by King Key
She contemplated Kurt’s threshold for abuse. After she got him fired and stole his hard-earned Pacesetter Award, she still lured him into her arms easily. How much would he sacrifice for a taste of Gretel? He looked moonstruck when they stood on stage together—ripe for her to exploit him. She intended to test him further that night.
Kurt’s fingers crept dangerously close to her clitoris. She gripped his hand and took it away from inside her dress. He awkwardly wiggled his hand and arm through the tight opening of her bodice and slid his hand inside her bra. Halfway desiring his caress, she didn’t resist. He touched her nipples gently, conveying more deep affection than lust.
When she gripped his buttocks with her hands, he chortled, “Oho!” She held tight enough to move his hips from side to side before running her hands up the backs of his thighs, up toward his waistline.
He rested his elbow lightly on her chest while his forefinger found her nipple and gently stroked it to hardness. She indulged herself in the luxuriant sensation.
Her hands slid up his thighs and buttocks again. She neared her goal.
His thumb and middle finger joined his forefinger at her nipple. He tweaked her nipple as softly as he could.
But she reacted vigorously, slamming her chest into him with a flurry of thrusts that distracted him from her hand easing his wallet out of his hip pocket, onto the floor. While he moaned, “Oh, Gretel!” she nudged his wallet under the front seat with her foot.
“Let’s cool it,” she suggested. “We’ll be at your office soon.”
“OK, but when we get there… Oh, you’re such a cruel, wonderful mistress!”
Bruiser pulled up to the curb. “Don’t mind me,” he said, “but we’re here. I’ll let you out here and park the car. Ms. Fox, please call me when you’re ready.”
“Go ahead while I have a word with Bruiser,” Gretel told Kurt.
“OK.” Kurt walked lightly into the building, almost tasting his approaching bliss with Gretel.
Gretel leaned close to Bruiser. “Still have your Swiss Army knife?”
“Always.”
“You know what to do.”
Bruiser nodded and drove off to park the Lincoln.
Gretel caught up with Kurt while he was leaving the security guard’s desk. “We’re ba-a-ck!” she said to the guard, with a wink.
“Glad to see you, Ms…”
“Noble. Jessica Noble.” Gretel giggled.
Kurt was so smitten with Gretel he allowed her lie to pass unchallenged. Inside the elevator, Kurt asked, “What if something happens and they blame Jessica?”
“See, you’re not so dumb after all.” Gretel nestled close to him and put her arms around his neck.
He hugged her waist and pressed his lips against hers, hopelessly enchanted, letting her mold him to her wishes. Kurt’s emotions for Gretel—even the fading hostility left from her trickery—enflamed him and filled their kisses with incredible energy.
Gretel released her hold on his neck and turned one hundred eighty degrees, backing into Kurt. “My ass feels even better than it looks, doesn’t it?”
He held Gretel around the waist and pressed his groin against her rump. “Oh, Gretel, I may have to jump you before we reach my office!”
“A hard man is good to find.”
“Please, don’t joke.”
“Who’s joking?!”
They left the elevator on the seventh floor. Gretel walked in front to tempt Kurt with her smooth saunter. He eagerly trailed her to feast on her visual snack. “Gretel,” he said, “I wish I had met you before tonight. Where have you been hiding?”
“Don’t you know?” She winked over her shoulder.
“Sure, Chimera for three years. You joined Sidney when he switched names from Polished Image to Chimera.”
“I changed it. The mythical Chimera was a she-monster. Later the word meant an illusion or an unfulfilled dream. I’m all of the above.”
Kurt inhaled sharply but dared not pursue her line. “Our paths never crossed in three years. Were you avoiding me?”
When they reached his office, the door was still unlocked. Gretel waltzed in, held the door until Kurt entered, and locked it behind him. “Why do you think I’d avoid you?”
He glanced at his desk. “My notepad is still there,” he said. “Were you kidding about coming into my office earlier?”
