* * * 
 
Zoe, Naked at Work


TUESDAY

I had a bit of a hangover when I woke up, even though I hadn't had that
much to drink the night before.  Garrick and Cheryl had bought a couple of
rounds of Kamikazes for the table but I declined, sticking with light beer
and then switching to water before excusing myself and going home.  Marie
seemed disappointed that I was leaving early but whatever she wanted to
say to me couldn't be uttered in front of our co-workers. 

I thought about the kiss we'd almost shared in my office the day before. 
In fact, I could hardly think of anything else.  This attraction
frightened me a bit because I'd never thought of another woman that way. 
As I stepped into the shower I could almost feel the way her breasts
brushed against mine, the sensation of her bra cups against my nipples,
the caress of her hands on my hips and thighs as I'd fiddled with the
ventilator in my office. 

Oh, how I love my shower massage.  Always there for me, always eager to
please me.  I'd wanted spend some time with it the night before but I was
just too exhausted, even though I'd been carrying a knot of sexual tension
around all day.  I don't own any toys, not even one of those
mini-vibrators that the pharmacy downstairs sells under the polite fiction
of soothing sore muscles, with a photograph on the package that showed a
woman running the phallic wand along her shoulder.  I suppose my shower
massage qualifies as a sex toy, especially in "pulsating" mode, but it had
been installed before I bought my condo.  The previous owner, a fifty-ish
divorcee, had slyly pointed it out when she showed me the place, but I
hadn't caught her innuendo at the time. 

I've learned not to bite my lip when I come.  That iron taste of blood
makes me ill.  I try to remember to cover my mouth since sound travels
pretty well in this building, especially in the bathrooms where the pipes
and ventilators seem to carry the whole range of bodily noises between
floors.  On this morning I didn't and I must have treated the Coopers
upstairs to an aria worthy of Maria Callas. 

Feeling weak as I shut off the water, I considered going back to bed and
calling in sick.  Powerful orgasms left me like that, rubber-legged and
trembling.  I wondered why my climax was so intense, whether it was from
all that pent-up tension or whether thinking of Marie had made it so.  As
I'd played the stream of water over my body, from my breasts down to my
cleft, I had imagined it was her instead of the massager, her fingertips,
her lips, her tongue. 

Once I'd caught my breath and gathered my strength, I dried myself off and
got dressed.  Since I was going to be naked at work again I could have
just thrown on some sweatpants and a t-shirt.  But I didn't.  Pride? 
Vanity?  I don't know.  I just like to look nice, even if no one but my
doorman and some commuters were going to see what I wore.  I put on the
grey Prada skirt suit, one I'd rarely worn since my kid sister Alix said
it made me look like Real Estate Barbie.  Alix had driven our parents nuts
with her piercings before she left for college.  It took a lot to tweak
Mom and Dad, but Alix managed to do it regularly. 

After a quick breakfast -- yogurt and blueberries, coffee -- I grabbed my
briefcase and headed to the elevator.  As the doors slid open, there were
the Coopers, Alice and Gabe, my upstairs neighbors.  I stepped in and
smiled politely.  They were both in their thirties, both lawyers, both
quite friendly.  We'd been on the same side of the parking controversy at
the last condo association board meeting and they'd invited me to their
apartment afterwards for a neighborly glass of wine.  I'd picked up a
strange vibe from them that night and retired early, excusing myself with
a pretend headache. 

"Good morning, Zoe," Alice chirped.

"Good morning," I replied.

"It's a very good morning, isn't it?" Gabe said.  Alice gave her husband
an elbow to the ribs and rolled her eyes. 

"I beg your pardon?"

"Lovely weather today," Alice said, somewhat nervously.

"Yes, it is," I said.  The weather was always lovely here.  It almost made
up for the brushfires and earthquakes. 

"We're having some friends over for a dinner party this Thursday," Alice
said.  "We'd love to have you over." 

"Thursday?  I'm not sure if I'm..."

"It would be nice if you could make it," Gabe added.

"I'll try," I said.  "Thanks."

The elevator opened on the lobby, cutting our conversation short.  The
Coopers stayed on, heading to the basement parking level.  I stepped off,
wishing them a nice day, though Gabe's cryptic "very good morning" comment
left a funny taste in my mouth. 

Since we'd gone out for drinks the night before, I'd left my car at the
office and took a taxi home, so I caught the bus into town.  It wasn't a
very long ride and I would have taken it more often, but I needed my car
for ferrying clients around and visiting properties.  The bus wasn't very
crowded and I took a seat by the window.  About ten minutes into the trip,
the bus passed Central High School and I could have sworn I saw two of the
students, a boy and a girl, taking off their clothes outside. 

At first I thought this was a hallucination, that my having to go naked at
work was making my mind play tricks on me.  Then I remembered The Program
and it's original intent, before Cal had perverted it into a sadistic
management technique.  So, Central had implemented The Program. 
Interesting.  I tried to keep up with the news, especially locally, since
zoning and land use regulations affected our business, but I couldn't
recall seeing anything in the paper or on TV. 

As I entered the office, Hazel gave me the smile I'd missed the previous
morning.  She'd been worried about Hal, her fiance, getting laid off. 
Today she was her usual sunny self.  She and Hal had hurried home the day
before, declining our invitation to have drinks.  I wondered if she'd made
good on her threat to keep Hal naked at home, her own personal Program. 

"Good morning, Zoe," she said, handing me a small stack of phone messages.

"Morning," I said, scanning the pink slips of paper.  "We missed you at
McPhersons." 

"Maybe next time," Hazel said.  "Hal and I had...um, we were busy last
night." 

"I can imagine."

"My God, Zoe," she said in a conspiratorial whisper, "I can hardly walk
this morning." 

"Lucky girl," I said, glad that she didn't elaborate.  Hazel sometimes
liked to give out a bit too much information about her and Harold's sex
life. 

"Aren't you still seeing that architect?"

"Old news," I replied.  "Not for a couple of months now."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Hazel said.  "We've got to find you a man, Zoe."

I'd be happy with Marie, I wanted to say.  I didn't, though.  There was
something inside me that felt as if our near kiss had been a momentary
aberration, a moment in time that was lost forever when Danielle had
knocked on my door. 

"Thanks for the messages, Hazel," I said, leaving the reception area and
heading for my office. 

"See you at lunch," she said.

The door to my office was open and a pair of denim-clad legs stuck out
from beneath my desk.  I didn't see them at first, not until I had started
unbuttoning my suit. 

"Ahem."  I tapped the sole of the mystery person's sneakers with the toe
of my shoe. 

There was a thumping sound underneath the desk, followed by a pained
"Ow!".  Roger appeared, rubbing the top of his head as he crawled
backwards on the carpet.  Though he was as thin as a twig, a distressing
amount of butt cleavage was visible between his jeans and his t-shirt. 

"Oh, hey Zoe."  He reached under my desk and pulled a bunch of dusty
cables and a bizarre-looking contraption that resembled a pair of pliers. 

"Is everything alright, Rog?"

"Yeah, yeah," he said, still rubbing the spot on his head where he'd hit
the underside of the desk.  "Well, no.  I mean, there was but I fixed it. 
I couldn't ping your host on the network and I thought it might have been
the router or the DHCP server but it was really a bad connection on
your..." 

"But it's fixed now, right?"  I'd long since learned that Roger's
explanations and diagnoses tended to reach Tolkienesque proportions if one
didn't cut him off after the first acronym. 

