"I think," he mused aloud, "that I would like to make use of that little room on your patio...."
The End.
Interview with a Mediator
I was sitting at my desk, staring at the photo of Nicole Scherzinger on the cover wearing that black leather skirt, and remembering what happened after I got that photo, when my phone rang.
"John Libby."
"Hi John, this is Cynthia Williams at the Assignment Editor's desk. How are you?"
At the sound of that husky yet smooth ebony voice, I shifted in my seat. "Hi, Miss Williams. I'm good. What can I do for you today?"
"Well, for starters, you can tell me you don't have any assignments on your calendar."
"Like when?"
"The first week of December. We've got the Sarah Shahi piece coming up for the January issue and believe it or not nobody is available to do it."
"You're right, I don't believe it."
"Please, John, can you do it? Please, pretty please? You did such a great job with the Nicole Scherzinger article, I know you would be perfect for this."
"Well, actually, I do have that week clear."
"Great, baby! How can I repay you?"
"How about dinner?"
"Sounds good, baby. I'll give your contact info to Sarah's publicist."
"Okay. Cool."
* * * * *
The first week of December. I was still digesting the feast I'd shared with my co-workers.
I was at the coffee shop, seated across from the very beautiful Sarah Shahi. I asked her one of the questions on the list that Cynthia had given me. "So, you must be pretty excited about getting renewed?"
"Oh my god, I am so excited. We start shooting new episodes in January. Frankly I'm just glad that people were watching the show."
"I have to admit, I liked it from the first episode."
"Really? That is so sweet. What did you like?"
"Well, mostly because it seems like your character really wants to help people avoid the courts. It's too bad you're not a real mediator."
Sarah gave one of her trademark winks. "You're too sweet. What else?"
"That outfit you wore in the first few scenes of the pilot episode might have been what pulled the guys in. Certainly pulled me in."
Sarah rolled her eyes playfully. "Tell me, what is it about you guys and tight skirts and high heels?"
I chuckled as I sipped my hot cocoa. "It's a guy thing. Kind of like how women can walk in those high heels. My friend at work says its a girl thing."
"A guy thing. I swear, you men are impossible. I suppose I should take that as a compliment."
"It was meant as one."
"Okay. Thank you. I think."
"So, how does working on Fairly Legal compare to other shows you've done?"
"Every show I've done previously had different people working on it, both on the screen and behind the camera. But I love the chemistry on this show. Everyone is so amazing. As I said before, I am very excited to get back work with everyone. Kind of like with you and your friend at work."
"What do you mean?"
"You must like her."
"Well, yeah, she is pretty cool..."
"No, you must really like her. You've mentioned her twice in the course of this interview."
I couldn't help but blush. I coughed and stared out the window while I sipped at my cocoa. "Maybe. A little."
Sarah grinned. "No maybe about it. Hey, I just got an idea. You bring your 'friend' Cynthia to the photo shoot and I will bring that black skirt and pumps with me to the photo shoot. Okay?"
I grinned back at her. "Sounds good."
* * * * * * *
It had taken a little bit of work to convince Cynthia to be there for the photo shoot. But eventually she agreed to be there.
This time I was doing the shoot at the office studio instead of my home photo studio. Not only would it be easier to send all the video and photos to the IT guys, but it would much more difficult to have any kind of sex. I had to be careful about that. All it took was one mad celebrity and I was screwed.
So anyway, there was Sarah, wearing that skin-tight black skirt, those sky-high open-toed black suede pumps, and a blue top with a plunging scoop neck line, seated before lighted mirror while the makeup artist did her thing.
Samantha Smith, caramel to Cynthia's chocolate, the hair and makeup artist, was fussing over Sarah as I got my camera ready.
Standing next to me as I screwed a lens into place on my favorite camera, was Cynthia, her shiny black hair slicked back in a tight bun, wearing a soft black turtleneck sweater dress with a black patent leather belt, and matching patent leather boots with five-inch-high stiletto heels.
I got a hard-on just looking at her.
