Zoe, Naked at Work - Wednesday "Wake up, sweetie." I felt a hand on my back, gently caressing me, long fingernails lightly dragging across my skin, a heavenly feeling. It took me a moment to remember where I was and with whom. "Mmmm...Marie," I cooed, enjoying her gentle touch. "What time is it?" "6:45," she said. "I thought you might want to have enough time to go back to your place and change." "Thanks," I said, rolling over on to my back. The loft was flooded with morning light. "I'd rather spend the time with you." I tugged at Marie's arm and pulled her back into bed. "You don't want to wear the same clothes as you wore yesterday, do you?" "Why not?" I said. "I'm only going to take them off as soon as I get to the office." "I'll lend you something of mine," Marie said. "Thank you," I said, pulling her on top of me and kissing her. A few minutes later we were laying head to toe, faces nestled between thighs, ravishing each other, pleasuring each other, loving each other. Marie came first, her body going rigid and then relaxing, tensing and relaxing, just as she had the night before. Then it was my turn, and though it wasn't intense as the night before, it was wonderful all the same. I wish we'd had more time, time to hold each other, time to cuddle and kiss, but we were on the cusp of running late. Marie had already put on a pot of coffee, and by the time I'd finished taking a shower she had scrambled some eggs and made toast. We ate together and then it was her turn in the bathroom. In the meantime, I was welcome to look through her closet for something to wear. Marie was an inch or two shorter than me and a dress size smaller, but I found a yellow floral sundress that fit me fairly well. Not quite professional, but that was a moot point as it would end up on a hanger in my office for the day. I figured that I'd leave my Prada skirt suit with her, the one I'd worn the day before. I could always pick it up some other time. "Find anything?" Marie asked as she came up the stairs. She was wrapped in a towel and holding a mug of coffee. "How's this?" I asked, holding up the sundress. "Good choice," she said. "I don't think my suits would fit you very well." "Can I leave my clothes here?" "Of course, Zoe. You can get it next time," Marie said. "There will be a next time right? "Yes," I said, laying the dress on the bed and taking her in my arms. "Tonight?" "Don't you have your date with Roger tonight?" "Damn! I forgot about that." "It's okay," Marie said. "Some other night then." "I've got a dinner party tomorrow and Dr. Coleman on Friday..." "You're going out with him?" Marie said. "I thought he was..." "Divorced," I replied. "Anyway, it's not firm. I could cancel." "No, Zoe," Marie said, pulling out of my embrace. "It's okay..." "No, it's not okay," I said. "You're upset." "I'm not upset," she said, rummaging through her dresser for underwear. "You sound upset." "I'm not, Zoe. Really. I don't own you..." "Maybe you do." I came up behind her and took her back into my embrace, kissing her shoulder. "Don't toy with me, Zoe." "I'm not," I said. "This is all so new to me. I mean, I don't...I haven't...I don't know where this is all going, but I want to find out." "Do you mean that?" Marie turned to face me. She had the most limpid blue eyes, glistening and moist. I could get lost in them forever. "Yes," I whispered, pressing my lips to hers. "After this week, I'm yours." "Okay," Marie said. "I'm okay with that." "Good," I said, kissing her again. "Now lend me some panties, will you?" "Here," she giggled as she handed me a tiny yellow cotton thong that she'd fished from her dresser. "I want to see you in these." "I asked for panties, not an eye patch." "Oh, come on. They match the dress." I slipped them on. They weren't as tight as I'd expected, but my pubes stuck out from either side of the tiny cotton crotch. "Do you have anything with a bit more...coverage?" I asked Marie. "What, like granny panties?" she laughed. "Let me give you a trim." "There's hardly any time, Marie." I skinned the panties off and went to hand them back to her. "Nonsense. It'll only take a minute." She led me down the spiral staircase to the bathroom. "You're not going to wax me, are you?" I'd had my legs waxed once. It took two codeine and a double vodka to kill the pain. "No, there's not enough time for that," she said, reaching into the medicine cabinet for the shaving gel and a razor. "Scoot up on the counter." I sat next to the sink as Marie trimmed my bush with a pair of scissors. Then she put a warm, wet washcloth on my crotch, letting it soak while she put a fresh cartridge in the razor. My unease at having sharp edges so close to my sex was somewhat ameliorated by Marie's gentle touch. First she lathered my bush with shaving gel. Then she started at the edges, carefully trimming back from my thighs. "I should use a weed whacker, Zoe," Marie giggled. "Don't you ever trim?" "Just my bikini line," I said. "It grows back fast." "I see. Lift your leg for me." Marie shaved everything except my mons, leaving a neat, trimmed triangle of reddish-blonde hair. I was tempted to ask her to shave it all off, but that would have looked too strange, not to mention the fact that the itching would have driven me nuts. After Marie rinsed off the remains of the shaving gel, she rubbed moisturizer into my newly shaven cleft. "Keeps it from itching," Marie said. "Yeah, you just can't keep your hands off of my pussy." "Well, that too," she laughed. When she was done she bent over and kissed me right on my sex, just a peck. "Thanks," I said, sliding off the bathroom counter. "Anytime, hon," she said, slipping her arms around me and giving me a kiss. By the time we'd gotten dressed we were officially running late, though we made up most of the time by taking a cab to the office instead of the bus. Two blocks from our building there was a line of police cars, along with a phalanx of local news vans, their antennae erect and pointed at their respective studios. "What's going on here?" I asked the cab driver. "Big protest," he said. "Goddamn feminists." "We'll get out here," Marie said, tossing the fare, sans tip, through the partition. Leaving the cab in gridlock, we walked the two blocks to our office building. Outside the front lobby doors there was a crowd of about two hundred people, almost all young women, chanting and carrying signs. They were corralled into a tight throng by a line of barricades and yellow police tape. About half a dozen camera crews were taping the scene, watched by about three dozen police officers in full riot gear. "What are they saying?" I asked Marie. "Sounds like 'Free Zoe Youngblood'." "Oh, shit." I ducked behind the entrance of the building across the street and took a look at the crowd, reading some of the signs they were holding. "DOWN WITH THE PROGRAM" read one. "ZAP THEM ALL!" read another. "What are we going to do?" Marie asked. "Come with me," I said. I led her to the side of the building, to the entrance of the garage. I fed my keycard into the reader and the door slid open. We ran down the ramp towards the elevator. "Zoe, the Old Man wants to see you right away," Hazel said as we stepped into the reception area. Every light on her phone was lit up but she wasn't answering it. She and Marie shared a look. I went straight into the boss's office. Ed was seated behind his desk. Across from him was Trina, sobbing into a tissue. Cal was on the couch, legs crossed, smoking one of the Old Man's cigars and looking typically smug. "We've got a little problem, Zoe," the Old Man said. "I can see that." "Zoe, I'm sorry," Trina sobbed. "I told a friend what happened, and she told some of her friends, and before I knew it..." "It's okay," I said, standing behind her and placing my hand on her shoulder. "Aw, how sweet," Cal sneered. "Ed, nothing's