"Yes, of course," he said.  "Well, no.  I should try pinging your box..."

"That sounds pretty kinky, Rog.  Can't I just try to log on and get my
mail?  Wouldn't that tell us whether it's working or not?" 

"Um, well, yeah," he said.  "We could do that."  Poor Roger.  I could tell
he really wanted to "ping my box".  Probably the highlight of his morning.
 I sat down behind my desk and typed my user name and password and then
launched the e-mail program.  A dialog box appeared, followed by the
progress bar. 

"I think we're all set, Roger.  Thanks."

"Sure, Zoe.  Anytime."  He collected his tools and cables and turned to
leave my office.  "Oh, by the way...how did your plans go?" 

"My plans?"

"Last night.  You...you said you had plans?"

"Oh, right.  My plans.  I, err..."  Damn.  I'd forgotten that I had
declined Roger's e-mailed invitation to dinner the day before. 

"You did have plans, right?"

"Well..."

His expression went from a smile, proud that he'd fixed the network, to a
crestfallen frown.  I felt like a heel, guilty over hurting Roger's
feelings, and ashamed that I'd been caught in what was basically a lie. 
Damn it. 

"Rog, honey.  I'm really sorry but..."

"No, you don't have to apologize, Zoe.  I understand."

"No, I don't think you do," I said.  "Close the door and have a seat." 
Roger sat down across from my desk, dusty cables draped around his neck,
looking like a schoolboy that had just been summoned to the principal's
office. 

"In case you didn't know, yesterday was a pretty stressful day for me and
for a lot of people here.  Cheryl nearly had a nervous breakdown and I
wasn't doing much better.  I just wanted the day to end, have a drink, and
crawl into bed.  I'm afraid I wouldn't have been a very good dinner
companion.  Do you understand?" 

"I guess," he said.  "Why didn't you say this yesterday?"

"It was easier to lie, I suppose.  I'm sorry, Roger.  Really."

"Okay, thanks," he said as he started to get up from the chair.  "So, how
about tonight?" 

"Tonight?"

"Yeah.  Or do you have plans again?"

Oh, God no.  I really didn't want to go out with Roger but I felt trapped.
 "Be nice to Roger" was one of the things we told every new hire at the
company.  We were so dependent on our computers and the network for
everything that it seemed as if Roger was the power behind the throne. 
Was a couple of hours at dinner too big a price to pay? 

"How about Wednesday?" I said.  That would give me more than enough time
for me to get myself psyched up for this, get my affairs in order, and
write my will. 

"Wednesday is fine!  Yes!"  Roger almost pumped his fist in victory but
caught himself.  He was smiling proudly again as he turned to leave my
office.  I began to ponder all of the possibilities, all the ways this
dinner date could go horribly, horribly wrong.  Roger could show up in
that coffee-stained t-shirt, the one with the penguin on the front that he
wore so often.  Or worse, he'd be wearing his chain mail and armor.  I'd
better get a new laptop out of this, I thought. 

"Hey, Zoe."  Marie poked her head into my office.  As per The Program
according to Cal, she had stripped down to her panties and bra.  Yesterday
was black satin; today she wore red lace that matched her lipstick and
nails. 

"Good morning," I said, getting up from my desk.  "Nice undies, Marie."

"Thanks," she replied.  "You're still dressed?"

"I had to talk to Roger for a bit and I figured he'd pay better attention
if he wasn't drooling on himself."  As I stood up from my desk and
finished unbuttoning my suit jacket, Marie closed the door behind her. 

"What about?"  She leaned against the closed door and watched as I got
undressed, handing me a hanger for my skirt suit. 

"He, um, asked me out yesterday."

"He did?"

"Yeah, and I sort of got caught in a white lie.  I told him I was busy
last night." 

"Shame on you, Zoe," Marie said, laughing.  "I don't blame you at all. 
He's pretty cree..." 

"I'm going out to dinner with him," I said as I reached back to unfasten
my bra." 

"You are?  Zoe!"

"It's an act of mercy, Marie."

"I know, but still!  Roger?"

"Hey, he's not that bad.  Who knows?  Maybe he cleans up nicely."

"Damn, Zoe," Marie said.  "Are you that hard up?"

"Hey, he's a charity case.  When I die and go to Heaven they'll bump me up
to Business Class for this." 

"So when are you going out?  Tonight?"

"Tomorrow."

"Good," she said, slowly walking over to me.  I was just about to skin off
my panties when she approached, placing her hands on my hips.  I caught a
whiff of Obsession and my heart began to pound, just like it had the day
before. 

"I want to have you over for dinner tonight, Zoe," Marie said.  Her lips
brushed against mine, just the barest touch.  Like the wings of a
butterfly. 

"Yes," I whispered.  There was more I wanted to say, like how I'd thought
about her in the shower that morning, how I'd imagined the touch of her
hands, her lips, how confused I'd felt about all of this.  But I didn't
get the chance.  Marie pressed her lips against mine and I surrendered,
yielding to her, letting her take me in her arms.  I trembled in her
embrace, feeling as weak as I had after my date with Mr. Shower Massage
earlier that morning.  As her tongue sought mine, all I could think of was
how soft her lips were, how gentle her hands felt as they roamed up my
back, beneath my hair, her fingers grazing the back of my neck and sending
a chill down my spine that could have turned the Sahara into a ski resort. 

"Oh, my," I gasped as she broke off our kiss.  I hadn't felt like this
since I was a teenager. 

"Tonight," Marie whispered, planting the softest of kisses on my nose.

"Yes..."  My heart wouldn't stop fluttering.  I felt light-headed, dizzy. 
If it weren't for Marie's embrace, I would have collapsed on the carpet. 
I placed my hands on her waist, steadying myself.  Her skin was so soft,
so smooth.  I wanted nothing more than to have her guide me to the couch,
to lay me down, to feel her breasts against mine... 

That's when the door opened.

"Oh, geez.  Sorry, sorry..."  It was Dave, red-faced with embarrassment. 
He started to back out of the office. 

"Don't you knock?" Marie asked.  As we separated, her hand grazed my
breast, sending another arctic chill through my body. 

"I did!  I did!"

"Dave, come back," I called out.  "It's okay..."  He entered the room and
closed the door behind him.  Of all the people in the office who could
have caught Marie and I kissing, Dave was the one I knew would be the most
discreet.  He was the only openly gay male member of the sales staff. 

"Wow, you two," he said, grinning as he fanned his face with a file
folder.  "If I was a straight boy I'd be heading right for the bathroom
about now..."  He shook his fist sideways, mock masturbating. 

"You're terrible, Dave," Marie said, playfully punching him in the arm.

"What's up?" I asked him.

"The Old Man asked me to give you this to sign," he said, handing me the 
folder.  Inside was a purchase-and-sale agreement for the beach house. 
Price: $1. 

"He asked me to get a title search done by the end of the week," Dave
said.  "I'm not supposed to use National.  Any suggestions?"  National did
almost all of our title searches and abstracts. 

"Hang on a sec," I said, turning to rummage through my Rolodex.  I pulled
a card and handed it to Dave.  "Try these guys and if they can't get it
done this week let me know." 

"Cool.  Thanks," Dave said.  "Hey, one other thing..."

"What's that?"

"I always thought you guys would make a fabulous couple," Dave said,
giggling as he left my office.  Even I had to laugh at that. 

"Hey, Marie," I said as she headed for the door.  "Can I ask you
something?" 

"Sure."

