outside the window as the sun sank lower and lower. Shortly the horizon became crimson as the minutes ticked off and a ticked-off Kristie ignored what time it was as she worked another pointless task.

Darkness outside prevailed now. The lights in the cube farm dimmed momentarily as one of the late-hanging coworkers started to turn out the lights, only to realize Kristie was still present and working hard as ever.

"I'll get the lights Walt," she called out to him, "have a good weekend!"

Walt nodded and shrugged, then headed out into the hall. Now Kristie was alone. She tapped away at her computer and then heard Walt's cheerful voice ring out waaaay off down the hallway,

"Evening Karl!"

"Good evening Walt," Karl replied, "and you be sure to have a good weekend."

"You too!"

Karl was here? How late had Kristie been working? She looked at the clock. 6:15 - damn, she didn't mean to be here still but....

She scooted out into the hall for another one of her "drinking fountain" trips. Unfortunately, upon hitting the dark hall, she caught sight of Karl stepping into his office. Before shutting the door however, he shot a look down the long hall at her. He winked and smiled cordially.

That wink was like a lightning bolt. It traveled through the dimness of the hall straight to her eye, cutting a sharp downward corner and straight-on into her clit. Her nookie nub throbbed, hard. The feeling rebounded straight up, crashing into her brain.

"Hi Kar... " she began to say, (now realizing she was talking to air as she distinctly hear his door close up the hall behind her). She was a failure again.

Sonovabitch! Sonovabitch! Sonovabitch, I missed him!

She didn't do her usual however. There was no trip to the restroom. She wanted to finish her numbers and get this week over with so she could be pathetic on her couch while Oreo went out and had more of a life than she; pissing on the neighbor's deck furniture and screwing every feline in heat in a half-mile radius. She returned to her cube.

She worked the numbers a bit more. The minutes ticked by. Strangely, despite her decision to avoid "me time" in the ladie's room, the need to rub one out persisted. Over the next ten minutes, with each tap of the keyboard she sensed that the effect of that wink of Karl's had simply not washed away.

What the hell. Who is keeping track of me at the moment anyhow? No need to go to the girl's room.

Her thong panties hit the grey carpet of the cube farm. She raised her ass from her chair and pulled her skirt up before plopping herself back down with spread legs for better "access." Her hands went to work.

This was a first for her, masturbating at work area; in the cube farm no less! She was such a bad girl. A very BAD girl!

What would her mother think? If she made enough of a mess... what would the cleaning crew think? She chuckled to herself, ran a tongue across her lips and frigged her pink sex. Besides... she was alone, who was going to find out?

She was wrong again. There was someone else there. A shadow, drifted down out of the circulation vents like so much dust, so much smoke, so much shimmery "gas vapors on a hot day." The collective bits of nothingness moved along the floor...to her.

She didn't see the cloud of shadowy nothing rise from the floor. She didn't see it grow and take form. It was now man-sized, man-shaped, and becoming solid.

Flesh, bone, hair, clothes, shoes; they were all there in one complete being now. Karl stood before her. He cleared his throat.

"Ahem,"

Kristie'd had her eyes shut but now they flew open and to her mortified horror. Karl was standing right there between her and her keyboard! Hell, he was between her widely spread knees, even. He was most definitely "in her space" as they liked to say down in HR. THIS however was the least of her concerns.

Wide-eyed with fright, she'd been caught and she knew it! Her mouth opened in an attempt to shriek ....yet no sound came forth. Her instinct was to bolt to her feet and formulate some absurd explanation as to what she'd been doing in her computer chair, (despite the fact she'd clearly had her fingers up inside her pink gash between spread thighs). Again she tried to speak but no, Karl had made eye contact with her and quickly placed a finger to her lips, silencing her voice as easily as snuffing a candle.

"Calm... calm... calm yourself," he cooed in that voice like soft drizzling honey.

For all her panic and terror just a moment before, Kristie now felt herself strangely tranquil. His word or perhaps the look in his eyes had completely shifted her mood, her emotions. She now felt as if she were lead; unable to move. Delightfully so. She still tried to speak but no... his finger came down again gently to her lips.

"Shusssssh, shush, shush!" he told her, a strange devilishly handsome confidence.

She had not a sound in her throat anywhere to be found it seemed. There were no words necessary anyhow. That finger felt so cool to her lips and the soothing notes in his shushing let her know he'd be more than complicit.

He'd be illicit.

In a flash he was down between her legs with her knees high and the swivel chair tipped back to the very limits of its mechanics. His dexterity surprised her. He was stronger than he looked, (in fact he was "beast strong" for a fellow so lean and slender).