going to happen while that scum is present," I said. "Would you excuse us, Cal?" Ed motioned towards the door. Cal got up slowly, reluctantly, and left the office. "Do you know what he tried to do to me yesterday?" I asked the Old Man. "I know," he replied. "I also know you gave as good as you got. And then some. I'm footing the bill for that suit you ruined, by the way." "What's he got on you, Ed? Why are you sticking with this? You're already exposing yourself to the mother of all lawsuits." He studied me for a moment before saying "Will you excuse us, Trina?" "I'm sorry, Zoe," she whispered as she left the office. I took her seat, waiting for the Old Man to gather his thoughts. "This is confidential, Zoe," he said. "Not to leave my office. Understand?" "I have friends here," I replied. "I confide in them." "Then I can't tell you." He tented his fingers in front of his face. "Then I can't help you get rid of that crowd downstairs," I said. "And you know that I'm the only one who can do that." "We're at an impasse, then," he said. "How do we get to 'yes'?" "Don't tell anyone." "Back at square one," I said. "Look, if it's personal, if it's embarrassing, I'm not going to tell anyone. If it affects the company, if it means my friends' jobs..." "I'm leaving the company, Zoe," the Old Man said. "I'm cashing out, retiring. I have a buyer, a number of buyers, in fact. But first I have to turn things around." "I see." This was big news. "Second, I have to groom a successor, someone to take my position. Right now, you're on my short list, along with Woody and Garrick." "I am?" "You've thrived under the pressure of this Program crap. Dorfmann was a big win. Twelve years? He's never committed for that long." "But I had to lap dance for that fat bast..." "Closing the deal, Zoe. It's all that matters." "I know, but..." "Deal with that crowd downstairs and you're at the top of the list. You have my word." "I want it in writing," I said. "I can't promise..." "I guess we'll find out if that cliche about bad publicity being better than none is true, Ed." "Shit, Zoe..." "Just trying to close the deal, Ed." He had to laugh at that. Pulling a sheet of letterhead from his desk, he scribbled a quick note stating that I'd be installed as his successor provided I dispersed the crowd outside before noon. He signed it and folded the letter, stuffing it into an envelope and handing it to me. "What are you going to do?" he asked me as I stood up. "I'll think of something," I replied as I left his office. As I opened the door to my own office I couldn't think of anything. My mind was a total blank. I knew I'd have to go down there and try to break up the crowd somehow, but that meant I'd have to figure out who the leaders were and try to persuade them to stop blocking the entrance to the building. Even worse, many of the picketers were carrying backpacks, sleeping bags, and water bottles, as if they meant to camp out for days. We'd be out of business by the end of the week if that happened. "Damn, Zoe," Danielle said as she poked her head into my office. "You're famous." "Infamous is more like it." "How'd it go last night?" she asked me, closing the door behind her. "Wonderful," I said. "You're going to tell me all about it, right?" She sat down across from my desk, leaning forward so as not to miss a word. "First things first, Dani." I explained the deal I'd cut with the Old Man. She was speechless. "Keep it under your hat," I reminded her. "I promise," Danielle said. As she turned to get up and leave she suddenly remembered something and pulled a folded piece of paper from her bag. "I almost forgot," she said, handing me the paper. "I was browsing around last night and I found this." "What is it?" I unfolded it and scanned it quickly. It looked to be some sort of municipal web page, an amendment to the city's legal code. "Look at the part I underlined," Dani said. I skipped down to Section 69, Part II, Chapter C, Paragraph 4, Subparagraph iii. "I don't believe this." "It's true," Danielle said. "When did this happen?" "I wanted to find that out, too. I called Woody last night. He's lived here the longest of anyone on the staff except for the Old Man. According to him, it was thirty years ago when the majority of city councilors were hippies who'd moved down the coast from Berkeley." "And it's never been repealed?" "Nope. I don't know if anyone's aware that it's still on the books." "Thanks," I said. "This is definitely going to help." "What are you going to do, Zoe?" "I'm going to wing it." I stood up from my desk and pulled Marie's sundress over my head and skinned off the panties she'd lent me. "Need some company?" Danielle asked me. "Thanks. I could use some moral support." "You got it, hon." Dani followed me out of the office, grabbing Marie as we made our way to the lobby. As we rode downstairs in the elevator, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. I was about to live everyone's nightmare, standing naked in front of a crowd of strangers. My heart was pounding, my hands were shaking, but I did my best to keep from falling to pieces. I hoped my voice wouldn't waver. There were police officers in the lobby, one of whom came forward to block my way as I approached the front door. The rest just stared and snickered. "Can't let you go out there like that," the cop said. "I'd have to arrest you for indecent exposure." "No you wouldn't," Dani said, handing him another copy of the city code. "What's this?" "Read it," she said. His lips moved slightly as he pored over the document. When he reached the relevant section his eyes widened. He read it again and reached for his walkie-talkie, asking the dispatcher to patch him through to his supervisor. After a brief conversation with his captain, he stepped aside. "What was that?" Marie asked. "Municipal code," Dani replied. "Thirty years ago, the City Council repealed the indecent exposure regulations. The Sixties are still alive, at least around here." Danielle gave Marie a quick summary of what Woody had told her, how it had all started when some nude sunbathers at the city's public beach had been arrested and fined, how they'd fought back, first with a "nude-in" on the steps of City Hall, then with a petition, then by electing like-minded individuals to the City Council. Less than six months after it all had started, the law was amended. One of the policemen smiled and opened the lobby door for me, tipping his cap as he stared at my bare ass. The crowd outside took a moment to notice my presence, and their chants trailed off to a murmur. With Marie and Dani behind me, I held up my arms, silencing the last of the protesters. Even so, I could hear people saying "Is that her?" and "It's Zoe!". "Listen up!" I shouted, cupping my hands around my mouth, a makeshift megaphone. A young woman in jeans and a bikini top ducked under the yellow police tape and handed me a battery-powered bullhorn. "Listen up," I repeated, accompanied by a brief screech of feedback from the megaphone. "I don't know what you've heard about this, or what you know about The Program, but this was voluntary on my part. I was not coerced or forced to do this." Yes, I was lying through my teeth, but one thing I'd learned from selling and leasing real estate was that when the truth gets in the way you just have to go around it. Not too far, of course, as it always comes out in the end. Just enough to close the deal. Just enough. The crowd's murmuring increased, hundreds of cross conversations. The number of protesters had nearly doubled since Marie and I had arrived that morning, spilling out from the barricades and tape lines. The camera crews had found places to stand, on top of cars, on overturned trash containers; now nearly a dozen lenses were focused on me. I knew that if this footage made it on to the news