“What do you mean? Perhaps Bruiser paid a visit, but I couldn’t swear to that.” She paused and smoothed out her dress around her hips to keep Kurt concentrating on her. “If Bruiser wanted the contents of your notebook,” she smirked, “maybe he used a remarkable new invention called a copy machine.”
“Oh, yeah,” he said sheepishly. He took her in his arms and held her tenderly, without sex-driven urgency. “Maybe you’ve avoided me because I offended you three years ago. I sincerely apologize, Gretel.”
“Three years—that narrows your offense down to a few dozen transgressions. Be specific, and I’ll decide whether to accept your apology.”
“You know. When Sidney pursued BizMart’s PR account. I see now Sidney couldn’t have written that proposal. Neither could Jessica. But I wanted to insult Sidney. So I lashed out at the proposal.”
“You think that bothers me?” Her nostrils flared. “Never let personal feelings interfere with business.”
“Writing isn’t just ‘business.’ It’s part of you,” he said. “If I trash your writing, I’m trashing you.”
Kurt thought he saw Gretel’s eyes well up. Had he touched her feelings? She cleared her throat. “Get to the point.”
“I was rude to you. If you’re tough enough to shrug it off, fine. But I can’t. Especially after tonight.” He got down on his knees. “I’m begging you to forgive me. So I can get on with my life.”
Gretel’s touchy-feely moment was gone. “You want to kiss my ass? Fine. Let’s go over in this corner. The lighting’s better, and I can watch you.”
“I’ll pass.”
“You want me to forgive you?”
“Yes, but I don’t want my lips where Judd kissed you.”
Gretel crouched, peered into his eyes, and laughed in his face. “Get real! You’d plant your lips on my anus, but you won’t kiss where another man’s lips have been!”
He peered into her eyes, and the unexpected green disoriented him again. “I’d rather kiss your ass than any man’s lips or most women’s.”
“Don’t bullshit me. No brownie points until you make your nose brown. Got it?”
“Whatever you say, Gretel.”
Kurt’s eagerness to please nearly frightened Gretel. “And I’m not going to forgive you for insulting me until you earn my forgiveness.”
“How?”
“Oh, I can think of lots of ways.” Gretel deferred her demand for Kurt’s five percent of BizMart. “We’ll settle that issue some other time. Let me leave you with an experience that will sear my image into your brain.”
“You’re unforgettable.”
“You’re a man. Men are fickle.” Gretel frowned. “If you won’t kiss my ass, I won’t dry-hump you.”
“Whatever you say, Gretel. Just let me be with you. I think I’m—”
“What a wuss!” she interrupted him. “What happened to you, Kurt? You’re not acting sex-starved. I could harden you if we played tease and denial. But time is short.”
“What’s tease and denial?”
“Oh, Kurt! You’re in for such a treat! We’ll play lots of times. Tease and denial is exhilarating to me. For you, it’ll be pure torture most of the time. But when I show a rare moment of mercy, you’ll think my haven is heaven.”
“Tell me more!”
“No,” she smiled. “See? That’s denial. Get used to it. Take your clothes off and stand in that corner. You can jerk off while I pose for you.”
“Can’t we just kiss?” Kurt began to strip. “And what’s so great about that corner?”
“I have a fixation for watching you lose control. The light’s bett
er over there. Gives me a better view.”
Tossing his clothes about wildly, he undressed quickly. “Want me to sit?”
“No, stand up. I can watch you better.”
He turned pensive. “I’ll mess up the floor when I cum.”
“So what? BizMart crapped on you. You can cum on them. Watch me.” Gretel picked up her mink stole and wrapped it around her shoulders. Holding the stole together with her left hand, she presented her backside to Kurt and patted it with her right hand, as if inviting him to kiss it.
Without any buildup, he started stroking hard.
Gretel hiked up her dress, flipped her stole between her legs, and began rubbing it forward and backward against her crotch, leering at Kurt the whole time. She threw the stole in his face.
Kurt caught the fur with his left hand, letting his right continue to work on his cock, and stuck the fur over his mouth and nose.