"Yesterday, when we almost...I mean...how did you know?"

"How did I know what?" she said, looking puzzled.

"I mean, how did you know I wouldn't give you the brush-off?"

"I didn't," she said.  "I took a chance."  With that, she smiled and left
the room, leaving me even more confused than ever.  As I finished getting
undressed, I tried to shrug it off and concentrate on my work.  It wasn't
easy, not with the lingering scent of Marie's perfume in the office or the
taste of her lipstick on my lips. 

Danielle knocked on my door an hour later.  I was on the phone with Carmen
at Venona Brothers, one of our contractors, and Dani turned to leave but I
beckoned her to come in and have a seat. 

"Sorry, Zoe," she said.  "I didn't know you were on the phone."

"I was just getting off anyway," I said.  Carmen liked to gab and I was
happy to have an excuse to cut her off. 

"Have you been snogging someone, Zozo?"  Dani only called me "Zozo" when
she wanted to tease me about something. 

"What do you mean?"

"Your lipstick is smeared."

"It is?"  I reached for the compact in my handbag and opened it, looking
in the mirror.  It wasn't too bad, but it was obvious that I'd been
kissed.  I grabbed a tissue and wiped off the lipstick. 

"Who was it?"

"Dani..."

"Zoe, you know me.  It's not like I'm going to message everyone..."

"Dani, you have to promise..."

"Cross my heart, girlfriend."  She even traced an "X" across her breasts. 

I leaned across the desk and whispered "Marie".

"No!"

"Shhhh!"

"Damn, Zoe.  Who are you?"

"Dani, I don't even know right now."  In a way, I was relieved to have
someone to confide in, to share my confusion.  I told her what had
happened the day before, how Marie had held my hips as I stood on the
chair to fiddle with the vent, what had happened that morning, how Dave
had caught us as Danielle almost had the day before. 

"I thought something was going on yesterday," Dani said.

"Well, actually nothing happened until today."

"But still," she said.  "What are you going to do?"

"I'm having dinner with her tonight."

"You are?  Have you ever...?"

"Never.  Have you?"

"Nope," she said.  "So what's this I hear about you and Roger?"

"Where'd you hear that?"  News travels faster than light in this office.

"I heard him say something about taking you out when I was in the copier
room." 

"He did?  No way."

"Way."

Now I had to tell Dani about my date with Roger the Geek on Wednesday.  By
the time I finished explaining the lie I'd told and how I expected this to
be the Date From Hell, she was laughing hysterically, tears in her eyes. 

"You are so fucked, Zozo."

"I know.  Thanks for not laughing."

"I can't help it, honey.  You're Miss Popularity now.  And to think, all
it took was flashing a little skin.  Maybe I should try this Program
thing." 

"Laugh now," I said.  "Because next week, when Cal asks you to strip, I'll
be the one laughing at that big ol' butt." 

"Better than your skinny white ass," Dani laughed.  I laughed too, but out
of relief that Dani had accepted the news that I was I'd kissed Marie.  No
judgment, nothing more than a gentle teasing.  Like a best friend should. 

After Dani left the office for her 11AM meeting with a client, I ventured
out in search of Roger.  I found him in the server room, a small office
that housed a rack of computers, panels festooned with cables leading to
and fro, and a tiny desk with a keyboard and an oversized monitor.  He was
hunched over in his chair, rocking slightly and humming softly as he madly
typed away.  He didn't hear me approach until I leaned over and wrapped my
arms around his chest, pressing my breasts into his back. 

"Huh!  Who?  Wha...?"

"Roger, honey," I cooed.

"Zoe?"

"Yes, Rog.  It's Zoe.  I want to get something straight with you."  I
pulled him away from the desk, the wheels of his chair gliding silently on
the tiled floor.  Then I spun his chair around and straddled his lap, just
as I'd done with Sid Dorfmann the day before.  If Roger had been this
close to a naked woman before you'd never have known it from the way his
eyes nearly left their sockets. 

"Get something straight...?" Roger said, his lower lip quivering like a
wounded animal. 

"If you want me to go out with you tomorrow, you need to listen to what
I'm going to tell you." 

"Okay."

"For every person you tell now, before it happens, I'll make sure everyone
knows how it went.  Every embarrassing detail, whether it actually
happened or not.  Understand?" 

"But...but Zoe, I..."

"First of all, no fast food.  No Arby's, no Denny's, no Burger King, no
McDonalds.  If the place doesn't have tablecloths and a decent wine list,
you're eating alone.  Got it, Roger?" 

"Yes, but..."  Despite his trapped animal expression, I could feel
something growing in Roger's jeans. 

"And another thing, Rog.  You need to look presentable.  Wear this Linux
t-shirt and I walk.  What the fuck is Linux anyway?  Some sort of bug
spray?" 

"It's an operating sys..."

"Who cares, Roger.  I certainly don't.  If you don't wear a suit that
costs at least as much as my shoes..." 

"Okay, okay," Roger said.  "I get it..."

"And by suit, I don't mean armor or chain mail or a kilt."  Though I did
think men in kilts could be especially sexy -- think Sean Connery -- Roger
in tartan would have looked like a transvestite schoolgirl. 

"Of course not.  I'd never..."

"One last thing," I said, running my fingers through his long, stringy
hair.  "Grooming.  Somewhere in this rat's nest is a nice hairstyle
screaming to come out.  Do you understand, Roger?" 

"Yes, Zoe.  I do."

And with that, I pressed my lips against his, kissing him harder than
Marie had done to me.  He resisted at first and then he relaxed.  I felt
his hands on my hips, sliding upwards, and when they'd almost reached my
breasts I broke off our kiss and got up from his lap.  Roger's breath
hadn't been as unpleasant as I'd expected, just the familiar taste of a
double espresso from the coffee place in the lobby of our building.  His
face was flushed, his eyes glazed, and my there were traces of my lipstick
on his lips. 

"Meet me at McPherson's tomorrow at 8," I said.

"Okay," he murmured.  Poor boy.  He never knew what hit him.

On my way back through the cubicles, I crossed paths with Cal.  On his way
to see the Old Man, no doubt. 

"Good morning, Zoe," he said, leering at my breasts.

"Panties."

"What?"

"You're wearing panties right now, Cal."  Laying down the law on Roger had
left me in a weird mood, just like that kickboxing class when I managed to
flatten the instructor, leaving him on the mat with a bleeding lip.  I
felt invincible, something I didn't feel often enough. 

"Zoe..."

"I'm guessing pink with white lace trim, right?"

"Your lipstick is smeared," Cal hissed.

"So's yours," I replied.  Cal brought his hand to his face, an instinctive
movement I'd guessed.  He blushed and scuttled off in the direction of the
Old Man's office as peals of laughter resounded throughout the cubicles. 
I turned to face my audience of prairie dogs and bowed, earning a
smattering of applause. 

Behind my closed office door, I let out a deep breath.  Aggressive
behavior didn't come naturally to me.  Despite the fact that I wasn't
raised traditionally, that Barbie dolls and an EZ-Bake oven weren't a part
of my childhood toybox, my parents had treated competition as an anathema,
aggression as pathological.  Yet these were the very traits I needed to
thrive in this business.  Somehow, somewhere, I'd learned to cope in this
environment, but up until now, bullying Roger and belittling Cal, I hadn't
felt right about it. 

Now I felt exhilarated, energized.  I went to my desk and sat down,
pulling up my contact manager on the computer.  For the next two hours,
until it was time for lunch, I made fourteen calls, arranging six meetings
and five visits to sites.  I felt on top of my game, in The Zone, and only
the knock on my door shook me out of my spell. 

