Zoe, Naked at Work - Friday 

"Zoe?  Zoe?  Wake up.  We overslept."

"Shit," I muttered, bolting upright.  I didn't have to look at the clock
to know what time it was.  The way the sunlight fell on the bedroom wall
told me that it was well past 8 o'clock.  I had to take my car into the
shop today, and I wanted to do it before work.  It would have to wait
until lunchtime. 

We showered together, which would have been more enjoyable if we'd had
more time.  I managed to find a blouse and skirt that fit Marie's petite
frame, so she wouldn't have to show up at work in the leather skirt and
tight knit sweater she'd worn the night before.  We got to the office just
a few minutes late, the last to arrive at the morning staff meeting. 

"Nice of you to join us," Ed said, leaning back in his chair.

"Sorry, Ed," Marie said, taking a seat around the table.  Everyone of the
sales staff was present.  Plus Cal. 

"Why are you two still dressed?" the consultant asked.  "You could have
saved some time and just rolled out of bed au natural." 

"Stuff it, Cal," I said.  One more day of this.  One more day.

"Pipe down, you two," Ed said, an edge of impatience in his voice.  He
like the Friday staff meetings to move quickly so he wouldn't miss his
10:30 AM tee time at his club.  "Let's start with Hal". 

Hal proudly announced that he'd closed the Imigen deal, 20,000 square feet
of light industrial space at Westgate Office Park.  This was his biggest
closing  yet, and earned him a round of applause and a handshake from the
Old Man.  Larry announced that he was on the verge of closing the sale of
a motel to a national chain, Marie had closed a deal with a restaurant
franchise, Danielle had taken a meeting with a telecom company interested
in siting cellular phone antennas on some of our taller structures, and
Woody had submitted a bid to a Federal agency looking for 100,000 square
feet of office and warehouse space.  

We went around the room, each member of the sales staff recounting the
highlights of the week.  I spoke about closing the Dorfmann deal and the
problems with the Coleman medical office, and that I had a prospect
interested in space at Westgate.  Then it was Cheryl's turn. 

Cheryl shuffled her papers, cleared her throat, and began to run through
the list of client meetings she'd had that week, what properties she'd
shown, and what deals she had pending.  She hadn't gotten close to closing
a deal this week, and she tried to put the best face on what was a
disappointing five days for her.  There was an uncomfortable moment of
silence after she finished. 

"Sounds like we're going to see those big tits of yours next week," Cal
smirked.  Cheryl's face turned three shades of red. 

"Why, you fucking asshole," Woody hissed.  He lunged across the conference
table, wrapped his hands around Cal's throat, and pulled the consultant
out of his seat, banging his head against the polished wood table. 
Pandemonium ensued, with Garrick trying to separate Woody and Cal, Cheryl
and Marie screaming, and Larry laughing hysterically.  Amidst the chaos, I
caught Ed's eye; there was a twinkle of amusement.  He winked at me. 

"Okay, break it up, break it up," he bellowed.  "Meeting adjourned."

Woody let go of Cal's neck and sat down again, the veins in his forehead
visibly throbbing.  Cal picked himself up from the table, straightened his
tie, and left without a word.  The rest of the sales staff gathered their
papers and began filing out of the conference room while Ed just sat there
at the head of the table, his hands clasped in front of his face.  I
stayed behind after everyone else had left. 

"Something on your mind, Zoe?" he asked.

"Hell of a way to run a company, Ed," I said.

"It's going to be your company soon," he replied.

"At this rate there won't be much left of it," I countered.  "In fact, I
wonder if you don't have some sort of interest in seeing it fail after
you're gone."  I stood up from the conference table, removed my blazer,
and began unbuttoning my blouse.  This was my last day naked at work and I
was determined to see it through.  "You built this firm, Ed.  You're the
only one who could pull it down, and you'd do it out of spite."  I
shrugged off my blouse and began to unzip my skirt. 

"That's bullshit," he said.

"Really?  Think ahead, a year, two years from now," I said, stepping out
of my skirt.  "When this company's earnings have doubled.  How will you
feel, Ed?" 

"The truth, Zoe?"

"That would be nice," I said, reaching back to unclasp my bra.

"I'll be too busy fishing and playing golf to care," he laughed.  "You're
a tough broad, Zoe, and I mean that in a good way.  I wouldn't want to see
the company in anyone else's hands." 

"Nice of you to say that, Ed."  I skinned off my panties and sat on the
edge of the table, facing him.  The Old Man's eyes were locked on my sex. 
He stared at my cleft for the longest time. 

"I wish Chicago hadn't been a one-time thing," he said, breaking the
silence. 

"It had to be, Ed."

"I know, but I wish it hadn't.  We would have been good together."

"We would have been a train wreck, Ed," I said, standing up and gathering
my clothing.  "A goddamned train wreck." 

"You don't know that."

"Yes," I said.  "I do."  I left the conference room and carried my clothes
into my office.  Hazel had left a couple of phone messages; one was from
Mark Coleman, confirming our date that night.  The other was from my
sister Alix, asking if she could come visit that weekend.  I put Mark's
message aside and called my sister's cell, getting her voicemail instead. 
I left a message asking her to call me at the office again.  Since I
wouldn't have my car this weekend, it wasn't the best time for her to
visit. 

Around 11AM, my intercom rang.  It was Hazel at the front desk.

"I have your sister, Zoe," she said.

"On the phone?"

"No.  She's here in reception."  Surprise, surprise.