“Don’t cover up,” she said. “You look funny when you’re horny.” She bent over at the waist, stuck her right arm back between her legs, and reached back to pat her ass. He was approaching a climax. Gretel turned, pointed near the ceiling, and said, “See the security camera?”
“It used to point the other way.”
“Bruiser fixed it. You’re busted anyway. Go ahead and finish.”
“You ruined the mood.”
“Good. You’ve tasted tease and denial again.” She retrieved her stole from him, careful to stay out of camera range. Picking up her purse, she said, “I’m leaving, Kurt.”
“Please stay. You’re adorable!”
“I’m spending the night with my lover.”
“Anybody I know?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“Play with yourself, Kurt. You’re about to explode.” Gretel turned and walked away, once more igniting Kurt’s lust, with her adorable ass animating the glimmering gold that covered it.
He pumped his cock frantically, ignoring the security camera. Although Kurt never tried anal intercourse, Gretel’s derriere—”still life” or in motion—convinced him Gretel could name her price for a piece of her ass. And she could save her vagina for her lover.
Gretel reached the door to the office. She looked over her shoulder and cooed, “Sweet dreams!” Noticing the rising frenzy that seized Kurt, Gretel winked at him, bent over, and thrust her ass at him.
And her gesture triggered his release. Kurt unloaded a copious stream of semen on the carpet of what used to be his office. The stain seemed appropriate to Kurt’s new attitude toward BizMart.
Although it was his cum, both of them knew that Gretel used Kurt as her instrument to “mark” BizMart indelibly as her territory.
Chapter Fourteen
Dueling Ovaries
When Kurt looked up from his mess on the carpet, Gretel was gone. He felt a pang in his heart. Gretel knew Kurt was sexually addicted to her and her sensuality would make him do her bidding, but she underestimated the full array of her powers. Kurt knew he was sexually and romantically hooked on Gretel.
Kurt wondered how often the guard monitored the security cameras, but he knew he had to leave. Fast. Throwing on his clothes, he patted his right pocket for his keys. Check. Coat pocket for his cell phone. Check. Hip pocket. Other hip pocket. No wallet! He surveyed the room quickly, but vainly.
Kurt heard someone in the hall. He headed to the door.
The guard intercepted him. “The lady that just left said you were acting funny. Were you trying to molest her?”
“You don’t know her very well, do you?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Nobody messes with her.” Kurt reached toward his desk. “Let me grab this notepad, and I’ll be on my way.”
“Company property.”
“OK. Close your eyes, and I’ll disappear.”
“I ought to run you in.”
“Did the lady file charges against me?”
“No, she just complained.”
“There you have it. No case.”
“What about indecent exposure?”
“Not public. If you turn me over to the police, The Sun will raise a stink, maybe front page. The TV stations will follow and give BizMart a black eye. Nobody wants that.”
“Yeah, my employers might fire me. We’re supposed to ensure security, not stir things up. I’ll let it pass. But you disgust me, Mr. Merchant. I thought you were a decent guy. But you’re just a weirdo. Get out of here.”
Kurt walked down the hall without looking back. Goodbye, copious data stored in his computer and on floppy disks. So long, ten years of folders and other paperwork safely tucked away in file cabinets—some predating his heavy computer use, and most strategically removed from hackers, viruses, and worms. No one at BizMart could link the bits of information as well as he—because no one else grasped the data the way Kurt did. Too bad for BizMart. Disaster for him. Kurt knew he shouldn’t direct his anger at BizMart, but he indulged himself in negative thoughts about the company. Gretel had a gift for altering men’s minds—not just their opinions.
When Kurt got to his car, the sight sickened him. All four tires were slashed. Scratch marks covered the body. He decided against calling his insurance company. He’d need a police report because of the amount of damage. Kurt preferred to stay clear of the law for the time being. He’d call Judd. He glanced at his watch. Nearly eleven o’clock.