"Hey, we're getting Thai for lunch," Larry said.  "Want in?"

"Yellow curry," I said, reaching for my purse.  I handed Larry a $10 bill
and thanked him, knowing that for the rest of the week my co-workers were
going to spare me the indignity of having to get my lunch in my birthday
suit.  There was still the matter of going to off-site meetings and
visiting sites naked, but I'd deal with that when the time came.  Right
now I was Zoe, Realtor Goddess.  I could deal with anything. 

After I finished entering all of my upcoming meetings and appointments
into our contact manager, I needed to use the bathroom.  I'd have taken a
quick trip to the ladies room if Cal hadn't been lurking around the
office.  Dani wasn't around to stand guard but the door since she still
wasn't back from her 11 o' clock meeting but I decided to take a chance
with the men's room anyway. 

Trina, one of our clerk/typists, was covering Hazel's reception desk.  She
was a little cutie, with spiky hair and a button nose, reminding me of my
kid sister.  She smiled as I walked past her desk and into the lobby. 

Inside the men's room, I heard a familiar sound coming from inside one of
the stalls.  It was Cheryl, moaning and gasping as she had the previous
morning.  

Except she wasn't alone.  I could hear a distinctly male grunting, too,
and the slapping sound of skin on skin.  Quietly tiptoeing over to the
stall, I peeked through the gap between the door and the metal panel. 

There was a man with her but it wasn't one of the janitors.  This person
was wearing a starched white shirt, its tail flapping over his ass as he
pounded her from behind.  His tie was draped over his shoulder, keeping it
from picking up any telltale stains, and his pants were down around his
ankles.  Cheryl was facing the wall, her hands pressed against the tiles
like someone who'd just been arrested. 

"Fuh...fuck me...fuck me, Garry,"  Cheryl gasped as she pushed her ass
back to meet his strokes.  I knew it was Garrick when I saw his shaved
head. 

Just then, Cheryl began to come, screaming so loudly that I wondered if
they could be heard in the lobby.  Garry tightened his grip on her hips
and pumped her faster, harder, the tail of his shirt flapping like a flag
in a gale wind. 

"I'm gonna...gonna..."  His hips began to stutter, a hitch in his rhythm.

"Don't come in me," Cheryl rasped, her voice hoarse from her cries of
pleasure.  As Garry pulled out of her and stepped back, Cheryl turned
around and sat on the toilet, leaning forward and pouncing on his
glistening cock, engulfing it with her mouth and sucking him madly.  He
let out an "Ahhhh..." and I could see her throat moving as she swallowed
his semen.  When Garrick shifted slightly, cutting off my view, I quietly
slipped into the stall next to them. 

I heard a quiet "slurp" and then the sound of a kiss.  Beneath the wall of
the stall, I could see Garrick's hands as he pulled up his trousers and
boxers. 

"Thanks, Garry," Cheryl said.  There was the sound of a belt buckle and a
zipper, and then the soft snap of the elastic waistband of her pantyhose. 

"I should be thanking you, Cher," he said.  More rustling of clothes, the
click of her heels as she stood up, and then another kiss.  They left the
stall together and I heard the sound of running water coming from one of
the sinks. 

Damn.  I came here to pee, but I really wanted to wait until they'd left. 
No sense in letting them know there was a witness.  Sitting on the toilet,
I tried to hold back, but the sound of the water got the better of me.  I
let go of my bladder with a sigh. 

As I left the stall, Cheryl was leaning against the sink, smoking a
cigarette.  I smiled sheepishly and went over to wash my hands. 

"I thought it might be you, Zoe."

"How'd you know?"

"I saw your shoes," she said, flicking ash from her cigarette into the
sink. 

"You know I won't say anything about this, Cheryl."

"Doesn't matter," she said, taking another drag from her cigarette and
tilting her head back as she exhaled the smoke.  "I found out Marty is
having an affair last night." 

"He is?"  Martin was her husband, a plastic surgeon and a handsome guy. 
"Cheryl, I'm sorry..." 

"Don't be," she said.  "Yeah, I cried my eyes out for an hour after I
found the e-mails, but now I just don't care.  After that fucking I just
got from Garrick I'm even happy that I found out.  Sauce for the goose..." 

"He's married, too," I said.  "Isn't he?"

"Separated, or so he says.  Whether it's true or not, I'm not going to
lose any sleep over it."  Cheryl threw her cigarette into one of the
urinals.  "Come on.  Larry should be back with the food by now.  I'm
starving." 

As we left the men's room and entered the lobby, the ladies room door
opened.  Hal and Hazel staggered out, holding each other by the waist. 
Her clothes were all askew and there was a damp spot on the front of his
boxer briefs. 

"Hey, guys," Hazel said with a devilish smile.  Cheryl giggled and Hal
managed a weak grin. 

"We need an office with a bed," Cheryl laughed.

"Oh, totally," Hazel said.  "I forgot how hard it is to fuck standing up
in heels." 

We had our lunch in the conference room as usual.  Dani had returned from
her meeting and was squeezing lime on her container of pad thai.  Larry
passed over my yellow curry and I took a seat at the table.  Hal and Hazel
had opted for Thai food, as had Marie and Cheryl, but Woody stuck with his
usual deli sandwich.  For the next few minutes the only sounds were
chopsticks and chewing. 

"So, I'm meeting a client off-site," I said.  The eating sounds ceased,
just as I knew they would.  Danielle was the first to speak. 

"You're kidding," she said.  "This is a joke, right?"

"Nope."

"Who with?" Marie asked.

"Coleman Medical," I said.  "This afternoon at two."

"Marc Coleman?  He's a gynecologist, isn't he?" Woody asked.  "I think
Terry goes to him." 

"Guess he needs more orifice space," Larry quipped, prompting Hazel to
mock-stab him with her chopsticks. 

"You're awful," she giggled.

"There's something ironic about this, I guess," Dani said.

"I'm not sure it's irony," Cheryl said.  "Poetic justice?"

"Naw, poetic justice would be Cal, a speculum, and a greased latex glove,"
I said, making a fist.  Hal passed a mouthful of Thai iced tea through his
nose and started coughing wetly. 

"I don't know who's worse," Hazel said as she helped Hal wipe iced tea
from his lap.  "You or Larry." 

"Want me to come along, Zoe?" Danielle said.  "I'm free this afternoon."

"Yeah, in case he tries to 'stirrup' some trouble," Larry said.

"Thanks, but I should be fine," I said.

Cal was waiting in my office after lunch, seated behind my desk, clicking
through my contact manager.  He barely acknowledged my presence when I
entered the room. 

"Is there something I can help you with?" I said.

"So, you've got a two o' clock," he said.  "Good, good."

"Would you please leave my office?" I said, my hands on my hips.  "You're
making my skin crawl." 

"Fine," he said, getting up from behind my desk and heading for the door. 
"Oh, by the way, they're black." 

"What's black?"

"The panties I'm wearing," Cal said.  With that, he left my office.  I
slammed my door shut behind him. 

Right before I was about to leave for my meeting, there was a knock on my
office door.  It was Trina, holding her backpack in her arms. 

"I heard you're going off to a site," she said.

"In a few minutes, yes."

"Here," she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small black
object, roughly the size of a cigarette pack.  "Take this." 

"What is it?" I said.  There was a wrist strap, a red button on one side,
and two stubby metal prongs on the end. 