Cynthia was looking like she needed to be somewhere, anywhere but here, arms folded over her chest, fingers tapping her arms, her glossy lips pursed impatiently. She said, "Okay. I'm here. Why exactly am I here, John?"
"I told you. She wanted to thank you for making the process so quick."
"She could have done that by email or phone. I told you I have a ton of meetings today."
"You need to relax."
Cynthia released a short laugh. "Can you tell?"
"Boyfriend not doing it for you?"
"Ex-boyfriend. And no, he wasn't."
"He couldn't have been that bad. Could he?"
"Yes, he could. But we'll discuss that later at dinner."
I couldn't keep a smile from appearing. "Not too busy for dinner?"
Cynthia smiled back. "I'm never too busy to have dinner with you, baby."
"Cool."
Suddenly Samantha came over and said, "Okay, John, she's all ready."
"Thanks, Samantha."
"Do you need me to stay?"
"No, go ahead. I know you've got some errands to run, don't you?"
"Yes, I do, actually. I'm sorry."
"Nah, don't sweat it. But I will need you for the whole day next time."
"Okay. I promise, the whole day next time. Thanks, John." With a kiss on the cheek, Samantha breezed out of the room.
I went over to Sarah, who stood up. She smiled at me and said, "So, is this your friend that you mentioned?"
"Sarah, this is Cynthia Williams. Cynthia, Sarah Shahi."
Sarah said, "It's so nice to meet you."
"Likewise, Sarah."
"Thanks for coming by. I know you must be busy but I just wanted to thank you for all your work."
"Oh, no problem."
"Why don't you stay for a few minutes? I'm sure the office can do without you for a little while."
Cynthia rolled her eyes. "I think they could, too. Yes, I'll stay for a little bit."
Sarah's eyes flicked up and down Cynthia. "I can see why he speaks so highly about you."
Cynthia blushed, laughing. "You're too kind. But thank you, Sarah."
"This is a beautiful outfit you have on, Cynthia."
"Thank you. You don't look too shabby either."
"Why don't you come pose with me?"
"No, thank you, Sarah."
"Oh, come on, why not?"
"I'm not nearly as pretty as you are."
"Nonsense. She's pretty, right John?"
Right on cue, I said, "Beautiful. Especially in that outfit."
Sarah looked back at Cynthia. "See? Come on, just a few pictures. Think of it as a keepsake."
I was struggling to keep my mouth shut. I've been wanting to take pictures of Cynthia for a long time now but that's not the sort of thing you ask a co-worker to do. At the same time my dick was so hard it almost hurt.
Cynthia finally said, "Okay. But just a few."
Sarah cheered. "That's the spirit!"
That tightness in my groin got worse as Sarah took Cynthia's hand and walked over to the set with her, which was just a simple white background.
Struggling to maintain my focus, I popped the lens cap off, and lifted the camera to my face.
About a half an hou
r later, Cynthia suddenly looked at her watch and said, "Shit! I need to go!"
Sarah said, "Oh, don't go! I was having so much fun!"
Cynthia said, "Believe me, so was I. That's the problem. I really need to go."
"I know John is having fun. His pants look a little tight around the crotch. I think his dick might even be hard."
I grimaced. Because it was indeed quite hard, thank you very much.
Then I swallowed as Cynthia slowly walked over to me, her boots clicking on the tile floor. She took Sarah's hand and said, "Let's find out."
I said, "Uh, ladies..."
Cynthia stepped up very closely and said, "I know you've been wanting some of this. Haven't you?"
I swallowed again. "You got me."
Cynthia grinned naughtily. "Well, as much as I would love to fuck you right now, I'm afraid all I have time for is a little oral sex. Want to help, Sarah?"
Sarah grinned at Cynthia and then at me. "I'd love to." Then she reached for my t-shirt tucked into my jeans. "Let's get started, shall we, Cynthia?"
Cynthia leaned in to kiss me, her breasts pressing against my chest. Suddenly two different feminine hands were fondling my already-erect cock through my jeans.