"Thanks.  Send her in, please."

"Omigod, it's true," Alix said a minute later as she stood at the doorway
to the office.  "You're naked." 

"Great to see you, too, sis," I said, closing the file I was reading. 
"Thanks for calling ahead." 

"I saw you on CNN, Zoe," Alix said, sitting down across from my desk.  "I
didn't fucking believe it.  What kind of fascist pig are you working for?" 

"Wow, I didn't know you could get CNN on campus," I said, pointedly
ignoring the fascist pig remark.  "Isn't that sort of right wing
propaganda banned at Berkeley?" 

"Believe it or not, but Fox News is pretty popular at school," Alix said. 
"It helps focus our rage." 

"I believe it," I said.  "Give your sister a kiss and I'll tell you all
about the Program."  Alix leaned over my desk and we shared a brief hug. 
"I'm getting a cup of coffee.  Want one?" 

"Is it fair trade coffee?"

"It was brewed from beans picked by ex-members of the Chilean military
junta, sent into the hills by Maoist Sendero revolutionaries for
're-education'," I said.  "Good enough?" 

"Perfect," Alix giggled.

Seated on the couch in my office, sipping our Maoist coffee, I filled Alix
in on the Program and the events of the last week.  She was amused at
times, appalled at times, but behind her clear blue eyes I could see a
fire burning.  The Program played into her worst fears of corporatism run
amok.  When I had finished, she sat there silently. 

"Alix?"

"Yes?"

"This isn't your fight," I said, taking her hand in mine.

"But..."

"No, really.  You don't want a piece of this," I said.  "It's mine and
mine alone.  And I've already won." 

"Okay," she said, softly.  "I understand."  For the first time since she
arrived, I took a long look at her.  I hadn't seen her since the holidays;
her hair was purple then, now it was back to her natural red but still
sort of spiky, like a natural defense against the world.  She'd removed a
few of her piercings since the last time we'd been together.  Only a small
diamond stud in her nose and her earrings remained, an artifact of having
to do an internship at a television station that spring.  Journalism was
her major, but that was just a platform for her activism.  Her clothes
were neater, too: black jeans and t-shirt under a black leather jacket. 
No rips, no patches, no more safety pins.  My kid sister was growing up,
albeit reluctantly. 

"You look really good," I said.

"Thanks," she replied.  "So do you.  Sorry I just showed up."

"That's okay," I said.  "It'll be fun having you around, but I wish I had
a bit more notice.  I've got a date tonight, a party tomorrow, and my
car's going to be in the shop all weekend." 

"I'll be okay," Alix said.  "I've got my room mate's Jeep -- she flew home
for the weekend." 

"Great.  Maybe you can do me a favor and drive me back from the dealership
after I drop off my car.  We can get some lunch on the way back." 

"Sure, no problem," Alix said.  "I'll let you get back to work, maybe take
a walk around town 'til lunch.  See you in an hour or so." 

We hugged again, Alix left, and I sat down at my desk to make a few calls.


"Knock, knock," Danielle said, standing at my doorway about a half hour
after Alix left. 

"Come on in."

"So, it's your last day in the buff," she said, sitting down on my couch. 
"Excited?" 

"Relieved is more like it," I said.

"What did you and the Old Man talk about after we left?  If you don't mind
me asking..." 

"Not at all," I said.  Dani was my confidant; there wasn't much I didn't
tell her.  "I asked him if he was trying to sabotage the business on his
way out." 

"Is he?"

"He denies it, but with men you never know..."

"Subconsciously, maybe?"

"That had occurred to me.  With an ego that big, you never know what he's
capable of," I said.  "But he says he just wants to play golf and let me
run the show." 

"So, what are you going to do, Zoe?"

"I have no choice but to take him at his word," I said.  "But just to be
safe I'm thinking of hiring new corporate counsel.  Chuck Bratton's his
old drinking buddy and I don't trust him."  Charles Bratton was the
company's attorney, and he and the Old Man went way back.  If Ed had
something up his sleeve, Bratton would be his bag man.  Besides, he was a
competent, though unimaginative attorney, and I knew I could find better. 

"I heard Alix came by to visit," Danielle said.  "How's she doing?"

"She looks good.  Back to being a redhead, lost some of the piercings,
even put on a bit of weight," I replied.  Alix had always been a rail, and
our parents sometimes suspected an eating disorder.  "We're going to lunch
in a few.  Wanna come with?" 

"Sure, I'd love to.  I haven't seen Alix in a year."

As if on cue, Alix bopped into the office, carrying a shopping bag.

"There's this great vintage clothing store on Hastings Ave," she said,
pulling out a black velvet cocktail sheath.  "Isn't this great?  Oh, hey! 
Danielle!  I didn't see you!"  Alix put the dress aside and gave Dani a
hug and an air kiss.  "Come to lunch with us!" 

"Zoe just invited me," Dani replied.  "You're looking great, kid."

"Thanks!  So are you."

While Alix and Danielle caught up, I got dressed.  Program or no program,
there was no way I was going to go into the service department of a BMW
dealership naked, even if it did mean getting a free oil change.  Alix and
Danielle followed me in the Jeep while I drove to the dealer.  Leaving my
car over the weekend meant I wouldn't have to be without it during the
week, when I needed it the most.  By Monday, the balky power sunroof would
be fixed, the oil and transmission fluid would be changed, the coolant
would be flushed out and replaced, and the tires would be rotated.  These
were all things my father liked to do himself and, being the frugal sort
of guy that he is, would have liked to see me do for myself.  But living
in an apartment meant that I didn't have a garage or driveway in which to
do that sort of thing, even if I wanted to.  Besides, who has the time? 