"It's my stun gun," Trina said.  "Just in case.  Be careful with it,
though." 

"Why do you carry this?"

"Long story," she replied.  "Last year I was nearly..."  She didn't have
to finish her sentence.  The look in her eyes said enough. 

"I see.  Thanks, Trina, but I don't think..."

"Please, take it.  Keep it handy.  I can get it back from you later."  She
closed her bag and left. 

I hefted the stun gun in my hand; it felt surprisingly heavy for something
so small.  What the heck.  Better to have it and not need it... 

Down in our building's basement parking garage, I began to see why Trina
had lent me her stun gun.  The garage was creepy at the best of times, and
now it seemed especially dark and shadowy.  I was wearing nothing but my
heels and my handbag.  To say that I felt vulnerable would have been a
gross understatement. 

In the safety of my car I was glad that I'd chosen the double-tinted
window option.  The attendant in the booth didn't even take a second look
as he punched the big red button that opened the garage doors.  As I
headed out for my meeting, I shut off the air conditioner and opened the
sun roof.  The last time I'd driven Gretel, my BMW, I'd been wearing
clothes.  As the warm breeze caressed my skin I felt a tinge of regret for
selling Hansel, my old VW convertible.  Even though I'd probably have
caused a series of traffic accidents, the slipstream would have felt nice
against my bare skin. 

I'd chosen Dr. Coleman for my first nude off-site meeting for a reason. 
For one thing, he was a medical professional.  I didn't think he'd act
like Sid Dorfmann, asking for a lap dance.  I felt I could trust him not
to do anything inappropriate.  Second, he was married.  Yes, I know that
this isn't always an obstacle for some men, but I felt it would be for
Marc Coleman.  Finally, we'd developed a good rapport over the six months
that I'd been working his account. 

Dr. Coleman's SUV was parked in the lot, which was conspicuously devoid of
the contractors' pickups and vans that usually accompanied a build-out. 
There had been a problem procuring some of the special materials his
practice required, and construction was on hold until these problems were
ironed out.  His last office had been peppered with gunfire and firebombed
twice, even though he'd didn't perform outpatient abortions there.  For
his new office, he'd specified bulletproof windows and a reinforced
facade, along with various alterations to make the structure more secure. 

I pulled into the lot and parked next to his Explorer, wondering if he'd
had to have it armored as well.  As I stepped out of my car I could see
him on his cell phone, taking notes on a small pad.  He did a double-take
when he saw me and cut his phone conversation short. 

"Good afternoon, Doctor," I said, extending my hand.

"Zoe," he said, looking me up and down as he shook my hand.  "Have you
forgotten something?  Clothes, perhaps?" 

"It's a long story," I said.  "I'll tell you inside."  I pulled the keys
to the side door from my bag and we entered the building.  Once off the
street, I explained The Program briefly. 

"You know, I heard something about that," he said, laughing to himself. 
"My sister's kids go to Central High.  Heard them talking about it last
week." 

"Really?  So they're...?"

"Not if my sister has any say in the matter."  Dr. Coleman chuckled.

We headed up the back stairs to the main floor.  None of the drywall work
had been done yet but the skeleton of metal studs and doorways implied the
warren of examination rooms that would soon take shape.  Dr. Coleman
placed his briefcase on a sheet of plywood held up by two sawhorses and
pulled out a copy of the blueprints, spreading them out and examining
them. 

"I can try to get the architect down here if you'd like," I said.

"No, that's okay," he replied.  "This is my third office in ten years. 
I've learned how to read these things." 

I was secretly glad that I didn't have to call the architect down to the
site.  The person who'd drafted these plans was my ex-boyfriend and it
would have been terribly awkward to have him see me like this. 

As we walked through the unfinished office I could see Dr. Coleman trying
to picture what it would look like when it was completed.  Every so often,
when he'd turn to look at the work from another perspective, his gaze
would fall on me, starting between my legs and moving upwards until we
were making eye contact.  Then he'd smile and quickly look down at the
plans he was holding.  I realized that though the doctor was a
professional, he was still a man, with a man's urges. 

I had to admit that I had my own urges, too.  I began to see Dr. Coleman
not as a client but as an attractive forty-ish gentleman.  Handsome, fit,
tanned, well coifed and well dressed.  Married.  Just to remind myself
that all of the good ones were taken, the next time he spread out the
blueprints I looked for his wedding ring. 

It wasn't there.  Nor was that tell-tale band of pale skin, meaning that
he hadn't worn it in a while. 

We inspected the site for another half-hour, after which he let me know
that everything was coming along to his satisfaction.  He had a couple of
minor changes he wanted done, but that was the architect's concern.  We
headed back down the stairs to the parking lot. 

"So, how's the family?" I asked as I unlocked the back door.  Small talk
like this was part of the job, part of maintaining a relationship with the
client. 

"Maggie and I got divorced," he said.

"I'm sorry to hear that."  I said, pausing before opening the door.

"It's okay," he said.  "For the most part it was amicable."

"Still, it must be hard on the kids."

"We never had any," Dr. Coleman said.  "Even after we both went into
private practice." 

"She's a doctor, too?"

"Obstetrician.  That's how we met, doing our residence at Caritas."

There was a pregnant pause and I had the feeling that small talk was over.
As I opened the door to let ourselves out I felt his hand on the small of
my back, just resting there. 

"Wait a second, Zoe," he said.  "I'd like to ask you something."

"Sure," I said, closing the door.

"Would it be appropriate for me to take you to dinner some time?"

"Appropriate?"

"We have a business relationship," Dr. Coleman said.  "Does Foley have any
rules against that sort of thing?" 

"No, not at all, Dr. Coleman."

"Call me Marc."

"Okay, Marc," I said.  I really hadn't expected this.  "Could I ask you
something?" 

"Please."

"Would you have asked me out if I wasn't naked?"

"In a heartbeat," he said without hesitating.  Good answer.

"I'm free Friday," I said.

"That's great.  I'll call you later in the week to firm things up."  He
took my hand and gently squeezed it before we headed out into the parking
lot.  I locked the door behind us and watched as he got into his SUV and
drove off, waving as he left the parking lot.  I stepped into my car and
sat for a minute, thinking about Marc, Marie, and even Roger.  My dating
life had been feast or famine, but even at the best of times I'd never had
so much attention.  I couldn't help but think that going without clothes
had a lot to do with it but there was something more, something new.  I
felt vulnerable and confident at the same time.  The Program was changing
me in ways I didn't quite understand. 

I drove back to the office with the sunroof open and all of my windows
down, not caring that anyone and everyone could see me naked.  The wind
felt wonderful as it brushed against my breasts.  Only once did someone
acknowledge my nudity, a trucker who blew his air horn before taking the
next exit. 

Our office parking garage had a key-card entry system, so I didn't have to
interact with the attendant in the booth.  I parked in my usual space and
grabbed my handbag, taking out Trina's stun gun just in case.  After being
out in the bright sunlight, the garage's shadows looked even darker and
more menacing than before. 

"You were in with him for a long time."  Cal's voice echoed through the
concrete cavern.  He stepped out of the shadows and into the dim
fluorescent light. 

"You followed me?"

"Was it a blow job, Zoe?" Cal said, slowly coming closer.  "Or did he fuck
you on that dusty concrete floor?" 

"You bastard..."  I started to back away but he closed the gap.