there'd be some creative blurring or pixellation, but I had no doubt that the unaltered shots would end up everywhere, at affiliates all across the state, maybe even the networks. I wondered if there would be a "Zoe Gone Wild" video in stores for Christmas. "Keep going," Dani whispered in my ear. "The reason I'm doing this is simple," I shouted into the bullhorn. "I need to save my company. I need to save my co-workers' -- my friends' -- jobs." There were more murmurs from the crowd; I guessed that most of them were college students, not all of whom could appreciate my rationale. To them, this might have seemed like giving a professor a blow job for a passing grade. "Power, Zoe," Marie whispered. "It's about power." For a second, I didn't quite get what she meant, but by this time my adrenaline had kicked in and my mind was going a mile a minute. I remembered a poster my punky kid sister had on her bedroom wall, from some band with a weird name, like Pigskin or Pigface, that read "Hips, lips, tits, power!" Click. Now I understood. "But more important than our jobs, more important than the company, it's about power! I am naked at work, I am naked on the street. Am I vulnerable? No! I am powerful!" There were laughs and murmurs of assent from the crowd. I could feel the mood begin to turn. There were raised fists, a couple of cheers. Time to close the deal. "I have the power!" I shouted. "You have the power! We all have the power! Hips! Lips! Tits! Power!!" It spread like wildfire. First the chanting, then the signs, lowered when I'd begun to speak, now raised in the air among a sea of pumping fists. As the whole crowd took up the "Hips, lips, tits, power!" mantra I could see women start to undress, some just taking off their tops, others getting completely naked, standing in the warm California sun, shouting and laughing and chanting as one. The cameramen were going nuts, scanning the crowd, no doubt zooming in on the nude protesters. The police detail were in shock, too busy ogling to move. I knew I was skirting dangerously close to inciting a riot, but I didn't care. Power. This was power. I liked it. I felt like screaming "I am Zoe, Realtor Goddess!" but I didn't, even though it would have made one hell of a soundbite. "Don't ask why I'm naked," I hollered. "Ask why everyone isn't naked instead! Ask why the law requires that we wear clothes! Ask yourselves what it would take to change that law!" Actually, the law didn't require clothes, thanks to a determined group of sun-worshippers thirty years earlier, but they didn't know that. The young woman who'd handed me the bullhorn came over and took it back from me. She shouted "City Hall!" and pointed in that general direction. The crowd, more than half of them in some state of dishabille, began to head off down the block, through the barricades, past the police line, followed by cameramen and their assistants. Before the police could react, before any of the reporters present could thrust their microphones in my face, Danielle and Marie hustled me back into the lobby. The police who were guarding the building didn't even notice; they were too busy answering their radios and tossing their coffee cups, rushing outside to help with the crowd control. Back in the elevator I felt like I was going to pass out from the adrenaline rush. My legs were weak, my hands were shaking, my heart was turning backflips in my chest. Danielle and Marie held me up, arms around my waist and shoulders. "That was awesome, girl," Dani laughed. "You were great," Marie added. "Ever think about a career in politics?" "Thanks," I said, "Thanks for the support down there." Dani gave my waist a little squeeze and Marie planted a quick kiss on my cheek. I took another deep breath and tried to relax. It seemed like the whole company was waiting for us in the reception area, applauding, shouting, laughing, even chanting "Hips, lips, tits, power!" By then I could walk without Marie and Dani holding me up, and I acknowledged everyone with a half-curtsey. "Zoe, K-101 radio wants to do an interview," Hazel said "Every news station is on the line for you". She'd finally started answering the phones, though this consisted mainly of saying "Foley, please hold!" into her headset as she worked her way through the blinking lights. "No comment," I said. "Just tell them all 'No comment'." The conference room television was tuned to a local news station, an overhead shot of the crowd heading towards City Hall, taken from their Eye in the Sky helicopter at an altitude that kept the nearly-naked protesters indistinct enough for daytime television. I watched for a few minutes until the station cut to a replay of my impromptu speech. Even with a hand-held camera, you could see my hands shaking as I held the megaphone. "You did well," the Old Man said as he entered the conference room. "Thanks, Ed." "What are you going to say to the media?" He handed me a bottle of water from the mini-fridge. I opened it and took a big gulp. My throat was dry and my tongue felt like a cotton ball. "Nothing," I said. "No comment." "Good, good," he said. "Have you told anyone...?" "About our deal?" "Yes." "Just Danielle," I said. "I thought as much," the Old Man said. "Keep it hush hush, okay?" "I will." He smiled and left the conference room. I watched the news coverage for a few more minutes and headed back to my office, settling down in my chair and closing my eyes for a moment. It had already been a long day and it wasn't even ten o' clock yet. A knock on my door roused me from my minute of peace and quiet. "Hey, we still on for tonight?" It took me a second to recognize Roger as he peeked into my office. He was clean shaven, his hair was tied back into a ponytail, and he was wearing a suit and tie. I'd never seen him wear a suit and tie, and I'd have bet good money that he didn't even own one, much less the well-tailored khaki summer suit he had on that day. "Yes, of course," I said. "You're looking pretty sharp today." "Thanks," he said. "I kinda took yesterday's conversation to heart." "I can see." "So, McPherson's at eight?" Roger said. I could tell he was trying not to shuffle his feet, that nervous habit of his. "I'm looking forward to it, Rog." "See you then," he said, backing out of my doorway and closing the door. Seeing Roger dressed and groomed like that made me feel a little better about our dinner date. Though I'd rather have spent the evening with Marie instead of enduring a couple of hours of tech talk from Roger, I reminded myself for the umpteenth time that this was an act of mercy. Besides, a girl's got to eat, even if she'd rather be eating a girl. The phone lines were still lit up like the San Francisco skyline, so I spent the morning making calls on my cell phone. Not that I really got any work done; almost all of the clients had seen the morning news or heard about what had happened and wanted to talk about it. Some of them were curious about The Program, though I was hesitant to give them Cal's number, referring them to the Old Man instead. I was about to make one last call before lunch when my cell phone rang. It was my mother. She'd seen me on the television. Apparently, CNN had picked up the story and was airing some of the local stations' footage. "Since when do you watch CNN, Mom?" "Your father was watching," she said. "What's this all about?" I explained The Program and the events of the last couple of days, omitting the part about Cal, the garage, and the stun gun. No need to make her worry. "That's awful, Zoe," my mother said. "Nudity is a healthy thing, a good thing, not some sort of punishment." "It's not a punishment exactly," I said. "More of a management tool." "Management, punishment, what's the difference?" "You've got a point, Mom. It's only for a week, though." "Do you want us to come down there? I'd