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****She****We pull away and gaze into each other's eyes, passion smoldering just beneath the surface as we realize we're in the wrong venue for the next round.Without a word, we head for the door. In the dark of the small parking lot, we each press the keyless entry buttons for our cars.Damn! His Ferrari trumps my Porsche, and I push the other button on my key tab, re-locking the Porsche.With aplomb, he offers a hand to help me into the passenger seat. I have no choice but to accept.Nothing is said as the powerful engine of the red, low-slung car sweeps us toward his home-court and away from mine.****He****I can't help feeling a little smug as I offer my hand to help her out of the car.In the elevator, I use the back of my middle finger to caress her slender neck down to the point of a white shoulder bared by the slippage of her top, leaving her looking delicate, vulnerable.She shivers and turns to me, slipping a small hand inside the open top of my shirt. Her eyes burn into mine as. He caught a dirty look from one of those Plain-Jane secretaries, butjust went strutting right past her, pretending he didn't notice.He saw that old janitor really checking out his ass, and somehow managedto put a little bit of extra wiggle into it for his benefit. He couldn'tblame the old fart - his six-inch heels REALLY made it poke outscrumptiously.Another woman was giving him the death-glare, so he started girlishlyfiddling with one of his cute little braids to piss her off even more...Working here was SO much better than all those other places, with theirdumb 'Dress Codes' and stuff, besides, his boss was REALLY...Graham gaped as he came out of it again.This time on the other side of the desk.I could see from the look of his face that he wanted nothing more thanto scream and run out of the room, or at least reach down and check thatthe fat tits dancing on his little chest were real. But he was only ableto sit there quietly as I scrutinized him from behind my big, imposingoak.
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As in the dark, his thoughts wereall he had.The parking lot was in the middle of what used to be a farmer's field. Hedid not work at the main corporate headquarters, but one of the much lessglamorous satellite offices. In the distance was the constant rumble ofthe UPS trucks moving around the shipping depot and the sound of eighteen-wheelers rolling down the highway to the other side. Always one of thelast out of the office, although he hated his job, and the people heworked with, it paid the bills, and his work ethic prevented him from nottrying his best, despite it all. Ten yards from his car, he thought ofwhat to heat in the microwave for his dinner He could not even yell into the dark to, perhaps, attract some attention. He imagined his mouth must be a full of respiration tubes of some kind, asthe constant pressure on his face and chest would preclude him fromdrawing normal breath. Similarly, he felt no hunger, but was obviouslyreceiving nourishment from some external.

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