Alix drove us back from the dealership in her room mate's Jeep, and we
stopped at a vegetarian restaurant for lunch.  My sister, of course, was a
committed vegan, despite the leather jacket and boots.  The fare wasn't
the sort of thing I'd want every day, but the salad was fresh and the
lentil soup was actually pretty damned good.  Over lunch, we dished about
the office, the Program, and especially Cal.  Alix was particularly
fascinated about Calvin Jessup Purdy, as if he were a Psych 301 case
study. 

"So, this Program thing started at a high school?" Alix asked.

"Apparently," I replied, filling her in on the research we had done on
those first couple of days, googling Cal's name and coming up with his
erotic stories. 

"It sounds like some sort of sordid Internet fantasy," she said.  "The
kind of thing you'd read on a web site for pervs." 

"Except in this case it's been tarted up with a glossy brochure, white
papers, and 'success stories'," Danielle said.  "If you're an MBA, it's
supposed to push all your buttons, get you to buy into the Program.  If it
works, it works.  If it doesn't, Cal gets to blame resistance on the part
of the employees.  Because, you know, there's not a staff in the world
that wouldn't resist." 

"And, because it's gender-neutral, any complaints of 'hostile workplace'
go by the boards," I added. 

"Fiendish," Alix said.  "He's a monocle and a shaved cat away from being
Dr. Evil from 'Austin Powers'."  She held her pinkie up to her lips in
that characteristic gesture.  I laughed so hard that I almost passed a
lentil through my nose. 


Back at the office, I gave Alix a spare set of keys to my apartment and
let her know I'd be home late, if at all.  I jotted down the number of a
pizza place and an Indian restaurant that delivered.  I knew the Indian
place had good veggie entrees.  Alix had my cell number if she needed me. 

When the weather was good, which was pretty much all the time out here,
there wasn't much point in getting any work done on a Friday.  All of the
people who mattered in this business were out of town for an extended
weekend, either Vegas or Palm Springs or Tahoe or Napa or some secluded
retreat in Montana.  So, on an afternoon like this, unless I had a meeting
scheduled, I'd catch up on e-mails and leave some phone messages, maybe go
out to scout some properties, but more often than not I'd leave work
early.  Like 3PM early. 

I was just about to get dressed and leave when Marie knocked on my door. 
She must have gone home at some point because she was wearing a different
bra and panty set -- pale yellow silk -- than the one she had worn the
night before.  And she had my blouse and skirt neatly folded. 

"You went home and changed?" I asked.

"Yeah.  I didn't want to wear my 'fuck me' panties at the office," she
said. 

"Too bad," I said.  "It's been a slow day."

"You're out with Coleman tonight?" she said, placing the skirt and blouse
on my desk. 

"Drinks and dinner."

"Can I see you later?"

"I don't know.  My sister dropped in for a surprise visit.  She'll be
crashing on my couch." 

"Oh," Marie said, visibly disappointed.  "Are you going to the party at
Ed's place Saturday?" 

"Yes.  You?"

"Yes," she said.  There was an uncomfortable tension between us.

"Sit with me," I said, motioning to the couch.  We sat down together,
Marie staring at the carpet.  "I wish we had more time this morning." 

"I know," she said.  "I do, too."

"I wanted to tell you how I feel, Marie."

"How do you feel?"  Marie looked me in the eyes for the first time since
she entered my office. 

"I feel like I'm falling in love with you," I said.  "But I also feel
confused.  I've never felt this way with another woman. 
It's...it's...it's something I have to come to grips with."  I took her
hands in mine.  Soft hands, lovely hands, long fingers and perfectly
manicured nails. 

"Oh."

"That's not enough for you, is it."

"I don't know, Zoe," Marie said.  "I feel like I'm being strung along
here.  While you're getting fucked by Roger or Coleman or a bunch of guys
at a party..." 

"It's not easy for me, Marie.  The feelings I have for Roger or anyone
else can't compare to what I feel for you..." 

"That you have any feelings at all for..."

"Stop this," I said.  "If this is the way things are going to be, then
nothing's going to work between us." 

"No, no, I didn't mean to..."  Marie's eyes were beginning to well with
tears.  "I just hate to think of you with anyone..." 

"Hey, Marie," I cooed, taking her in my arms, feeling her warm tears
falling on my shoulder.  "Shhh..." 

"I love you..." she said quietly.

"And I love you, too," I replied.  "But you need to give me some time
first, okay?" 

"Okay," she whispered.  "Okay."

I kissed her tears, pale salty streams on her cheeks, and then her lips. 
She sighed, and I felt her shoulders relax, the tension leaving her body. 

"I'm sorry, Zoe," Marie said.  "I'm being silly.  I know it's not easy for
you and I'm just making it harder." 

"It's okay, hon.  It's okay," I whispered.  "Just give me the time I
need." 

"I will," she said.  "I love you."

"I love you, too."

With that, Marie kissed me again and left.  Alone in my office, I thought
about canceling my date with Mark.  A quiet dinner with Marie sounded
nice.  But part of me, the part I called "Bad Zoe", the part of me that
partied in high school and college and pinched guys' butts in bars, that
part of me wanted to get fucked by Mark Coleman in the worst way.  I
wanted him to pound me so hard with that glorious cock of his that we'd
leave a Zoe-shaped indentation in the mattress. 