"Oh my goodness, someone definitely is hard."
"Yep. You got me."
Both of them laughed cute little tinkles of laughter. Cynthia kissed me again, and this time she eased her tongue inside my mouth. Then suddenly I heard a zipper being unzipped and I realized it was mine, because then there was the sensation of a female hand reaching inside and easing my cock out.
Sarah was down on her knees before me, stroking it slowly. "Do you mind if I suck your dick, John?"
I shook my head. "Uh, nope."
Sarah grinned. "Good." And then I gasped as my cock was suddenly surrounded by warmth and moisture.
I groaned as Sarah sucked my cock. Cynthia ran her tongue and lips along my neck. Her voice whispered, "Do you like the way she sucks your cock, baby?"
"What do you think?"
"Judging by all that grunting and groaning you're doing, I'd say pretty good."
It was driving me nuts to watch 'the' Sarah Shahi sucking my dick. I almost came in her mouth right then.
Cynthia's lips were gently kissing my neck. Then she said, "Would you mind if I took my turn now?"
"Go for it."
"Thank you, I will."
I looked down and watched as Cynthia eagerly took my dick in her mouth but sucked slowly and gently. Then Sarah stood up. "You know, it's too bad you sent the makeup artist away. Because I might need a touch-up after we're done with you."
I chuckled and grinned. "Yeah. But I can always call another makeup artist if I need to."
Sarah grinned, too. "Good. Now shut up and kiss me."
So I did. For a few minutes I was absolutely in heaven as Sarah kissed me while Cynthia sucked my dick. Then Sarah joined her down there and they took turns.
I could definitely tell the difference between Sarah's technique and Cynthia's. Cynthia's sucking was slow and easy and gentle, while Sarah's was more rapid.
In either case, I was in heaven. This was definitely a perk they didn't discuss in college.
But this wouldn't last much longer, unfortunately. I could feel that tightness in my groin getting worse.
I grunted out, "Ladies. Going. To come."
The sucking got faster, more insistent. Then suddenly there was a great big squeezing sensation. I groaned out loud and stared at the ceiling. I didn't care whose mouth I came in.
I finally looked down, to see Cynthia releasing my dick from her mouth. Sarah said, "Can I taste?" She kissed Cynthia and extended her tongue.
Shit, that was sexy.
Cynthia stood up, fixing her dress. She looked a lot less tense this time. "Okay. I have to get back to work. You two try not to have any more sex. And you," she said, poking one long French fingernail into my chest, "be good. I'll see you tonight for dinner."
I grinned. "Yes, Cynthia."
With the clicking of her boot heels following her out the door, Cynthia left. I turned back to Sarah, clapping my hands together. "So. What say we get back to work?"
Sarah winked. Then she gave me a nice hug. A minute later she pulled back. "Sure. Let me just redo my lipstick."
"Right."
"And, by the way..."
"Yes?"
"I'm not wearing panties. Just in case you were wondering."
I gulped, caught. I had indeed been wondering about that. Then I zipped my fly closed and found my camera.
* * * * * * *
A few hours later, Sarah said, "If you don't mind, I'm going to slip into something a little more comfortable. These heels are killing my feet."
"Oh, yeah, sure, go ahead. We'll just wrap this up, and you can be on your way."
"Is Cynthia going to come by and pick you up for dinner?"
I glanced at my watch and panicked slightly. Even though dinner wasn't until six, and it was only two, I still had some other stuff to do today.
I was going to be late if I didn't get moving.
Sarah seemed to read my mind. She said, "I'll just go change really quick. Or do you think we've taken enough pictures?"
I cracked a grin. "Yeah, I think we have enough."
"Then I will change. Be right back."
I was just putting the memory card in the computer to look at the photos, when Sarah emerged from the dressing stall, clad only in a white terrycloth bathrobe, bare feet, hair up in a bun.
I looked over in surprise. "You weren't kidding when you said you wanted to slip into something more comfortable."