love to give that Cal fellow a piece of my mind." "No, Mom. I'm okay. Really." "I'd put your father on but he's in the field right now." "How's the crop this year?" "Doing better," my mother said. She and my father had bought a small vineyard in Marin County about five years before, finally settling down after all those years of traveling. The last couple of drought years had been hard on the grapes, but my parents pretty much lived on my father's royalties. His first self-improvement book, _Living in the Moment_, was still in print after nearly thirty years. "How's Alix?" My kid sister was home for the summer, having just finished her sophomore year at Reed College in Oregon. "Restless," my mother said. "She wants to come down for a visit." "I'd be glad to have her," I said. "She knows she's always welcome." "I'll let her know, Zoe. Are you sure you're alright?" "I'm fine, Mom." "Seeing anyone?" "Um, not right now." "What happened to that...architect?" "Taylor and I broke up, Mom. I told you a couple of months ago." "Oh, right," she said. "I forgot. He was a nice young man." "True, but it just didn't work out." "I'm sorry to hear that, Zoe. Are we going to see you soon?" "I'd love to come up but I'm pretty busy right now, Mom." "You're always busy. Are you eating well? Getting enough sleep?" "Yes, Mom. I'm taking care of myself." "Good. I'll let you go, sweetheart. Call me this weekend." "I will, Mom. Love you." "Love you, too." I felt a twinge of regret as I hung up the phone. Though my parents were a day's drive away, I didn't see them often enough. That should change, I told myself. My vacation was coming up and Marin was as nice a place as any to spend some time. As I finished jotting down some notes before going to lunch, there was a knock on my door. It was Cal. I kept my eye on the letter opener on my desk. If I really had to, I knew I could jam it into his neck. "What do you want?" "Just wanted to tell you that what you did down there was marvelous," he said, taking a seat across from my desk. "Forceful, manipulative. You're a girl after my own heart." "You have a heart? I'd want to see some x-rays before I believe that." "Always with the zingers," Cal said. "I came to make peace. Call a truce." "I don't believe you," I said. "Look, Ed told me about the deal you two struck. In a few weeks we're going to have to work together. For the good of the company, you know." "No, Cal. In a few weeks you're going to have to answer to me." "That's another way of looking at it." "And you know what the first thing I'm going to do will be, right?" "I know," he said. "Buy out the rest of my contract." "Correct." "But until then, can't we bury the hatchet?" In your head, I wanted to say. But, no. Rancor never solved anything. Cal had a point and I wasn't so stubborn that I couldn't admit it. "Okay, truce." "Great," Cal said, getting up from the chair and leaning over my desk, extending his hand. I shook it, suppressing the urge to wipe off my palm on the upholstery of my seat. "So, how about dinner tonight," he said. "To celebrate our agreement." "Don't push it, Panty Boy." "Hey, hey, okay." He held his hands up and backed away from my desk. "Just trying to be friendly." "There's good friendly and there's creepy friendly, Cal. Try to remember the difference." "Okay, okay. I just can't resist the feisty ones." "Shut the door behind you, Cal." He gave me a slimy smile and left my office. I finished up my notes and grabbed my handbag, heading out of my office towards Danielle's, knocking on her door and poking my head inside. "Get some lunch, Dani?" She was entering some notes into the contact manager program. "Sure, just a sec," she said. "Okay, done. Want me to get some takeout?" "Not today. I feel like going out." "You do?" "Yeah. Why not?" "Well, you're..." "Naked? I hadn't noticed," I said. "After this morning I don't care. Anyway, I have a craving for red meat for some reason. How about burgers at the Brew 'n' Chew? Just you and me. My treat." "Can't argue with that," Danielle said as she logged out of the contact manager and picked up her purse. The Brew 'n' Chew was a block away, one of those cheap business lunch places with dark wood paneling and fake kegs set into the walls, meant to simulate some sort of English pub. The waitresses wore abbreviated uniforms that showed a lot of leg, a kind of cross between Ye Olde Serving Wench and a French maid. Only the hostess was allowed a modicum of dignity, wearing a smart pant suit as she seated patrons and handed out menus. She gave me a double-take as Dani and I entered, guiding us to a back table, past all of the dining businessmen and women, most of whom were somewhat slack jawed at my current state of undress. "You're Zoe Youngblood, right?" the hostess asked as she seated us at a booth. "That's right." I settled into the cold vinyl seat. "We saw you on the news this morning," she said. "First round's on the house." "Thank you," I said, taking a menu from her. "Amstel Light, please." "Same for me," Danielle said. "The waitress will be back with your drinks," the hostess said, heading off towards the bar. "You're the girl of the hour," Dani said. "My fifteen minutes of fame," I replied. "It'll be over soon enough." "Thank God for that." "So, Zoe," Danielle said, leaning in and lowering her voice. "Marie. Tell me all about it." "I don't know what to tell you, Dani. She made dinner, we danced a bit, and then we went to bed." "Okay, dinner first." "Risotto with shrimp and snow peas. Delicious." "Wine?" "White." "Dancing?" "We slow-danced in the middle of her loft. More like making out than dancing, really." "Bed?" "Wonderful," I said. "Better than with a man?" "No...yes...I mean it's different. Really different." "How so?" "Well, it wasn't over after five minutes," I laughed. "I don't remember ever coming like that. She pushed all the right buttons." "And did you...?" "Yes," I said. "I'd never even thought about doing anything like that before, but it just felt so...right. She's got a massive crush on me, you know." "And you?" "I don't know," I said, pausing as the waitress came over with our drinks. She took our orders without missing a beat, acting as if I was just another businesswoman in a suit. When she left to place our order with the kitchen I continued. "Marie's beautiful, in a way that I never really appreciated until last night. The sex was amazing. But I'm not sure where it's all going to go. I'm willing to give it a chance, though." "So you're switching to the other team?" Danielle asked. "No, I don't think so," I said. "You know me, Dani. I like to get fucked once in a while." "You and me both," she said with a giggle as she raised her glass. "To getting fucked." "To getting fucked." We clinked our beer mugs and took a sip. In the next booth over, a pair of businessmen who'd overheard our conversation tried not to glance in our direction. I'd just finished my burger and was sipping coffee when a woman approached our booth. She was in her mid-thirties, wearing a dark blue suitdress, her frost-blonde hair carefully styled. There was something familiar about her but I couldn't place her face. "Ms. Youngblood?" she said as she stopped at our table. "That's me," I said, putting down my coffee cup. "And you're...?" "Tricia Payton, Channel Six news." She held out her hand and I took it reluctantly. "Mind if I sit down?" "No, but we're about to leave in a minute," I said. The waitress had already brought the check. Danielle slid over to give Tricia some room to sit. "We'd like an exclusive," Tricia said. "A teaser on the six o' clock and a two minute segment on the late news." "I'm afraid I have nothing to say." "We'll make it worth your while," she said. "You can screen the questions beforehand. We'll only shoot you from the neck up..." "I have no comment, Ms. Payton." "If