"Tell me, Zoe," he said, grabbing my arm.  "I want to hear about it.  What
was his cock like?  Was it big?  Did it taste good?"  The more I tried to
get away from him, the more he tightened his grip on my arm. 

"Go fuck yourself."  With my free hand, I pressed the stun gun to his
crotch and pushed the button on the side.  There was a sharp blue flash
and a puff of smoke that had the acrid smell of burning hair.  Cal
released his grip on my arm and fell to the ground, doubled over and
writhing in pain. 

"You bitch," he groaned.  "You fucking bitch."

I thought about shocking him again, maybe even kicking him a few times,
but instead I ran to the elevator and mashed the button so hard that one
of my nails cracked.  It arrived before Cal could get to his feet.  As the
door closed he was on his knees, smiling at me. 

He liked it, I thought.  That sick fuck liked getting zapped in the groin.
The elevator opened up on our floor and I stepped out, striding past
Hazel without saying a word, past the cubicles, past my office, right to
the Old Man.  Darla called out to me as I flung open his door.  Empty. 

"He's playing golf, Zoe," Darla said as I walked back out.  "Is something
wrong, dear?" 

"No, nothing," I said, heading into my office and slamming the door shut. 
I sat down on the couch and felt my adrenaline kick in, a delayed
reaction.  Not that I really had anything to fear from Cal, at least not
physically.  But he had the Old Man's ear right now and despite the deal
I'd cut with Ed and the Dorfmann contract I could still find myself out on
the street after this week.  I took a deep breath and tried to keep my
hands from shaking.  I realized that I was still holding Trina's stun gun
and I dropped it on the couch. 

There was a knock at my door.  I almost didn't answer it, thinking it
might be Cal, but it wasn't.  Danielle and Hazel saw me shaking like a
leaf, concerned expressions on their faces. 

"Zoe, honey.  Are you okay?" Dani asked as she sat down next to me.  "Did
something happen with Coleman?" 

"No, that went well," I said.  "But Cal followed me and grabbed me in the
garage." 

"That bastard," Dani said.

"Did he try to...?" Hazel asked.  She handed me her bottle of Evian.

"No, it wasn't that," I replied, taking a big gulp of Hazel's water.  "I'm
not sure what he wanted.  He just wouldn't let go.  I had to zap him with
this."  I held up the stun gun. 

"Where'd you get that?" Dani asked.

"Trina lent it to me.  I gave it to him right in the crotch."

"We should all get one of those," Hazel said.  "Give him a shock every
time we see him." 

"Behavioral modification," Dani said.  "Are you sure you're okay Zoe?"

"Yes, I'm fine," I said.  "If you see that bastard, Hazel, let me know."

"I will," she said.  "Should I call the cops, too?"

"I don't think that's necessary.  Not yet, at least."

"Whatever you say," Hazel said.  "I'll tell Trina, too."

"Thanks, hon."  She left to head back to the reception area.  Danielle and
I sat in silence for a while. 

"What do you want to do, Zoe?"

"I want him out of here, out of our company, out of my life," I said. 
"Out of the state if possible." 

"How are we going to do that?" Dani said.

"I don't know," I replied.  "Humiliation won't work.  He thrives on that. 
He even got off on getting zapped.  You should have seen the smile on his
face." 

"Sick," she said.  "Are you thinking of hurting him?"

"No, no, no.  Nothing illegal.  I don't even want to talk about that."

"Then what?"

"It'll come to me.  Something will come to me."

"Whatever happens, Zoe," Dani said, taking my hand, "I'm with you.  You
need to bury something?  I'll bring the shovel." 

"Thanks, Dani."  I turned and wrapped my arms around her, happy to have
such a good friend. 

"I've got a 4 o' clock meeting," she said.  "Call me on my cell if you
need me." 

"Thanks again."  We hugged each other and she left.  I had work to do,
calls to make, no time to dwell on what had happened.  I knew Cal was just
trying to push my buttons, to test my limits.  Unfortunately for him,
today it backfired.  Next time it might not.  I had to be prepared. 

At the end of the day, after I'd gotten dressed, I sought out Trina,
returning her stun gun.  She checked the charge, pressing the red button,
making an electric blue arc curve between the metal studs. 

"Thanks, hon.  You're a lifesaver," I said.

"I heard it came in handy today," she said, slipping the stun gun into her
backpack.  "Glad to help." 

"I owe you one," I said.  "Want to get a drink?  On me."  I wasn't going
to meet Marie for another couple of hours or so, and I felt like a drink
or two to keep me from turning into a nervous wreck. 

"I'm only nineteen, Zoe," Trina said.

"McPherson's won't card you, not if I'm buying."

"Okay, thanks," she said.  "Let me finish what I'm doing first."

Ten minutes later we were at McPherson's, in a back booth, watching as the
after-work crowd filtered in to the place.  Trina was nursing a light beer
and I was sipping white wine.  I'd resisted the urge to have something
stronger, since I didn't want to be too tipsy when I showed up at Marie's
place later. 

"I gotta hand it to you, Zoe," Trina said.  "I wouldn't have the guts to
walk around the office naked." 

"Really, it's no big deal for me," I said.  "I used to do it a lot when I
was younger." 

"You did?  How young were you" she asked.

I told Trina about my parents, about how casual nudity was the norm around
the house.  I don't know why I confided this secret to her; maybe it was
because she sort of reminded me of my kid sister.  Trina shared Alix's
punky, cute looks.  She had Alix's laugh, too. 

"So that asshole didn't know about that?" she giggled.  "Cool!"

"Cal didn't know but the Old Man did."

"You told the boss?"

"Well," I said, wondering if I'd said too much.  "There was this business
trip..."  I didn't want to tell her what had happened, but I suppose my
expression betrayed me. 

"No!  You didn't!  You slept with the Old Man?"

I didn't say yes.  I didn't say no.  I guess my Mona Lisa smile spoke for
me. 

"Damn, Zoe," Trina said, leaning closer.  "What was it like?"

"I was pretty drunk at the time, Trina.  I barely remember it."

Trina looked disappointed.  She wanted details, dirt, dish.  I'm not sure
I'd tell her even if I could remember such things.  That's when she
grabbed her backpack and excused herself to go to the ladies room.  A
couple of minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, I saw someone
approach.  Before I could even register his face I saw a pair of burn
marks on the crotch of his trousers. 

"You ruined one of my best suits," Cal said, sliding into the booth.  He
was drinking what looked like a double bourbon, at least the remains of
one. 

"And your favorite panties, too?" I said.

"They're not my favorites," Cal said, "but thanks for your concern about
my undergarments." 

"You liked it, didn't you?"

"I did, Zoe."

"That doesn't change the fact that I felt threatened back there."

"I wasn't going to do that," he said.  "I have a great deal of respect for
you, Zoe." 

"You have one fucking funny way of showing it, Cal."

He just smiled at that and drained the last of his drink.  As he turned to
summon the waitress for another, Trina pressed the stun gun to his neck. 
Cal froze. 

"Know what this is, scumbag?" she said.

"Err, yeah.  Intimately."

"Don't zap him, Trina," I said.  "At least not yet.  Look at me, Cal."

Cal slowly turned to face me.

"How long is your contract with the company?" I asked him.

"Three months," he replied.  "Standard."

"Terms?"

"Fifty grand up front, five per week plus expenses, anywhere between
thirty and one hundred thousand at the back end, depending on which
milestones have been met." 

"I'm working for the wrong people," I said.  "Buyout clause?"

"Depends on what point."