He was deft too. Those fingers of his set to work, stroking her petals with the gentle brush of a butterfly's wing. He knew precisely how much pressure she required without going so much as one hair over it. It was like a warm loving second set of her very own hands; as if he were inside her head reading exactly how she liked her hooded nub to be teased, how she liked her petals traced, the rim of her pink sex-hole stroked. Oooh she felt a happy little shudder - he was just as good as she'd fantasized!

She opened her eyes and saw him looking back at her; that same ever-present confidence working its magic. She began to juice... just a little seep, but juice nonetheless. The finger wiggled its way inside her and hooked back upon itself; finding her gush-button as his other hand did that little soothing strokey strokey thing to her nub.

"You've needed this for some time," he commented in that same honey-drizzle voice. Now she was leaking. That voice and that hooked finger did it. Seeping humidity began to trickle and run.

Karl changed it up. Instead of talking, he put that tongue of his to its best use. Oh and use it he did!

Kristie's eyes went wide as that tongue did that... that THING to her! She'd been eaten before, but this was something altogether different. It defied her understanding of anatomy and geometry; all in an action beyond what she believed the human tongue was capable of inflicting upon a twat.

It was blazing fast; delightfully so. Her mind could barely register the darting flicking pleasure as it worked its way up inside her puss petals, exploring the folds and creases; diddling her clit with wicked little flicks. It was as though a delightfully diligent hummingbird was supping her; one with a tongue that was positively pointy, fleshy and deliciously devilish, (all at the very same time)!

It was absolutely prehensile as well. It suddenly seemed to take upon a life of its own, moving down...down...down to her twat-hole and then up... up... up inside her; only to keep on going! She suddenly found herself bucking and humping against his face as that tongue now seemed transformed, serpent like now and wriggling up inside her... so wonderfully.

She'd been holding her legs up for him, hands beneath her thighs. It was totally unnecessary as he was well in control of her pretty legs which were going nowhere at the moment. Overcome, she dropped her hands to his head and ran fingers through that black hair, pulling him by the back of his skull and humping his face selfishly - she so needed this! It was then that tongue did one more .... thing.

It curled back against itself and hooked like a pose-able finger; smack bang on that juice button up inside that twat of hers. He was giving her g-spot a good old fashioned finger fuck... and with his tongue no less! With one free hand he now brought the pad of his thumb to her clit... and stroked. The effect took faster than even he expected.

She sucked in her breath and it all came up within her. Her lip quivered and frantically she thrashed hips. Her eyes slammed shut as she shook her head from the extreme sensation shuddering through her...ripping through her... gnawing through her... WAIT GNAWING? Was he biting her? OH HELL WHO CARED IT FELT SO GADDAM GOOD!

"HAAANNNHHHHHHH" she bawled out through her nose and a second later she filled his mouth with splashings; her orgasm echoing throughout the cube farm!

He raised his head from her thighs and smiled as she opened her eyes dreamily, returning the grin. She'd splashed like a broken pipe and now felt deliciously calmas the drops trickled down his chin, her thighs, and from the chair. She shook and wriggled happily, finally finding the strength to speak.

"Woo-hoo!" she exclaimed quite impressed with what had just transpired, "never came that hard... ever!"

"More chances for that tonight," he said coming to his feet and offering his hand, "at a place across town I know of,"

"But I have work to finish," she said, looking back to her computer screen.

"Seriously?" he asked, looking over his shoulder at the work she didn't need to be doing, "I mean, its Friday and this work has Monday at nine, written all over it,"

"But you can't just leave either," she protested with a pretty head still swimming in post-orgasmic fog, "you have to..."

"To work?" he grinned, with that voice trickling honey again; all soothes and dreaminess, "its Friday, its my night off,"

True enough, she'd never seen him come in on Friday nights. Even a night owl like Karl needed time off. So what was he doing here anyho...?

"I had to come in and get something from the building?" he said as if reading her thoughts.

"What was that?" she asked as she bent down to retrieve her thong panty, searching for it unsuccessfully.

"YOU," he shot back smugly, holding her panty up triumphantly in his other hand before flicking it into her open purse on her desk. How'd he been so fast snatching those up from the floor?

"Oh and don't put those back on," he continued, "you won't be needing anything of the sort where we're going."

"You came here for ...me?" she blushed and looked away shyly.

"Of course," he admitted, "I was intrigued and turned on considerably... what from all your nasty delicious self-abuse all these late evenings in the lavatory after I'd come up the hall to work. I had to... make my move."

He knew about THAT? How in the hell...? She was mortified, and speechless, and... turned on.

"Oh please," he snapped softly, "the fact that I know is of no importance. The fact that it drew me to you tonight, now that's something significant,"

He offered his hand again. He was so very VERY charming ...and had done simply devilish things to her down between those legs of hers. He cocked one eyebrow wryly.

"Shall we?"