it'll make you feel more comfortable, I'll interview you in the nude." "That I'd like to see," Danielle giggled. "I'm sorry, Ms. Payton..." "Call me Tricia..." "I'm sorry, Tricia, but I'm under a non-disclosure agreement." Technically, this was true; I'd given my word to the Old Man not to talk to the press even though nothing had been signed. "That's too bad," Tricia said, reaching into her purse. "But if things change I'd appreciate it if you'd give me a call at the station." She placed her business card on the table and stood up. "I'll consider it," I said. "A pleasure meeting you." "Likewise." "You should have done it, Zoe," Dani said. "You could have ripped Cal a new one on the local news." "Tempting thought," I replied. "But he and I have a sort of truce now." "No!" "Unfortunately, yes." I related the conversation Cal and I had in my office before we left for lunch. Danielle seemed genuinely disappointed. I think she was hoping to see Cal get zapped with Trina's stun gun once again. After we finished our coffee and I took care of the check, we took a leisurely stroll back to the office. The restaurant's air conditioning must have been on its coldest setting; the sunshine on my bare skin felt delicious. As we approached the front door to our building I saw the young woman from that morning's protest standing there, the one who'd handed me the bullhorn. "You lied to me, Zoe," she said. "There's no law against public nudity." "Sorry, kid," I said. "You just didn't do your homework." "The rest of it was true," Danielle said. "That doesn't make it right," the woman said. "I thought you were with us." "Listen, dear," I said. "We have a business to take care of. Having a crowd of protesters in front of the office wasn't exactly conducive to that." "So that's all you care about? Money?" "No, but maybe when you get out of school and find yourself with a mortgage and car payments and a job that requires you to wear nice clothes, most of the time at least, you'll appreciate what I've said a bit better." "We were here for you, Zoe," she said. "We supported you. Didn't you read the signs we'd made?" "And I appreciate the sentiment. But the way you went about it..." "What do you mean?" "Putting our company out of business isn't a very good way to support her," Danielle said. "Okay, I can accept that," the woman said. "Here's a tip," I said. "And you didn't hear this from me. The Institute for Proactive Management. Look them up. They're the cause. My going naked at work is just the symptom." "Institute for Proactive Management," she repeated. "Calvin Jessup Purdy," Dani added. "It's his baby." "Okay," she said. "Sorry I was so pissed, Zoe." "It's okay, dear. I'm sorry I tricked you, but I had to do what I had to do." "Guess I learned a lesson here," she said. "My name's Brenda, by the way." "This is Danielle," I said. "And we've got to run. Good luck." "Thanks," Brenda said, stepping aside so we could enter the lobby. "You handled that pretty well," Dani said as we stepped into the elevator. "Thanks, but that doesn't make me feel any better," I said. "Funny how your idealism just disappears after a few years." "I didn't know you were once a radical," Danielle said. "No, but my parents were. My sister still is. I'm the black sheep of the family, wearing Prada and sitting in an office." Hazel had a bunch of message forms for me at the reception desk, sorted into two piles, clients and news media. I took the client stack and threw the other messages into the waste basket. After all of the morning's commotion, the office seemed especially quiet, eerily calm. Most of the sales staff was out of the office, and only the quiet clicking of keyboards and the faint hum of the fluorescent lights broke the silence that had descended over the cubicles. I spent the rest of the afternoon returning phone calls. Seeing the crowd of protesters that morning had tempted me to write off the rest of the day, but I managed to set up six meetings for the next week. Dr. Coleman had called, confirming our dinner date for Friday night, so I called his office and left a message. On Wednesday afternoons, at four o' clock, we usually held a mid-week sales staff meeting. Today it had been called off. The Old Man was at a dental appointment, Cheryl had called in sick, and everyone except me, Danielle, Larry, and Hal were out of the office. I took this opportunity to leave work early, getting dressed and heading downstairs to the parking garage. The garage didn't seem so spooky now that I was wearing clothes, though I'd brought my letter opener just in case. I hadn't been home since Tuesday morning. After watering my plants and checking my mail, I got undressed and took a nap, setting the alarm for 5:30. That would give me plenty of time to get ready for my date with Roger. As I settled into my nice, comfortable bed, I wished Marie were here with me, lying next to me. I'd hardly seen her after that morning, since she was busy with one of her clients for most of the day, heading out to show a property in her underwear, in accordance with The Program. Fucking Cal. It bothered me that he was intruding in my thoughts, displacing my desire to have Marie near me just then. The funny thing was that were it not for The Program and his slimy personality I'd actually find him attractive. Had we met under different circumstances, I wouldn't have hesitated to go out with him. But now I found him odious, a registered sex offender, writer of disgusting stories, the consultant from Hell. My last thought before I drifted off to sleep was of him writhing on the floor of the parking garage after I'd zapped him in the crotch with Tina's stun gun. The alarm clock woke me up promptly at half-past five. I reached for the remote and turned on the television. The local news was on, an aerial shot of the morning's protest in front of our office building, followed by a shot of me, holding the bullhorn, my breasts and cleft digitally blurred. I clicked to another station. Same thing, except that station used black bars instead of blurring my naughty bits. I turned the television off and headed to the bathroom to take a shower and get ready for my date. I should just go naked, I thought before dismissing that notion. No, I should wear something nice. After all, Roger made the effort to wear a suit and tie to work, even though it wasn't really necessary. I had a black Nicole Miller halter dress that I'd never worn, hemmed just above the knee and with a low-cut back. I'd been meaning to find a bra I could wear with it, but I really didn't need one. After walking around without clothes for the past three days, wearing a bra with this dress just seemed superfluous. I arrived at McPherson's about ten minutes late and found Roger at the bar, drinking a beer. He smiled when he saw me, as if he hadn't expected me to actually show up for our date. Roger was wearing a different suit from the one he'd worn to the office, black pinstripe instead of khaki, with a clean white shirt and a red silk tie. Despite his usual jeans and t-shirt attire, he actually looked comfortable in this. "You look great," he said as I took a seat next to him. "Thanks," I said. "So do you." "Drink?" "White wine, please." Roger caught the bartender's attention and ordered a round. "I was worried that you wouldn't show up," he said. "Well, I'm here. Right?" "I guess," he said, smiling nervously. "I don't go out too often." "When's the last time you went on a date?" "Um, about three months ago," he said. "Someone I met online." "Well, it's been over two months for me," I said, not mentioning the night before at Marie's place. "Two months? Really?" "Yes." "I don't believe it." "Why not?" I asked him. "Well, you're...you're pretty," he said. "I thought you'd have..." "I'm pretty picky, Roger." "Can I ask you something?" "Sure." "If