The office was all but deserted when I left.  I headed down to the street,
hailed a cab, and I was home in ten minutes.  Alix wasn't around so I
decided to take a nap before Mark picked me up.  I got undressed, set my
alarm for 5PM, and slipped under the covers of my bed. 


As I reached over to turn off the chirping alarm clock, I realized that I
wasn't alone in bed.  It took me a moment to realize that it was Alix. 
She'd slipped into bed while I was sleeping. 

"Couch folds out, you know," I said, looking around for my panties.  They
were somewhere around here. 

"I know," Alix replied.  "This looked more comfortable."

"I've got to get ready," I said, giving up on finding my underwear.  As
Alix's head dropped back on to the pillow, I headed in to the bathroom to
take a shower. 

"Hot date?" Alix asked, as I got dressed.

"Sort of," I said.

"Co-worker?"

"Client, actually."

"Oooh," Alix said, getting out of my bed.  "Isn't that against some rule
or something?" 

"Probably," I said, stepping into my red Nicole Miller cocktail dress. 
"Zip me?" 

"Sure," Alix replied.  "Nice dress."

"Thanks.  Glass of wine?"

"I'd like one, thanks," Alix said.  As I headed towards the kitchen, she
started to make the bed. 

We took our wine out to my balcony, listening to the sounds of late rush
hour traffic. 

"It's nice here," Alix said.

"What, this town or the balcony?"

"The balcony," she said.  "Too many Orange County types in this town for
my taste." 

"Think you'll stay up there after school?"

"I'd like to, but the housing prices are totally psychotic," she replied. 
"I was thinking maybe Boston or Seattle, but it really comes down to where
I get hired." 

"Thought about grad school?"

"Yeah," Alix said.  "But I want to work for a year or two first, give Mom
and Dad a break with the finances." 

"They're doing pretty well," I said.

"True, but I really want to pay my own way through grad school," she said.

"Good for you," I said, gently squeezing her shoulder.  "But if you need
help with that, I'm here for you, too." 

"Thanks."

The intercom sounded, and I went to answer it.  It was Mark Coleman, and I
told the doorman to send him up.  Three minutes later, the doorbell rang. 

"Wow," Mark said, standing in my doorway.  Dressed in an expensive blue
suit and holding a bouquet of flowers, he looked me up and down, toe to
head, before awkwardly thrusting the bouquet towards me.  Clearly, this
was a man who hadn't had been out on a date in a long time. 

"Thanks," I said, taking the bouquet.  "Won't you come in?"

"Thank you," he said.  "Nice place."

"I like it.  Alix, this is Dr. Mark Coleman.  Mark, this is my sister,
Alix." 

"Pleased to meet you," Alix said, extending her hand for a shake.

"The pleasure is mine," he said.

"Let me put these in water for you, Zoe," Alix said, taking the bouquet
from me. 

"Thanks, hon.  Glass of wine, Mark?"

"Ummm..."  He looked at his watch.  "We've got 7:30 reservations, so..."

"Oh, okay," I said.  "Let me get my purse."

"Now, you two..." Alix said, returning from the kitchen with the bouquet,
now ensconced in a ceramic vase, "I want you in bed by ten and home by
eleven." 

"Yes, Mom," I chuckled, hooking my arm around Mark's.  We left the
apartment and headed down to his car.  Instead of his SUV, Mark had driven
his Mercedes coupe.  He unlocked the door and opened it for me. 


Dinner was at an upscale seafood place right on the beach.  We were seated
by the windows, with a perfect view of the sand, the sea, and the sunset. 

"I...I want to apologize in advance," Mark said, after the waiter had
taken our drink orders. 

"Apologize for what?"

"It's been a while since I've done this," he said.  "Dating."

"Relax, Mark," I said.  "Enjoy yourself.  I know I will."

"I'll try," he said.  We sat in silence, reading our menus, until the
waiter returned with our drinks.  I ordered the grilled salmon, Mark the
swordfish. 

"Great view," Mark said, as the sun just began to touch the horizon.

"It is," I said.

"So, how was your week with the Program?" Mark asked, taking a sip of his
scotch. 

"Like hell on earth," I said.

"That bad?"

"Just this week, I gave a lap dance in order to close a lease, I blasted a
consultant in the crotch with a taser, I was on local and network
television naked, I went out on a date with a geek --  which wasn't that
bad -- and I sucked the cock of a civil servant."  I instantly regretted
that last item, seeing as I'd done that to get a stop-work order on Mark's
new office rescinded. 

"Have I mentioned how much I appreciate what you've done for me?" Mark
said. 

"Yes, you did," I said, recalling our brief tryst in the back of his SUV. 
"I shouldn't have mentioned..." 

"But you did," Mark said.

"I'm sorry.  This whole Program thing..."

"You don't have to explain..."

"No, I do," I said.  "It's made me do things I wouldn't have..."

"Like go out with me?"

There was a pregnant pause as Mark took another sip of his scotch.  I
started to lift my wine glass. 

"I would have gone out with you, Program or no Program," I said.

"That's good to hear."

The waiter appeared with our salads, and that seemed to be the cue to
segue to first date small talk: my sister, Mark's practice, my company,
the weather, local politics.  What tension there was between us over
drinks dissipated during the main course.  Mark seemed more at ease, too. 

After dinner and coffee, Mark and I took a walk on the beach.  It was
dark, the stars were out, and the gentle lapping of the surf seemed almost
hypnotic.  When a cool breeze began to blow off the water, Mark noticed
the goosebumps on my arms and took off his jacket, draping it around my
shoulders. 