She took his hand with a barely perceptible nod and with her free hand logged off her computer before snatching up her purse. The two left the room. Karl hit the lights, bathing the cube farm in darkness broken only by the fire exit's light. They moved as an illicit pair down the hall, into the darkness beyond.

Illicit? She may have felt that way... leaving her work half completed. It was a good girl's guilt. She needn't have felt that way, it was Friday evening, and this was ...a date.

They exited ground-floor lobby. Karl and she both gave the security guards a curt nod. One of the guards behind the desk watching television news mentioned something about them having a good weekend, but to no avail; the glass door already closing behind their backs as they moved swiftly, anxious to start this thing Karl had in mind. They stepped out into the night moving along the streets of the city heading further downtown.

It began to rain. First one or two drops here and there; coming out of the grey black swirling vastness of the night sky. Then a bit more; pitty pats here and there.

"Maybe another night?" she asked.

"Come on," he said with that assuring wry smile, "you aren't going to let a few drops stop you?"

She snuggled in close, letting the odd drops strike now and again as they step, step, stepped along. She didn't mind the drops. She was with him. He'd already make her absolutely soaking that night; what was a few dribbles more anyhow?

They made their way downtown. The partiers were not quite out in force yet; most probably still finishing off dinner before stepping out, (or having a drink at the cheaper bars offering drinks at discount prices). Dinner sounded good, to both of them.

In the restaurant they sat in a high booth in a corner. It was marvelously dark in the place with an ever-present red lighting system keeping the place illuminated yet cozily dim. The high backs and closed sides of the booths did the rest. Privacy was assured when the waitress was away.

As they ate they enjoyed in charming conversation, with her happily laughing over her meal. He ordered plenty of red wine for her and eventually told the waitress to just leave the bottle. He didn't have any. Didn't touch his water either; just tucked into his steak, (so rare it looked like a car crash with no seatbelts in use). In between bites, he was charming and eloquent, always hitting her with that honey-drip of a voice, a voice she wanted to simply curl up in a ball with and snuggle inside.

Of course, there was "other snuggling inside" going on during the whole meal -that being his hand. He may have been the perfect gentleman above the table but down below it was a different story altogether. That hand of his was down inside her legs beneath her skirt; taking full advantage of her thong being out of the way, stuffed inside her purse, oh and what a busy hand it was!

She absolutely juicing from it; downright squishy even. His fingers were blasting in and out of her puss flower, diddling her to a frenzy and it was all she could do to not gasp out in the restaurant. She feared having everyone craning necks to see what was the trouble.

Her clit took the abuse too; took it like a trooper and on several occasions she just gave in and humped his hand like the wanton little slutty hoe-bag she'd always wished to be. There in the dimness on at least three occasions she climaxed; orgasming good and solid too, (with the clatter of dishes plus the voices of the waitresses and diners covering their mischief. On each ocassion she stopped speaking and merely gripped her hands upon the edge of the table; letting him do it - as he reveled in getting her off.

The seat beneath her ass was a was a veritable swampy mess. It was a very good thing indeed he'd seen fit to have her pull her skirt high above her hips so as not to soil things. She was exposed; nude from the waist down and to her amazement she felt both thrilled and completely at ease, as he blocked the view of anyone approaching their table with his own imposing form.

The vinyl seat and the carpet below took the brunt of the drips and dribbles, (plus three of the napkins snatched from atop the table). Oh he was behaving like an absolute fiend, whilst she herself was the worst of absolute whores. She totally loved it; every stroke, every caress, ever squishy dribble - all while up above the table the meal and the polite conversation went on!

Dinner and coffee finished, he took care of the bill. They left the establishment, heading back out into the streets; step, step, stepping along through the raindrops on their way to... something. He was being coy about it. He wouldn't say what or where it was, just that it was special. It was ok, she liked surprises.

They turned down a narrow street. The shops to either side were boarded up. They then passed a dingy pawn shop and a florist shop that had closed for the night, then a series of rundown working class dive bars, then a parking garage. This was special?

The way ahead became narrower and darker. Thankfully the rain had let up but it was replaced by a darkness shadowy pavement and dumpsters whose roof was a swirling black stew of cloudy skies, illuminated from below by other parts of the city. The street smelled of rain and uncollected trash. A figure stepped out of a side street.

"Can you spare some change, Sir? Ma'am?" the man said.

Karl made eye contact with him and handed him some coins from his pocket.

"You need to get off the streets," he said to the bum, "its dangerous out here."

He looked at the fellow with a strange stare that made the panhandler's face suddenly lose all emotion as his eyes glazed over. It was like the shabby looking derelict had suddenly been struck by a dart coated with some exotic drug, placing him in a strange altered trance. The pause was long, and uncomfortable for Kristy. She moved closer to Karl. Then the man spoke in a dreamlike state,​