Sarah laughed. "What can I say. High heels aren't good for long wear." Then she saw the monitor. "Wow. Are those the photos we just took?"
"Yep. What do you think?"
"Would Cynthia mind if I joined you guys for dinner? I'll even pay."
The End.
Sign Your Ass Away
"Craig?" called Maggie as the younger man walked past her office. He frowned and let out a sigh before putting on a brave face and stepping back into her doorway.
"Did you need me?" he asked demurely. So keen to please the CIO despite the shared view that she was an almighty cunt.
Now that he was at her doorway she looked back at her desk, not even maintaining eye contact as she spoke. She was offhand, as usual, as if her whims and wishes were clearly the most important thing in Craig's day. She rattled off some request: she hadn't seen the signed-off copy of the capability transfer report Craig had been working on. It was overdue.
He stared at her with undisguised disdain as she spoke, his anger at the pointless request boiling inside him. She was overweight, with a pudgy face and outdated hair. Her skin was smooth and her cheeks had the rosy tint of someone who overindulged. But behind that harmless looking exterior was one mean bitch. Craig had finished the report weeks ago and gotten the nod from all the relevant team leads but he hadn't gotten around to completing the final step mandated by the auditors: all financial documents must include a cover sheet with all the required signatures. It was a pointless step in the process, pure bureaucracy, but Maggie insisted her hands were tied in this by the auditors and Craig needed to get those signatures before she could mark the deliverable as complete.
She glanced up at him as she finished speaking and his expression flashed back to keen obsequiousness.
"Absolutely, Maggie," he said, giving her a nod, "I'm sorry about that being late. I'll get those signatures to you immediately."
He hesitated, waiting to see if there was more but Maggie simply went back to what she was doing and after a moment he turned to walk away. Fucking bitch, he thought, sucking a deep breath to master his anger. This is ridiculous. Craig stormed back to his desk and pulled out the sheaf of blank sign-off sheets that he had in a file there, filling out the top of one with the report's details and the date before heading off to find the various team leads' offices. Five minutes later he was standing at the ele
vator band, leaving his desk and the actual work he had to do behind to chase pointless signatures from a series of disinterested executives.
- - -
When six-thirty rolled around Craig was leaning back in his chair, stretching after a particularly back breaking stint over a beast of a project plan. He had managed to get five of seven signatures but two of the executives he sought had been MIA. He glanced at his watch, shaking his head. No point going looking for them now, they were not the hardest working execs and by now they would be long gone. Fuck, thought Craig, he had a status meeting with Maggie in the morning and he knew it would come up.
He stood up. This is fucking ridiculous, he thought, and stomped over to the filing cabinet outside Maggie's office where she kept the signed off documents. There was no way he was going to get into shit because of something as arbitrary as a project sign-off sheet. He would find the signatures of the people he needed on other sheets and photocopy them onto his.
Locked. Shit.
He knew where the key was: in Maggie's desk drawer, but sure enough her office was locked too, as it always was. But in a perfect example of office moronity the key to her office was in her assistant's desk. So a minute later Craig was opening Maggie's door and retrieving the key, all the while rehearsing excuses in case he was caught. After a brief rifle through her desk and a slightly longer one through the cabinet he was back at his own desk, a whole bunch of sign-off sheets in hand ready to copy and paste, literally.
It was not until he had finished copying a couple of previous sheets and cutting out signatures that he noticed it. Dave Wright's signature was where it was supposed to be. And it was clearly Dave Wright's signature, but the date was all wrong. Dave Wright was Craig's old boss, and he spent July, every year, in Nantucket. But here was his signature on July 15th. Craig glanced at the title of the document Dave had apparently flown back from Nantucket to sign: Project Costing and Risk Report.
Wait a minute. Craig looked again. Comparing Dave's signatures on several documents. They were all his. No fakes here. But wait. They were all the same. Exactly the same. In all the costing reports they were completely identical, down to a tiny mark above the W that was not a part of the signature, but a pen mis-stroke, yet it had still found its way onto all of the reviewed documents.
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