We sat on an out cropping of rocks and shared a kiss.  Considering our
tryst in his SUV the other day, Mark was surprisingly tentative, but that
didn't last too long.  As we kissed, he wrapped his strong hands around my
waist, caressing me, gently squeezing my waist.  I felt like he could have
picked me up and taken me right there on the beach. 

"Let's go back to your place," I said.

"Sounds like a plan," he replied.  In his car, I called Alix to let her
know I wouldn't be home.  When she answered her cell, I could hear music
and voices in the background. 

"Hey, I figured you'd stay out tonight," Alix said.  "Fun date so far?"

"So far, yes," I said.  "Who are you with?"

"Gabe and Alice dropped by looking for you," she replied.  "I'm up at
their place, having a drink." 

"You what?"

"They're nice people, Zoe."

"Alix, they're swingers," I said.  "I don't think you should..."

"Don't worry about me, Zoe," she said.  I could hear Alice giggling in the
background.  "I gotta go.  Bye."  I barely had time to say goodbye before
she ended the call. 

"Everything okay?" Mark asked.

"I guess," I said.  "My little sister is hanging out with my upstairs
neighbors." 

"Is that bad?" Mark asked.  "How old is she?"

"Alix is twenty," I replied.  "But these people are...".

"Swingers," he said.  "Yeah, I heard.  We can head to your place if you
like." 

"No, that's okay," I said.  "Thanks anyway."

"You sure?"

"Alix is a big girl.  She can take care of herself."  To tell the truth, I
was sort of worried, but I made an effort to put it out of my head.  Maybe
she wouldn't end up in bed with them.  And if she did, so what?  I'd known
some of the guys Alix had dated in high school; she'd dated some real
rough types.  The things Alice and Gabe were into were pretty tame by
comparison. 

Mark's house was up in the hills, a single-story contemporary
half-supported with stilts driven into the rocky hillside.  As we drove up
a winding canyon road, I could see the remnants of mudslides and
brushfires, and the wreckage of a neighboring home that hadn't survived
the record winter rains.  Mark turned into his driveway, parked next to
his SUV, and turned off the engine of his coupe.  Before I could even
unbuckle my seatbelt, he was out of the car and walking around to my side
to open the door. 

"After our divorce, my wife moved back east," Mark said, unlocking the
front door of his house.  "So I got to keep this place.  I really like
it." 

I could see why.  The view from the living room was breathtaking, with the
whole city lit up in front of us, a carpet of light that led to the ocean. 

"Nightcap?" Mark asked.

"Please." I replied.  "White wine if you have it."

Mark poured himself a scotch and we took our drinks out to the balcony. 
The air was warmer up in the hills, and there was a distinct scent of the
cactus flowers that had just begun to bloom that week. 

"It's beautiful," I said, taking a sip of my wine.

"So are you," Mark said, embracing me from behind.  He gently moved my
hair to the side and kissed me on the neck.  I pushed my bottom back
against his hips and felt something begin to grow between his legs.  For a
moment, I forgot about Alix, forgot about Marie, and briefly wondered what
it would be like to live here with Mark. 

Mrs. Zoe Coleman.

Crap.  What a puerile little high school fantasy.  What's next, writing
"Mrs. Zoe Coleman" in florid script on the cover of my looseleaf notebook? 

I set my wine glass down on the balcony railing and turned in Mark's
embrace, facing him.  Our lips met, locked, tongues melting together. 
Mark caressed my neck, down my back, his strong hands cupping my bottom,
squeezing me.  I moaned and almost involuntarily rose up on my tiptoes,
nearly falling off balance.  Mark's grip on me tightened, keeping me on my
feet. 

"Bedroom?" he whispered.

"Yes, please."

Without warning, Mark swept me up, off my feet, and carried me back into
the house, through the living room, down a long hallway, and into his
bedroom.  Instead of placing me on the bed, he put me down on my feet in
front of a mirrored closet. 

"Unzip me?" I asked.  Without replying, he tugged at the zipper of my
dress, slowly pulling it down towards the small of my back.  I shrugged
off the shoulder straps, exposing my breasts, and the dress fell, pooling
around my feet.  I stood before the mirror in only my panties and heels as
Mark reached around and cupped my breasts. 

"Your turn," I said, turning around and loosening his tie.  He shrugged
off his jacket and began unbuttoning his shirt while I went to work on his
trousers.  As Mark sat down on the edge of his bed to untie his shoes, I
noticed that his white boxers were made of silk. 

"Nice underwear," I said, stepping out of my heels.

"I like to indulge myself sometimes," he replied, skinning off his socks. 
The silk boxers were next to go, revealing his glorious erection, pulsing
as it pointed towards the bedroom's skylight.  I stepped forward until I
was standing between his knees.  Mark looked up at me and gently hooked
his fingers into the waistband of my black lace thong, slowly drawing it
over my hips and down my thighs, exposing my freshly trimmed pubic hair. 

"Lovely," he sighed, as my panties fell down around my ankles.  I stepped
out of them and knelt on the carpet, between his thighs, gently taking his
member in my hands.  As I slowly stroked his shaft, he leaned forward to
kiss me, his hands resting on my shoulders.  I broke off our kiss and
lowered my head towards his beautiful cock, kissing the tip of his flaring
glans.  Mark let out a soft groan as my lips enveloped the crown of his
penis, my tongue swirling over that sensitive spot on the bottom of his
member. 