Eleven o’clock! Barnes and Noble would close soon, ending Jessica’s coffee-drinking vigil. She’d wonder why Kurt had blown off their informal date. He’d call her. He had her business cards in his wallet. Out of habit, he slapped his butt. No wallet, of course. Kurt spotted a phone booth and ran over to it. He found the Barnes and Noble number in the bulky directory and called on his cell phone. “I know this is unusual,” he began, “but could you page Jessica Noble?”
“I’ll see if she’s here,” the clerk obliged.
“Thanks.”
“Welcome.” The clerk put him on hold.
Sooner than Kurt expected, a voice announced, “This is Jessica Noble.”
“Sorry I—”
“Kurt! Where have you been?!”
“Someone slashed the tires on my car and apparently keyed it. I tried to call a car repair place,” he lied, “but it’s too late.”
“I’ll come get you.”
“No, I just wanted you to know why I didn’t come to the bookstore.”
“Why didn’t you call my cell phone number?”
“Your cards are in my wallet, and it’s missing, too.”
“What’s going on, Kurt?”
“You wouldn’t believe me,” he said truthfully.
“Don’t ever underestimate me. I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“You’re an angel,” he said, silently regretting his opposite role. The thought of using Jessica repulsed him. But she deserved a warning before their loose alliance shattered. She offered to help him network, and she expected him to help her. Maybe he could fade away once he made sure she had a job.
Jessica pulled up in her green Saturn a few minutes later. “You look terrible,” she said. “Want to tell me about it?”
He got in the car. “Sort of a binge without alcohol.”
Jessica grimaced while she drove. “Have you been messing around with Gretel?”
He sucked in wind after her direct hit. “She trapped me.”
“And you fought for your life to get away. Where are we going?”
“My house, please. You’re welcome to come in. Or you can be rid of me when we get there. Keep heading west. Take a right at the third light. When we get to that point, I’ll tell you the next turn.”
“How could you?” Jessica asked.
Kurt lacked the courage to confess his crush on Gretel. He couched his weakness in a vague allusion to sex. “Gretel is a candy store.”
“Hope your teeth rot out.”
“She wouldn’t give me sweets. She talked about tease and denial.”
; Jessica put her right turn signal on and made the turn. “I don’t know about tease, but you’re in denial. Where do we go from here?”
“That’s up to you.”
“Directions!”
“Go ten blocks north.”
“Sure you don’t live in Towson?” She took a deep breath. “For such a gifted professional, you’re really a doofus with women.”
“Not just me. Gretel had the whole Vanguard Society in the palm of her hand tonight. You saw it. Like she got caught robbing a jewelry store and said, ‘I was just moving these items to a safer place.’ And everybody believed her!”
“Especially you, Kurt. She stole your family jewels and then suckered you into becoming her accomplice.”
Kurt lapsed into a near-trance, as if dreaming with his eyes open.
Jessica glanced at him. “You all right?”
“The way you said that—‘family jewels,’ ‘suckered,’ and ‘accomplice’—took me back to an episode in my younger days. Really, a pattern of episodes.”
“Want to talk about it?”
“Too embarrassing.”
“Get it out in the open. So you’ll break the pattern.”
“Your perception amazes me. Earlier today, you seemed, uh, simplistic.”
“Habit. Intelligent women frighten some men. So, I dummy down my comments until I get to know someone. But you’re not afraid of smart women. You get along too well with shrewd women. Like Gretel.”
Kurt checked their surroundings. “Turn left at the next light, then another left, and we’ll be on my street. Have you ever done any counseling?”
“No. Didn’t mean to practice psychology without a license.” Jessica turned left. “But I took nine psych courses in college.”
“Impressive!”
She turned left again. “I learned enough to discover that I don’t know much. But I can recognize a fraud.”
“I’m the next house on the right. Your car will be safe on the street. So, should I cancel with Dr. Krafft tomorrow morning?”
Jessica parked and set her emergency brake. “I’d cancel. But I’m not you.”
“How about some coffee?”
“A pot full. I intend to grill you about Gretel.”