you hadn't...if I hadn't...if we hadn't had that, um, misunderstanding the other day," he said, "would you have gone out with me?" "You want the truth?" "Please, Zoe." "The truth is, probably not," I said. "Oh." "Don't take this the wrong way, Roger. Appearances aren't everything for me, but I can't say that they don't count for something. You can have a great personality, a good sense of humor, and be the sweetest guy in the world. But it's hard to get past a coffee-stained t-shirt and jeans that are falling off your hips." "I see." Our drinks arrived and Roger turned to pay the bartender. "You know, Roger," I said, taking a sip of my wine. "If we'd never met before and I saw you sitting here, dressed like this, I might go out with you. At least, I'd let you buy me a drink. Does that answer your question?" "I guess it does," he laughed. "So, how did it go?" I asked him. "How did what go?" "Your online date." "Awful," he said. "She was into some sort of cult thing." "I'm sorry." "Hey, what can you do," Roger said. "Live and learn." There was a lapse in the conversation as we sipped our drinks. "So, what do you do for fun when you're not slaying dragons?" I asked. "Heh. Well, I like to read." "What are you reading now?" "Other than technical stuff? Proust. Hardy. Joyce." "James Joyce?" "I was an English Lit major before I switched to Comp Sci," he said. "Really? I had no idea. What else do you do?" "I'm building a boat." "Sailboat?" "Yep," he said. "Catamaran. Found some plans on the net. I've been working on it for two years now, weekends mostly, me and an old buddy from college. Should be finished by next summer." "You surprise me, Roger." "How so?" "I thought you spent all of your time in front of a computer." "Well, yeah," he said. "Most of it, anyway. But I like to get away from it whenever I can, sailing, biking, rock climbing. What about you?" "Me?" "What do you do for fun, Zoe?" "Not nearly as much as you," I said. "I run, work out, shop, read. Hit the beach whenever I can." "Would you like to go sailing sometime?" "But your boat's not..." "Nah, my buddy has a 36-footer," Roger said. "I'd like that." I have to admit that Roger was more interesting than I'd thought. I had this impression of him as an alpha geek, fighting virtual battles online as he hunched over a computer keyboard. It turned out that he did fight battles and not just over the Internet, getting together with like-minded individuals at large gatherings, drinking mead, jousting, and basically creating a simulacrum of medieval life. I'd heard of these groups before and it had seemed somewhat obsessive to me, but the way Roger described it made it seem less so. After drinks at McPherson's, we drove across town to Takeshima for sushi. Roger's car was an old but immaculate Ford Galaxie 500 from the early Sixties. His college buddy had rebuilt and restored it, selling it to Roger to finance his next project, a '59 Edsel. I giggled to myself when I looked at the back seat; it was big enough to sleep two. I'd been dreading this date, thinking of all the ways Roger could embarrass me, but it really turned out to be a wonderful night out. He'd really turned on the charm, and though we couldn't avoid lapsing into shop talk, it was interesting to hear Roger's perspective on things since he wasn't part of the sales staff, the people with whom I usually socialized and gossiped. By the time our kimono-clad waitress came by with the check, I'd decided that this had been one of the most fun dates I'd had in a while. True, I'd gotten a bit tipsy on the sake, but Roger was genuinely funny, a side of him that I hadn't seen before, probably because he was so nervous and tongue-tied around me at the office. As we walked back to his car, I nearly tripped and fell over a crack in the sidewalk. Roger caught me before I stumbled, holding me by the waist as he guided me to the passenger side of his car. "I think I should drive you home, Zoe," he said as he unlocked and opened the door. "I think that's a good idea." I stepped into the car and reached over to unlock his door. As he got inside I stayed put in the middle of the broad bench seat, leaning my head on his shoulder as he started the engine. "You okay, Zoe?" he asked. "I'm just fine, Rog." By this time I was playing with his long ponytail, wrapping strands of his dark hair around my finger and twirling it. I slipped my other hand inside his suit jacket and he laughed nervously. "Ticklish, Rog?" "Heh, a little." He put the car in gear and drove out of the parking lot, heading towards my apartment building. "I had fun tonight," I said. "You mean that?" "Yes, I mean that. You're really a sweet guy, Rog." "Thanks," he said. "I had a good time, too." "I'd go out with you again, you know." By now, the promise I'd made Marie that morning was all but forgotten. "Really?" "Really." We were at a stop light and he turned his head to look me in the eyes. Our lips were just a hair's breadth apart. The gap narrowed. Just as we were about to kiss, the light turned green and a driver behind us began to lean on his horn. "Damn," he muttered under his breath as he stepped on the gas. We drove in silence, arriving at my building a few minutes later. This time there were no impatient drivers to interrupt our kiss. Roger was tentative at first, but only for a moment. "Would you like to come upstairs?" I asked him. "Are you sure, Zoe?" "I'm sure," I said. Roger shut off the engine and came around to the passenger side, opening the door for me. We held hands as I let us into the lobby of my building, and on the elevator we kissed again. His hands roamed over my exposed skin, coming to rest on the small of my back, pulling me closer. We didn't break off our kiss until the elevator door opened on my floor. "How about a drink?" I asked him as I unlocked my apartment. "Beer? Wine?" "Beer's fine," he said, looking around my living room. "Nice place." "Thanks," I said, heading into the kitchen. When I returned with his beer and my wine, Roger was standing at my bookcase, looking over the titles. "No Proust," I said as I handed him a Sam Adams. "Youngblood?" he said, pulling one of my father's books from a shelf. "Any relation?" "That's Daddy," I said, taking a small sip of wine. I was just on the cusp between tipsy and drunk and I didn't want to cross that line. "_Sanity in an Insane World_," Roger said, reading the title. "His tenth book, I think." I sat down on the couch and Roger placed the book back on the shelf, sitting down next to me. "Interesting," he said. "I didn't know your father was a writer." "There's a lot you don't know about me, Rog." I slipped my hand inside his jacket again and turned to face him. "I guess not," he said, putting his arm around my shoulder and pulling me closer. "I think I'm going to break my three-date rule." "Three-date rule?" he said. "What's that?" "I usually don't sleep with someone until the third date," I explained. "But I'm willing to make an exception." "I'd wait for you." "You don't have to," I whispered, slipping my hand from inside his jacket and placing it on his thigh. As we kissed again I could feel his hardness inside his trousers, his hands roaming over my bare shoulders, down to my breasts. As Roger slipped his hand inside my dress, cupping my breast, I gave his cock a gentle squeeze. "Mmph," he said, breaking off our kiss. "Be careful there." "Too rough?" "No, I mean, it's been a while," Roger said. "I might go off pretty quick." "So," I said, slipping off the couch and kneeling between his legs. "We've got all night, right?" "I guess we do." As I undid Roger's belt buckle and unzipped his trousers, he unbuttoned his jacket and loosened his tie, lifting his ass off the couch as I pulled down his pants and boxer shorts. He must have showered right before dinner as he still smelled of