Mark leaned back on his elbows as I slowly sucked him, stroking the base
of his shaft with one hand and cupping his balls with the other.  I began
to increase the pace, my head bobbing above his hips, my tongue dancing
over his shaft and glans.  Mark reached forward to brush my hair away from
my face, and his hips began to move in time with my sucking, making the
bedsprings quietly squeak.  I looked up at him and saw his chest begin to
heave as he breathed, his eyelids growing heavier, his lips slightly
parted. 

"Oh, God," he murmured as I sucked him faster.  My hands were as busy as
my tongue and lips, caressing his scrotum, fingers encircling the base of
his shaft, holding the skin of his penis taut.  I tilted my head from side
to side as I sucked his cock, my tongue swirling over his lovely stem. 
Suddenly, I felt his glans begin to flare and throb, his balls swelling in
my hand.  He started to say something, a warning perhaps, and then he let
loose, a torrent of hot, creamy semen filling my mouth, spurt after salty
spurt.  After our encounter in his SUV I knew he came a lot, but if that
was a pint, this seemed like a quart.  I could barely swallow it all. 

Finally, the flow subsided and his cock began to soften in my mouth.  As I
cleaned off his glans with my tongue and planted another gently kiss on
the tip, Mark tugged at my shoulder and pulled me on top of his recumbent
form. 

"Missed a spot," he said, licking off a thin drip of semen that had leaked
from the corner of my mouth.  As we kissed, I knew he could taste his own
seed on my lips and tongue.  A lot of men get squicked by that sort of
thing, but not Mark.  He seemed to relish it. 

"Ever thought of becoming a sperm donor?" I asked him.

"Actually, when I was in med school..."

"Really?"

"I needed the cash," he said.  I laid on top of him for a while, savoring
the way he caressed my back and arms.  We kissed again, sharing the taste
of his sperm, until he broke it off. 

"Your turn," he said, rolling me off of his chest.  I scooted up on the
bed, my head on the pillows, as Mark laid down next to me, his hands
roaming over my body. 

"Mmmmm..." was all I could say as his lips found one of my nipples and his
fingers found the other.  He swirled his tongue around it, making it
stiffen and crinkle, while he gently pinched the other.  Then he began to
work his way down my body, planting a trail of kisses and tracing my
curves with his fingers.  I felt a tingle of anticipation as I felt his
warm breath form a cloud over my sex, but he made a detour past my cleft
and began kissing my thighs instead, his fingers finding a sensitive place
on the backs of my knees, sending yet another tingly chill up my spine. 
It seemed like Mark lingered on my thighs forever, but it was only a few
moments.  Then I felt his breath again, getting closer to my center. 

It started with a gentle kiss on my labia, then a probing tongue, parting
me, ever so slightly dipping into my sex, as if to gauge my wetness.  Mark
didn't rush this, didn't go straight for the clitoris.  He teased that,
too, circling it, studiously avoiding it, building up my anticipation
until I began to squirm in his hands.  When he finally made direct contact
with my secret pearl, it was like an electric shock coursing through my
body. 

Mark cupped my bottom in his strong hands and brought my hips up to his
mouth, ravishing my sex with his lips and tongue, his fingers probing my
cleft and crack, just barely penetrating me.  I felt my pleasure begin to
build, a kernel of fire in the pit of my belly that grew with every flick
of his tongue on my clit.  As he began to nibble on my button, gently
grazing it with his teeth, my back involuntarily arched and I grabbed two
fistsful of duvet with my hands. 

"Ungh...yes...like that...like that!"  Mark didn't need any encouragement
or instruction.  He knew what to do, knew what I liked.  I felt a finger,
then two, slipping inside me as he swirled his tongue over and around my
clit.  There was a secret spot inside my passage, one I barely even knew
existed, but Mark found it.  Just the barest pressure with his fingertip
was enough to make me cry out in ecstasy.  I screamed like a madwoman as I
came, my body going completely rigid, my thighs clamping down on Mark's
head as if to hold him against my sex forever.  Despite this, he didn't
let up, keeping his lips and tongue glued to my sex, ravishing me,
possessing me, and he didn't let up until I sat up in bed and pushed
against his shoulders. 

"Omigod...," was all I could manage to say.  Mark looked up and smiled,
the lower part of his face glistening with my juices, and crawled up next
to me to cradle me in his arms.  I was still trembling from my orgasm. 

"You okay?" Mark asked, kissing me gently on my forehead.

"Mmmm...," I murmured.  "Thirsty..."

"Water?  Or should I get your wine?"

"Both," I said.  Mark laughed and kissed me again before getting out of
bed.  I couldn't help but notice that his cock was nearly hard again.  He
returned a moment later carrying our drinks and a carafe of ice water on a
tray.  Mark placed this on the bedside table, poured me a glass of water,
and got back into bed next to me. 

"Thanks," I said, nearly draining the glass.  I reached past him for my
wine and took a sip.  "You know, if that was meant to be foreplay..." 

"No, that was the main event," Mark said, taking a sip of his scotch. 
"Get dressed, I'll drive you home". 

"What?  You mean...?"  My heart sank.  I was dying to feel his magnificent
cock inside me.  What an asshole. 

"Just kidding," he laughed.

"You're terrible," I said, poking him in the ribs.  I put my wine glass
down and straddled his hips, pinning his shoulders against the bed.  "Just
for that, I'm leaving". 