"Let's say, oh, end of this week.  How much?"

"Ballpark, 120K."

"Is everything okay here?" the waitress said.  She was staring at Trina's
stun gun, still pressed against Cal's neck. 

"Everything's fine," Cal replied.  "We're just having a friendly
conversation." 

"Can I get you another drink, sir?"

"Please," he said.  "And whatever these lovely ladies are having."

The waitress looked at me for confirmation.  I nodded.

"It hurts more if you wet the electrodes first," the waitress said to
Trina as she took away Cal's empty glass.  Trina could barely suppress a
giggle. 

"I know what you're thinking, Zoe," Cal said.  "Only Foley can terminate
my contract.  Taking up a collection in the office won't work." 

"Take a seat, Trina," I said.  "We don't want to get kicked out of here." 
She lowered the stun gun and sat down next to me, keeping it in her hand
instead of putting it back in her bag. 

"I wasn't thinking about that, Cal," I said.  "I just wanted to know how
much you're ripping off from the company." 

"I get results with The Program, Zoe.  I've got the numbers to back it
up." 

"Have you ever worked in sales, Cal?"

"No, but..."

"Or commercial real estate?"

"No.  Still..."

"And yet you think you can come in to our company and turn things around
by humiliating the sales staff?" 

"It's been proven to..."

"Zap him, Trina."

She would have, too, if the waitress hadn't returned with our drinks just
then. 

"A toast," Cal said, raising his glass.  "To success."

"I have a different toast," I said.  "To seeing you moaning on the floor
of the garage." 

"I'll drink to that," Trina said.

Cal took this as his cue to leave.  He staggered over to the bar with his
drink, taking a stool next to a willowy blonde woman who was nursing a
martini.  She immediately picked up her drink and shifted to another seat,
leaving a six-foot buffer zone between them. 

Trina and I finished our drinks and I excused myself, telling her I had a
dinner date but not letting on with whom.  She thanked me for the beer and
headed off towards the bus stop while I hailed a cab to take me to Marie's
place. 

Marie lived in a funky old building, a former factory that had been
converted to loft spaces, nestled in a neighborhood of small single-family
homes and light industrial properties.  I rang her apartment from the
lobby and she answered on the intercom, buzzing me into the building. 
Though the whole place had been refurbished down to the bare brick and
wood, the structure  still bore a faint aroma of machine oil and sawdust. 

"Hi, Zoe," she said, greeting me at the heavy steel door that led to her
loft.  "Glad you could make it."  She was wearing a slinky black sheath
dress that flattered her figure. 

"Thanks," I said, stepping inside.  "That's a lovely dress."

"Thank you, Zoe," she said, taking my handbag and setting it down on the
table next to the door.  A moment later we were locked in an embrace,
kissing as we had that morning in my office. 

"Hungry?" she asked me.

"Very," I replied.

"Let's have a drink first, okay?"

Marie poured two glasses of white wine and gave me the tour of the place. 
There was a loft area on one side of the space, a sleeping area above,
kitchen and bathroom below.  The remainder was a large, open space with
tall windows on one side that gave an expansive view of the skyline.  It
was sparsely furnished, just a table, some chairs, a pair of couches, and
an exercise bike. 

"My boyfriend and I bought this place a few years ago," Marie said.  "He
was an artist and needed the space for his sculptures.  After he left for
the East Coast last year I bought out his share.  Took me months to get
the marble dust out of the floorboards." 

"It's a nice place," I said.  My own apartment wasn't exactly small, but
Marie's loft made it seem like a closet. 

We sat on the couch and I filled Marie in on the events of the day.  She'd
been out of the office after lunch and hadn't heard about Cal and the stun
gun.  At first she had a concerned expression, but when I got to the part
where I zapped him her face relaxed from a frown to a sly smile.  By the
time I finished telling her what had taken place at the bar, Marie was
laughing so hard that she almost spilled her wine. 

"Don't you almost feel sorry for that asshole?" she said.

"Almost," I replied.  "But not quite."

"You're right about one thing," Marie said.  "Humiliating him won't work. 
He seems to eat it right up." 

"I know.  I'm trying to think of some way to get rid of him."

"Zoe," Marie said, almost in a whisper.  "I know some people from my old
neighborhood who could take care of..." 

"I don't want to know about it," I said.  "It's got to be legal."

"Yeah, you're right.  Forget I ever said anything."

As we sat together on the couch, talking and sipping wine, Marie ran her
fingers along the length of my arm, caressing my shoulder, lightly grazing
the back of my neck with her fingernails.  I felt that familiar chill
running down my spine, raising goosebumps on my skin.  Anticipation was
gnawing at my belly, competing with my hunger.  I wanted nothing more than
to feel her lips on mine again, but this was uncharted territory for me. 

"Let's eat, shall we?" Marie said.  I followed her into the open kitchen
where she poured me another glass of wine.  She declined my offer of help
so I watched as she whipped up a risotto with shrimp and snow peas from
ingredients she'd prepared earlier.  Less than twenty minutes later we
were seated at the table, dining by candlelight. 

"This is amazing," I said over a forkful of creamy rice and shrimp. 
"Where did you learn to cook like this?" 

"Papa owned a restaurant," Marie said.  "I used to help out in the
kitchen.  More salad, Zoe?" 

"No thanks," I replied.  I'd been a bit tipsy after four glasses of wine
on an empty stomach but dinner had sobered me up a bit. 

Dessert was a rich cheesecake, along with espresso and a shot of Sambuca
with a coffee bean floating in the glass.  Afterwards, I helped Marie
clear the table, stacking the plates and flatware in the dishwasher while
pots and pans soaked in the sink.  She took the candle from the table and
brought it into the open living area of the loft, putting on some soft
jazz on the stereo. 

"Would you dance with me, Zoe?"

"I'd love to."  We shucked off our heels and met in the middle of the open
space, holding each other and slowly swaying to the music.  The flickering
candlelight made our shadows dance against the brick walls and wooden
beams. 

I let Marie lead me, guiding me along the floor, letting her press her
lips against my shoulder, my neck, my lips.  By the time our tongues met
and melded together I thought I'd come just from kissing.  We'd given up
all pretense of dancing at this point, simply holding each other and
kissing.  For the first time in two days, I wished I wasn't wearing any
clothes. 

"Let's go to bed, Zoe."  Marie broke off our embrace and took my hand,
leading me up the spiral staircase to her sleeping area.  It wasn't
enclosed like a bedroom, just a low wall topped with a wooden railing, the
only illumination coming from the candle down below.  Marie had an
oversized futon on a low platform bed and I wondered how she'd managed to
bring it up here. 

"Would you unzip me, please?" she said, turning around and pulling her
raven hair aside.  I tugged at the zipper on her dress, slowly dragging it
down as I leaned forward and kissed the back of her neck.  Marie sighed
and let the dress fall from her shoulders.  I held her from behind,
caressing her smooth belly, intoxicated by her scent. 

"Let me do you," she whispered, turning around in my arms.  Marie kissed
me briefly and began to unbutton my blouse, kissing my exposed skin.  I
shrugged off my blouse as Marie unzipped my skirt and then she reached
behind me and unhooked my bra.  Before I could get a chance to undo hers,
she'd taken off her bra, pressing her bare breasts against mine as we
kissed again.  I was trembling now, my hands shaking as they roamed over
her silken skin. 

"Nervous, Zoe?"

"Marie," I whispered.  "I've never..."