deodorant soap. His cock stirred as I circled it with my fingers, slowly stroking it as I lowered my head into his lap. "Zoe..." he murmured when he felt my lips on his glans. "Oh, God..." He tasted of soap, too. Sweet, not unpleasant, with the tang of precum mixed in as well. I cupped his balls with one hand as I sucked him, stroking his shaft with the other. Roger's hips began to move, rocking to the rhythm of the bobbing of my head. I felt his fingers running through my hair, down my neck, along my back. Roger was right: he did come pretty quickly. After just a couple of minutes of sucking I felt his cock begin to twitch in my mouth, his glans flaring, and then the warm pulsing of his semen, filling my mouth as he let out a deep sigh. I kept his manhood between my lips until he began to soften and then I released him, planting a gentle kiss on the tip of his cock. "Thanks," he said as I stood up from between his legs. "My pleasure," I replied, undoing the clasp on the halter neck of my dress, letting it fall around my feet. Roger smiled as I stood before him, wearing just a black lace thong and my Manolo Blahnik sling-back pumps. "I like you better like that," he said, pulling me into his lap. "Panties and heels, you mean?" "Yeah," Roger said. "I like it even better than naked. Leaves something to the imagination, you know?" "I agree," I said, wrapping my arm around his neck and guiding his lips to my breast. As he licked and sucked my nipple, I felt his hands roaming over my body, one on my thigh, the other down my back and following the strap of my thong as it ran between my cheeks. All that sake had made me pretty horny. Sucking Roger's cock made me even hornier. Now, his hands and mouth were setting me afire. I pulled away from his lips and stood up from his lap. "Let's go to the bedroom," I whispered. "You can take my panties off for me." "Okay," he said, grinning as he got up from the couch. Roger almost fell flat on his face when he tried to walk; he'd forgotten that his trousers and boxers were still pushed down around his shins. I picked up my wine glass and took a sip as I watched him tear his shoes off of his feet and pull off his pants and shorts. Wearing only his shirt and tie, Roger followed me out of the living room and into the darkened bedroom. "Hang on a sec," I said. "Let me light a candle." It was only after I'd lit the match that I saw her in my bed, her dark hair spilled over my pillow, the sheets draped over her slender form. "Marie?" "Huh? Who's...?" She opened her eyes and looked around, still groggy from sleep. "Marie?" Roger gasped. "Roger? What are you doing here?" "I should be asking you that," I said. "How'd you get in here?" "Oh, shit," she said. "Zoe, I'm sorry..." As she sat up the sheet slid off of her breasts. It took a split-second for her to realize this and she grabbed the sheets and quickly covered herself. "You and Marie...?" Roger said, shaking his head in disbelief. "You said you were just having dinner with him," Marie said, her eyes glistening in the candlelight. "Give me a minute to get dressed and I'll leave." "No, don't," Roger said. "I'll go. It's okay." "No one's going," I said. "Not you, not Marie. Not me, since it's my apartment. Not until we work this out." "What do you mean by 'work this out'?" Roger asked. "Well, for one thing, I hope you're good at keeping secrets, Roger, because you're going to keep this one." "Okay," he said. "Promise?" "Promise." "Now, could you do me a favor and go get the bottle of wine?" I asked him. "In the kitchen, next to the fridge." "Sure." Roger left the bedroom. "Zoe," Marie said, nearly in tears. "I'm so sorry. I didn't know..." "Honey, don't be sorry," I said, climbing into bed next to her and taking her in my arms. "It's okay. I understand. But how'd you get in?" "I told the doorman that I had to drop off your laptop," she said. "And I slipped him twenty dollars..." Her words trailed off into tears. "Shhh..." I said, stroking her back as she sobbed in my arms. "I need you, Zoe." "I know, I know." "I'll do anything," she whispered. "I'll wait until you're...done with him. I don't mind. I just want to..." "Shhh..." As I kissed the trails of tears that ran down her alabaster cheeks, I felt torn. Part of me wanted to hold Marie in my arms all night, to dry her tears, to kiss her, to make love by candlelight. But I also wanted Roger, who'd been my surprise treat, my Pygmalion with a penis. As wonderful as my time with Marie had been the night before, I wanted to get well and truly fucked. I know Roger did, too. "Sorry, I'll go wait in the living room," Roger said as he returned from the kitchen. He had the wine, another glass, and his bottle of beer, barely touched. "No, no," I said. "Come in. Sit down. Relax." "Are you sure?" He hesitated on the threshold of the bedroom. "Yes, I'm sure," I said. "Would you like a glass of wine, Marie?" Roger asked as he sat down at the end of the bed. "That would be nice, thanks." "So, what's happening?" Roger asked as he poured a glass of wine for Marie. "I'd like to finish what we started," I said. "Okay, but what about...?" "I'm staying," Marie said. "That is, if you don't mind." "Not at all," Roger said, taking a pull on his beer. He'd doffed his tie while he was out of the bedroom and was wearing just his dress shirt, half-unbuttoned. "So we're all going to...?" "I'll do whatever Zoe wants me to do." Marie took a sip of her wine and looked at me, her eyes still glistening with tears. "What if I asked you to suck his cock?" I said, half joking. "I'd do it for you," Marie said. "Anything." "I'm kidding, Marie." "I'm not," she said, letting the sheet fall from her breasts. "Would you like me to suck you, Roger?" "That's okay," he said. "You don't have to..." "Come on, Rog," I chided him. "Two BJs from two different women in one night? You're turning that down?" "It's not the same if you can't brag to your friends about it," he chuckled. "I guess not," I said as I sat up and took off my pumps. I was about to skin off my panties when I remembered what I had said to Roger in the living room, before we found Marie asleep in my bed like Goldilocks. I walked over to the end of the bed where he was sitting and said "Will you help me out of these, Rog?" "With pleasure," he said, putting down his beer. Roger hooked his fingers under the waistband of my thong and pulled, slowly drawing them over my hips, down my thighs, letting them fall to the carpet. "Nice," Roger said, gently grazing my thighs with his fingers as he stared at my bush. "Marie trimmed it for me this morning." "You've been seeing each other for a while?" he asked. "Just curious." "Only once," I said. "One wonderful night." "Zoe?" Marie said, smiling for the first time since that night. "Do you mean that?" "I do," I climbed into bed next to her. "Kiss me," I whispered. It was hard not to compare the way they kissed. Marie was less tentative, her lips softer, her hands bolder, touching me in all the right places. I closed my eyes and lost myself in her kiss until I heard the rustle of clothing and felt someone join us in bed. Roger had taken off his shirt and was kneeling next to us, watching. "Um, how are we going to do this?" he asked. "I've...I've never been in a threesome before." "I wouldn't call this a threesome," Marie said. "What do you mean?" Roger asked, a puzzled expression on his face. "After Zoe's done with you, it's my turn," she said. "You get to watch. That's all." "Okay," he said. "I'm cool with that." Marie scooted over to the side of the bed, making room for Roger. He took another swig of his beer and placed it on the bedside table before stretching out next to me. He was hard again, probably from watching us kiss. "This is too weird," he said. "Good weird or bad weird?" I asked him. "I dunno. Maybe I'll know in the morning." He