"Oh no, you're not," he chuckled, grabbing me by the waist and rolling us
both over on the big bed.  I could feel his cock growing, pressing against
my thighs as he kissed me, a hard kiss, an aggressive kiss, our tongues
mashing against each other.  I reached down to stroke him, feeling his
shaft engorge with blood, growing fully erect, and I pressed the tip
against my wet sex, lubricating his glans.  Mark complied by pushing
forward with his hips, penetrating my cleft, stretching me, filling me. 

"Oooohhh...," I cooed as his wonderful cock entered my passage.  I could
feel every ridge and vein on his shaft, gliding over my most sensitive
spots.  I pressed down against his hips, urging him inside me. 

"Okay?" Mark asked.  "Not too big?"

"Perfect," I whispered.  "Just what I needed."

"That's what I like to hear," he said.  And with that, he began to slowly
thrust in and out of my hungry sex.  I wrapped my legs around his and
rocked my hips to meet his thrusts.  It felt every bit as good as I
expected. 

As Mark began to pick up the pace, he leaned down to kiss my shoulder, my
neck, my forehead, the tip of my nose, my chin, and finally my lips.  My
hands roamed over his strong back, feeling the muscles tensing and
relaxing beneath his skin.  His cock felt wonderful inside me, leaving an
empty void with each out-stroke, and filling me completely with each
in-stroke. 

Mark's hips pumped faster and faster, and he wrapped his arms around me,
holding me tight as he fucked me with long, hard strokes.  I was nearly
immobilized, only able to move my hips against his, and I felt as if he
had total control of my body, possessing me with his strong arms, his
rippling back, and his hard, throbbing cock.  It wasn't a bad feeling; no,
I enjoyed  being helpless beneath him as he pounded my sex with his thick
shaft.  "I could get used to this," I thought, as my pleasure began to
rise. 

"You feel so good," Mark whispered in my ear.  He began corkscrewing his
hips as he fucked me, churning my sex with his thick tool. 

"Mmmmmm...so do you," I murmured.  "Harder...fuck me harder," I urged him.

"You sure?"

"Harder..."

My wish was his command.  Mark began pumping my tender pussy with his fat
cock, making my breasts jiggle against his chest.  I felt my climax begin
to spread, starting at my center and radiating through my body, out
towards my limbs.  I quivered beneath his body, breathless, my back
arching against his torso, my hips pushing against his.  I cried out in
ecstasy, digging into the muscles of his back with my fingers, urging him
to fuck me faster, harder, deeper. 

It was like nothing I've ever felt, an orgasm so intense that I saw stars,
bright silver stars against a blood red field, I heard the ocean waves
breaking against the shore, and I swear to God I smelled cotton candy. 

As my climax began to subside, Mark was still pounding away at my spasming
sex, and he didn't seem to be close to his own release.  I tried to clamp
down on his shaft as it sawed in and out of my cleft, but I felt like I
had no muscle control down there.  I was beginning to get sore and he was
nowhere near his climax. 

"Come for me," I said, finally finding my voice.

"I'm close," Mark replied.  Suddenly, he pulled out of me, leaving me
feeling empty, bereft.  "Roll over," he said, releasing me from his
embrace. 

Somehow, I found the strength to turn over on to my belly.  Mark pulled my
hips up, exposing my cleft, and mounted me again, driving his cock deep
into my passage.  I felt his hands on my hips as he began to fuck me with
long, slow strokes. 

"You're starting to dry out," he said, sounding more like a gynecologist
than a lover.  "Does that happen often?" 

"No, not really," I replied.

"This might help," he said, extending his body so he could reach into the
bedside table.  He pulled out a tube of something -- I couldn't see what
-- and I heard the sound of something being squirted behind me.  Suddenly,
there was a warm sensation on his cock and a slipperiness that hadn't been
there before. 

"What's that?"

"Oh, just a sample from the office," he replied.  "Feel okay?"

"Yes, better," I replied.  It did feel better.  I felt a warmth spreading
from down there, and the slight soreness began to subside.  I could easily
have gone all night. 

"I'll be there soon," Mark whispered, his hands reaching for my breasts. 
"I'm sorry it's taking so long." 

"Don't be," I said.  "You feel wonderful."  I tried bearing down on his
shaft again, and found that I had regained enough muscle control to
tighten my passage around his shaft. 

"So do you," Mark said.  "Ah, you've exercised your Kegels.  Do that
again." 

As he slowly slid his cock in and out of my cleft, I clamped down around
his shaft again, getting a groan of pleasure in reply. 

"Mmmmm...once more," he said.  This time, I felt a stutter in his rhythm,
a hitch in the motion of his hips.  His cock seemed to grow even larger
inside me. 

"Ungh...yes...," he groaned.  There was a flood of warmth inside me as he
came, filling me with spurt after spurt of hot, thick semen.  It seemed
like it would never end, but eventually it did.  Mark rolled over on to
his side, taking me with him, still connected to me by his spasming cock. 
He pulled my hair away from my neck and gently kissed me there, on my
earlobe, on my cheek.  As we lay quietly together, his hands roamed over
my body, caressing me, cupping my breasts as he kissed me. 

I could have fallen asleep like that, except for the fact that I was
parched.  When I reached for the glass of water on the bedside table, his
softening cock slipped out of me, followed by a trickle of semen. 

"Sorry," I said, taking a big sip from the glass.

"For what?"

"I wanted you to stay inside me all night."

"Give me a little while and maybe we can work something out," he said,
laughing as he took me in his arms.  I put the glass down and faced him,
my lips finding his, our tongues meeting and melting together once again. 