"I know," she said, dipping her hands inside the back of my panties, her
thigh interposed between mine.  I could feel the heat of her sex through
the crotch of her underwear.  "Just relax..." 

As Marie kissed my neck, my collarbone, my breast, I took a deep breath
and let it out, gasping softly as her lips found my nipple.  She suckled
it, making it stiffen and crinkle, sending another wave of chills down my
spine.  Then I felt her fingers tugging at the waistband of my panties,
slowly drawing them down my thighs.  I stepped out of them, somewhat
unsteadily, trying not to fall over.  Marie led me over to the bed and I
laid down, watching as she skinned off her thong. 

"You're beautiful," I whispered as Marie stretched out on top of me.  She
was slender, petite, as small on top as I was, with pale skin that seemed
to glow in the dim candlelight of her loft.  I'd never looked at another
woman this way; it was like looking at the world through new eyes. 

"So are you, Zoe," she cooed as she brushed my hair away from my face. 
"I've had the biggest crush on you, ever since I came to work there." 
Marie had been hired six months before, when I was still seeing the
architect. 

"It must have been hard to see me with Taylor," I said.

"You have no idea," she replied, gently cupping my breast in her hand.

"What if I'd said no?"

"You mean this morning?"

"Yeah."

"I'd have given my notice," she said.

"Really?"

"Yes, Zoe."

"You wanted me that badly?"

"Yes."

"Then take me," I said.

Marie smiled and kissed me again, licking and nibbling my lower lip as her
thigh pressed against my needy sex.  Despite my time with Mr. Shower
Massage that morning I felt as if I hadn't come in months, and as Marie's
lips traveled down to my breasts I thought I'd explode right then and
there. 

As she suckled and licked my nipples, her hands sculpted the curve of my
breasts, my waist, my hips, and when she began to plant a trail of kisses
down my belly I knew what was about to happen.  Marie bypassed my sex in
favor of my thighs, kissing and caressing them, raising goosebumps on my
skin again.  Her fingertips grazed the back of my knee, sending another
shiver through my body.  It was as if she knew exactly what I liked, all
my most sensitive spots, using them to build my anticipation, my pleasure. 

By the time I felt Marie's breath on my cleft, her fingers parting my
lips, I was more than ready for her.  That tingling feeling down there had
become almost intolerable and I felt like screaming, pleading for her to
stop teasing me so. 

"Oh...please...Marie..."  I begged her for my release.  This time she
didn't tease me, torture me.  Her warm, wet tongue pressed against my
pearl, swirling over it, lashing it, making it swell from beneath its
hiding place.  She kissed and sucked my clitoris, ravishing it with her
lips and tongue, guiding me towards my blessed release. 

Marie had just hooked her arms under my thighs and placed her hands on my
breasts, rubbing my nipples with her fingers when it hit me, a climax like
no other, an orgasm so intense that I think I might have blacked out for a
minute.  It was as if all the tension of the day just poured out of me,
leaving me quivering and weak, my breath ragged, my voice hoarse from my
cries of delight. 

She didn't let up, though.  As my hips gyrated and lifted off of the bed,
Marie held fast, her mouth still pressed against my cleft, ravishing it
with her tongue.  I felt her fingers probing my sex, pressing into my
passage, finding that secret spot that made me scream and writhe once
again, a peak even higher than the first. 

Somehow I found the strength to sit up, to push her face away from my
pussy, to tug at her shoulder and pull her on top of me.  Marie's face was
wet, glistening in the flickering light, her lips puffy and full and
tasting of my nectar.  Her nipples brushed against mine, sending another,
smaller wave of pleasure through me, a post-orgasmic shiver that made me
gasp and draw my breath. 

"Marie..." I whispered.  "Marie..."

"Shhhh..."  She kissed me again and held me as I caught my breath,
nestling her head in the crook of my neck and kissing my cheek. 

"That was spectacular," I cooed.

"I've been wanting to do this for so long..."

"You should have...I mean...why didn't you...?"

"I was afraid of what you'd say," Marie said.  "Seeing you naked gave me
the opportunity, the courage..." 

"So it's The Program that brought us together?"

"I guess," she laughed.  "Maybe sooner or later..."

We held each other for a while and then Marie went downstairs to get the
wine and the candle.  After toasting The Program we were kissing again,
though now I was on top of Marie for a change.  She pressed her sex
against my thigh with a barely concealed urgency. 

I'd never made love to another woman before, but it was a night of firsts.
Pleasing Marie was so much different than being with a man.  Of course,
her body was softer, smaller, with a myriad places of pleasure.  I found
that I could make her moan and gasp just by kissing the inside of her
elbow or the lower curve of her breasts.  Her nipples were smaller than
mine, almost like a boy's, but no less sensitive. 

By the time I'd kissed and licked my way down to her cleft, I realized
that I'd never been this close to another woman's sex before.  Marie's
pubes had been freshly shorn, her labia smooth as if they'd been waxed,
the only hair left a finger-width strip on her mons.  Her inner lips
opened like the petals of a flower, revealing the nectar within, her pearl
already swollen in anticipation of my touch.  I closed my eyes and
explored her with my finger, like a Braille reader, and she moved her hips
slowly, urging me to touch her, to take her. 

I wanted to do more than that.  Cupping her bottom in my hands, I pulled
her closer, bringing her chalice to my lips, taking a first tentative
taste of her nectar.  She was salty, like the sea.  My heart was pounding
as I probed her passage with my tongue, bringing her moisture up to her
clit, feeling her button swell even more. 

"Mmmmm...Zoe...right there..."  Though I hardly needed her coaching, I was
glad to know that I was pleasing her, making her feel as good as she'd
made me feel.  As I lashed her clit with my tongue I looked up to watch
her face, to see her expression change as her pleasure mounted.  Marie was
cupping her breasts, pinching her nipples, eyes closed, mouth open, head
tilted back against the pillows. 

Again, unlike the men I'd been with, Marie was vocal when it came to
expressing her delight.  When I did something that made her moan or gasp,
like pursing my lips and sucking on her clitoris, her cries encouraged me
to keep going.  And she wasn't afraid of telling me what she wanted, what
she liked.  When she began to get close to her release she urged me to
probe her passage with my fingers.  I did so tentatively at first, afraid
of hurting her with my nails, but the way she undulated her hips when I
pressed my finger inside her sex spoke as loudly as her song of pleasure. 

"Oh, God...Zoe...Zoe...ungh!"  When Marie came she went completely stiff
for a moment, her thighs quivering as they pinned me between them.  Then
she relaxed for a second, her cries building towards a second climax until
she went rigid again.  I held on to her bottom as it rose from the bed,
squeezing her cheeks as I ravished her sex, lashing her pearl, guiding her
to a third and then a forth wave, until she relaxed for the last time,
tugging at my arm, letting me know she'd had enough. 

"Oh, Zoe," she whispered as I stretched out next to her.  She rolled on to
her side and kissed me, tasting the traces of her nectar that lingered on
my lips.  "Zoe..." 

"I hope I did that right," I said, half in jest.

"Oh, come on," Marie laughed.  "I can't believe you've never..."

"Never," I said.

"Not even when you were younger?  You didn't fool around with anyone?"

"Just boys," I said.  "If I'd known it was going to be like this..."

"Better late than never," Marie said, brushing her lips against mine.  We
held each other until the candle burned down to a stub and then she rolled
over, snuggling up against my body.  We fell asleep like that, nestled
like spoons, letting the cool evening breeze caress our skin.