leaned in and kissed me, just a brush of the lips to start, then more aggressively. Maybe he'd seen how I'd reacted to Marie's kiss, maybe he was just a bit less nervous than he'd been before. Either way, Roger's hands were all over me as we kissed, cupping my bottom, fondling my breasts, brushing my thighs. My desire, muted somewhat after being surprised by the presence of Marie in my bed, began to grow again. I ran my hands over his chest and back, roaming lower, finding his hardness and stroking it. I felt more movement on the bed, another pair of hands on my body. Marie wasn't content to wait and watch. She brushed my hair to the side and began kissing the nape of my neck, slowly working down my back, lingering at my tailbone, sliding her tongue between my cheeks. Marie gently parted my legs, grazing my sex with her fingers as Roger and I kissed and caressed each other. When I felt her breath on my sex I knew what she wanted to do. I had other plans, though. "Lay back, Rog," I cooed. He rolled on to his back and I straddled his hips, reaching down to take his hardness inside me. I felt Marie's fingers on my cleft, parting my labia, taking Roger's cock from my hand and guiding him into my passage. As I settled down on his shaft she knelt next to us, stroking my back with one hand, cupping my breasts with the other. "How does it feel, Zoe?" she whispered in my ear. "Mmmm...nice," I said. Roger placed his hands on my hips, holding me as I began to rock back and forth on his hardness. Roger was pretty average-sized down there but it had been over two months since I'd been with a man, making him feel bigger than he actually was. "I wish I had a cock for you," she murmured. "I should buy a strap-on or something." "You could borrow mine whenever you want," Roger chuckled. "Does it snap off or do I need a screwdriver to remove it?" Marie said. "You don't need a cock to make me happy, Marie," I said. As I slid up and down on Roger's stiff penis, she kissed me, parting my lips with her tongue, cupping my breasts, circling my nipples with her fingertip. "That's so hot," Roger murmured. He began to push into me with his hips, filling me even more with his hardness, shifting his hands to my bottom and pulling me down the length of his shaft. Marie began to nibble my earlobe, circling one of my nipples with a moistened finger, and I felt that gnawing hunger in my belly, a kernel of pleasure that had been building all night, spreading outward, gaining intensity, filling me with a tingling warmth. "Ungh...yes...yes...fuck me..." I never cursed like that and I'd never come that fast. When Zoe shifted her lips to my breasts, hungrily licking and suckling my nipples, I lost it, wrapping my arms around her and moving my hips faster, engulfing and releasing Roger's hard cock, each stroke sending a rush of pleasure through my veins. He stopped thrusting into me and just held my bottom, keeping me from slipping off his penis. Even so, I moved too far, too fast, and suddenly I felt empty. "Put it back...put it back..." I pleaded. "Let's do it like this," Roger said, rolling me over on my back and lifting up my legs. He knelt between them and guided his glistening cock back inside me as Marie leaned over and continued ravishing my breasts. The empty feeling was gone, the pleasure was back, even better than before. When I felt Marie's slender fingers on my cleft, rubbing my swollen pearl, a second, more intense climax seized me, leaving me trembling and shaking beneath Roger's pounding cock. "Aren't you done yet, Roger?" Marie asked. She was laying next to me, caressing my breasts and belly as she watched Roger's cock slide in and out of my sex. "Getting close," he replied through gritted teeth. "Second time takes a while..." "Let me help you," she said, getting on her knees and licking her finger. She reached behind Roger, doing something I couldn't see, something that made his eyes widen. "What the fuck...?" he gasped. That when I felt it, his cock twitching and spasming, a warm feeling spreading through my sex. Roger's thrusts began to slow and he let out a deep sigh. "Gets 'em every time," Marie said, wiping her finger on the sheets. "Warn me before you do that again," Roger said as he let my legs fall to the bed. "What did she do?" I asked. "She stuck her finger up my ass," he said as he stretched out on top of me and gave me a kiss. "Naughty Marie," I giggled. "You should see someone about that enlarged prostate, Rog," Marie said. She laid down next to us and planted a gentle kiss on my shoulder. "Very funny," he said. "You just couldn't wait your turn." "Hey, I'm not a piece of playground equipment," I protested. As I laughed, I felt Roger's softening cock slip out of me. "Excuse me," he said, getting up out of bed. "Gotta pee." "Thanks for sharing," Marie said. "Could you get me a glass of water, Rog?" "Sure," he said, walking out of the bedroom. "I thought he'd never leave," Marie cooed, taking his place on top of me. "Be nice." "I'm trying, Zoe. I just don't know what you see in him." "He's really a sweet guy," I said. "If you say so." "You should get to know him better, Marie." "No, thanks," she said. "Yuk. He made a mess down there." She slid down the length of my body until she was kneeling between my legs. Suddenly, I felt her tongue on my sex, licking up Roger's semen, sending a post-orgasmic shiver down my spine. When he returned with my water he grinned, stood behind Marie's upturned ass, and licked his finger. "No, Roger," I said, just as he was about to do what she'd done to him. "What?" Marie asked, looking up from between my legs. "What was he going to do?" "Don't worry about it," I said. "Keep going. That feels wonderful." Roger sat down on the bed next to me and handed me the glass of water. I took a couple of sips and placed it on the bedside table, laying back against the pillows as Marie licked and sucked my cleft. I closed my eyes and savored the feeling of her tongue as she ran it up and down my slit, first circling and then lashing my pearl. Roger laid down next to me and played with my breasts as he watched her ravish me, leaning over and taking one of my nipples in his mouth. I slipped my arm around his back and held him as he suckled me. It was as if there was an unspoken competition going on between Marie and Roger: who could make me come hardest. Marie pulled out all the stops, licking and suckling my clit, probing me with her fingers, even pressing a moistened fingertip in my bottom, something I'd never really cared for until now. That gnawing feeling was back, starting at my sex this time and spreading up through my belly, making me moan and gasp with each lash of her tongue. "Mmmm...Marie...right there...just like that..." She found that secret spot inside me, the one that never failed to make me come, and she pressed her fingertip against it until I found my release. Right before I climaxed, I looked down at her. Marie's eyes were closed, a look of intense concentration on her face as she ate me, as if by making me come she could make me fall in love with her. Roger held me in his arms as I shuddered in the throes of my orgasm, pressing his lips to mine when I began to cry out. It wasn't better or worse than what I'd felt with him; it was just different, like trying to compare a new pair of shoes with a nice summer day. Just different. After I'd pulled Marie away from my sex she scooted up to lay next to me, kissing me with lips wet with my nectar. Roger was on the other side of the bed, snuggled up against my right side, his flaccid cock pressed against my thigh. I was too tired to speak, wrung out from all the pleasure I'd received, and groggy from all I'd had to drink. I closed my eyes, sandwiched between two warm bodies, took a deep breath, and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.