I was beyond contentment.  That "Mrs. Mark Coleman" fantasy didn't seem so
puerile now.  But in the back of my mind, I couldn't help but think of
Marie, and I couldn't help but think of this as a betrayal.  I could be
happy with Mark, maybe for the rest of my life.  Could I be happy with
Marie for just as long? 

I rolled over and Mark embraced me from behind, his slick cock nestled
between my cheeks, his hands still roaming over my body, sculpting my
curves as if he was committing my form to memory.  I felt his cock begin
to stir and stiffen. 

"You're insatiable," I said, pushing my bottom against his hips.

"I'm not always like this," he replied.  "It must be who I'm with."

"I'm not sure I'm up for this again."  Despite the miracle lubricant, I
felt slightly sore down there. 

"It's okay," he said.  "Let's just lie here."

It wasn't okay to me.  I wanted more than anything to give him pleasure.

"You know, if you wanted to..."

"What?" Mark asked.

"Well, you could..."  I wiggled my bottom against his cock for emphasis.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"Then say it."

"Say what?"

"Say what you want me to do," Mark said.  His cock was hard again.

"Mark..."

"Say it."

"Okay," I relented.  "My ass."

"What about your ass?" he asked.

"I want you in me."

"In where?"

"I want you in my ass," I said.

"Really?"

"Yes," I said.  "Fuck my ass, Mark."

"If you insist."  He reached for the bottle of lubricant and squirted some
on his fingers.  I felt him probing between my cheeks, finding my nether
hole, probing me, penetrating me with his slick fingers. 

"Roll over," he commanded.  I turned over on to my belly again and felt
him slip another finger inside me, loosening me, lubricating me.  It
wasn't at all unpleasant, but that was just a finger or two.  His thick
cock would be another matter entirely. 

"Let me know if this hurts," he said, squiring more of the lubricant on
his penis.  "I don't want to hurt you." 

"Okay," I said, steeling myself against the onslaught of his fat prick.  I
took a deep breath and grabbed one of the pillows as he pressed the head
of his cock against my tight little hole.  I took another deep breath as I
felt the head pop inside me. 

"Push against it," Mark said.  "It'll help."

"Okay," I said, feeling even more of his thick shaft worm its way inside
my bottom.  I felt a slick finger reaching around my hips, feeling for my
clit, rubbing it as he worked his fat tool into my ass. 

"You okay?" Mark asked.

"Yes," I replied.

"Hurt?"

"Just a little," I said.  "Keep going."  It did hurt, that much was true. 
But I wanted to do this, to give myself to him, all of me, not just my
mouth and my pussy.  I wanted him to have my ass, my heart, my soul.  All
of me. 

"So tight," Mark said, as he filled my bottom with his member.  It took a
few minutes, but I finally felt his pubes brushing against my ass. 

"Keep going," I said.  "I'm fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes," I said.  "Fuck my ass, Mark."

Without a word, Mark began to slowly thrust in and out of my bottom with
his magnificent cock, all the while worrying my clit with a slick digit. 
I pushed back against his thrusts, the pain gone, only pleasure ahead.  I
was proud of myself for taking him inside me, for pleasing him, for
pleasuring him. 

Mark knew what he was doing with his fingers.  Between the sheer nastiness
of having his thick tool in my bottom and his digital expertise, I felt
another climax rising.  This one was not as intense as the last, but it
was a gift nonetheless.  It wasn't long after that Mark came, too,
spurting his seed in my bottom.  A meager offering, considering this was
his third orgasm of the night, but I felt it anyway, a burst of warmth
inside me. 

"Stay inside me," I urged him as I felt him begin to pull out afterwards.

"Can't," he said.  "I've got to..."  He headed for the bathroom and closed
the door.  Over the sound of running water I could hear him empty his
bladder and brush his teeth.  When he returned to bed, I could smell the
soap he'd used to clean off his cock. 

"Come here," I said, holding out my arms.  He fell into my embrace and we
kissed.  I could taste his toothpaste. 

"Can you stay the night?" Mark asked.

"I was hoping to," I said.  "I do have to get home early tomorrow,
though." 

"Work?"

"Tennis with a co-worker, actually."

"Sounds like fun," Mark said.  "I'm up around seven or eight on weekends."

"That's cool," I said, rolling over so he could hold me from behind.  As
his freshly washed cock took its place between my cheeks, he kissed me on
the cheek. 

"Let's do this again some time," he said.

"Fine with me," I replied.

As I listened to Mark drift off to sleep, I took stock of the events of
the week.  What had started as an abject lesson in humiliation at the
hands of Cal turned out to be my greatest triumph.  I had emerged from the
vicissitudes of the Program a stronger person, having met and surmounted
every challenge that was placed before me.  I had closed a deal, fallen in
love with Marie, tasered Cal in the crotch, turned Roger from geek to
stud,  manipulated a crowd of thousands of people, gave a televised
interview, got a stop-work order rescinded, made some new and powerful
friends, brought my car in for servicing, and took a desirable and wealthy
physician to bed.  More importantly, the firm was now mine, to do as I saw
fit. 

I came to a decision while I lay in bed in Dr. Mark Coleman's arms,
listening to his steady, slow breathing.  I would keep Cal on the payroll,
and I would continue the Program.  Except the humiliation wouldn't be my
staff's.  It would be Cal's. 

I am Zoe, Realtor Goddess.  Feel my wrath.