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Message-ID: <44699asstr$1065921002@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: kellis <kellis@dhp.com>
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Subject: {ASSM} Favors {Kellis} (MF oral)
Date: Sat, 11 Oct 2003 21:10:02 -0400
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Favors

a Short Story
Copyright (C) Fall, 2003, Kellis





"We're due for a raise next week."

Having poured her husband's evening Coors and her own Chardonnay,
Laura dropped her bomb without looking up.

The man scanned her face across the dinette table, finding the
expected stoicism and perhaps something more.  "He told you
tonight, did he?"

"Yes."  She sipped her wine and made a face.  "This is that cheap
brand again."  She chuckled self-effacingly.  "I can't keep them
straight."

"Put a little salt in it like you did the last time," he
suggested, following the words with a sarcastic chuckle.  "Does
it taste worse now than it did when he told you?"

Tension appeared in the planes of her cheeks.  "Howard ..." she
began.

"He did make you, I assume?"

She took a breath.  Her eyes were downcast.

Howard gritted his teeth.  "Goddamn that son of a bitch ..."  He
also paused for breath.  "How did we let him get in this habit,
Laura?"

She looked up then away.  "You know how."

"Yeah.  Because we're weak."

She sighed.

"Weak!" he repeated.  "Because _I'm_ weak.  If I was any kind of
a man I'd fix that bastard."

"Howard, please.  You know we have to think about Emily.  And our
future."

Despite his show of anger, Howard carefully set his beer mug down
on the table before getting to his feet and taking the three
paces that brought him to the limits of the small kitchen.  Fists
clenched in frustration, he whirled back to face his wife.  "Tell
it all.  Did you suck his cock before or _after_ he told you?"

"As a matter of fact," she murmured, still not looking at him, 
"he told me quite a while before."

"'Quite a while?'  What does that mean?"

"He told me this afternoon.  I didn't ... do it until everyone
else left."

"'Do it!'  Christ, Laura, if you can _do_ it, can't you say the
name of it?"

Again she sighed.

He shook his head and matched her sigh.  "I guess it's another
piddling raise like the last."

"Not so piddling.  That was part of the problem."

He stared at her for several seconds before finally resuming his
seat at the table.  "Tell the _whole_ story, Laura."


[Set Quote Font]

 Mr. Lindsey called me into his office a little after lunch.  He
said, "Close the door.  This is personal."

 I told you how he split his britches seam last week.  I thought
maybe he wanted me to staple it again, but when I closed the
door, he surprised me.

 He reared back in his big chair and smiled at me.  He was in a
good mood.  "I got the figures last night, Laura.  Lindsey
Acquisitions cleared six million dollars on the Heywood deal.
That's _cleared_, Laura!  And because it's a planned reclamation
the taxes are excused."

 That was surprising.  You did the prospecting, Howard, and I did
the workup on Heywood.  We were only supposed to clear one mil.
Lindsey probably placed a lot of fake bids to run up the price,
like he did for Murphy Tilings.  I just hope he had enough sense
to use his anonymous login.  Anyway all I said was, "That's
wonderful news, Mr. Lindsey."

 "Yes, isn't it!"  He was still smiling.  "And I want to reward
my two people who made it possible to unload those ruins."

 I was startled.  "Bonuses?"

 "No, not bonuses.  We don't want to create _that_ kind of
precedent.  I was thinking of nice fat raises."

 I gave him a bright smile.  "I'll prepare the Employee
Compensation forms immediately."  I blinked.  "Or do you need
such forms for vice presidents?"

 "For whom?"  He stared at me then laughed his odd cackle that
usually means he's setting me up.  "Not those drones, Laura.  I
mean raises for Mr. and Mrs. Burton."

 You know how much we need money right now.  I'm afraid my face
lit up before I realized what else it meant.

 "Good news, eh, Laura?  Why not, for the sweet-mouthed admin who
does everything superbly, even that?"  He laughed even harder as
my face went blank.

 "So, Laura, I want you to prepare two Employee Comp forms, one
for you and one for your husband.  And get this: _you_ choose the
size of the raises.  How does that suit you?"

 "Ah, uh ..."  I'm sorry, Howie, but all I could think of was
what kind of extra favors he might want this time.

 "Well, don't just stand there, Laura.  Get on it."

 His cackle followed me out to my desk.  I called up a form, put
your name on it and dithered.  I tried to call you but your cell
was out of range.  Then I remembered you were doing the Waterford
appraisal, where all the buildings are made of sheet metal.  I
wonder how management gets cell phones to work in places like
that!

 Anyway I filled out the forms and got printouts.  But Lindsey
had left the office.  He returned just before closing, leaned
over my desk and said, "Stick around, Laura.  I'll call you in a
minute."

 I made sure I had Kleenex and mints in my pockets.  As usual,
the office emptied fast.  By the time the intercom squawked, I
couldn't see another soul.

 I closed his door behind me and marched up to his desk with the
two forms in my hand.  He grinned and said, "Come around here,
Laura."

 I know I winced, remembering.  I said, "Please, Mr. Lindsey, 
won't you roll your chair out here?  The last time I came back 
there I tore my hose and bruised my knees on your chair runner."

 He blinked, barked a laugh and shook his head.  "Don't be in
such a rush.  I just want to show you something."

 "That's what I mean."

 "No, no.  On the desk."

 Doubtfully I came around the desk to his elbow.  He pointed to
his big computer display.  "You see that?  It's the first floor
plan."  He hit a key on his keyboard.  "And that's the second
floor plan.  See these two dots side by side?  That's you and me.
You know what this means?"

 His computer was running the building security program that I
installed.  I was only too aware of what it meant.  The Doppler
and infrared detectors were saying that he and I were the only
two souls left in the building.

 "We're alone," I said, taking a deep breath.

 He touched another key.  I heard the solenoids clunk even on the
second floor through his closed door.  "And now all the outside
doors are locked up tight.  Let me see what kind of raises you
and Howard are getting."

 I passed him the forms.  He gave them one glance and burst out
laughing so hard that his face turned red.  I waited, not even
curious.

 When he caught his breath, he said, still huffing a little, "I
made a bet with you, behind your back, so to speak.  I bet if you
asked for a good merit raise, I'd give it without extra favor.
If you didn't, however ..."  He laughed again and said
scornfully, "A hundred a month for your husband and 50 for you!"

 "I thought it would be safe," was all I could think to say,
which after all was only the truth.  "That was the amount of our
last raises."

 Suddenly he was serious.  "How about 800 a month for Howard and
400 for you?"

 My knees wobbled.  That would be over 14,000 a year gross!  I
had to brace on the edge of his desk.  He was staring up at me
from the corner of his eye.  I felt something strange under my
skirt.  I think it was the first time he has ever touched me
below the shoulder.  He was feeling inside my thigh.

 "I'll sign the new forms as soon as you print them out.  And
Laura, I want to see _real_ favors for this!"

 I couldn't think what to say.  I shuddered involuntarily when he
pressed up between the legs of my panty hose.  Nobody ever
touches me there but you.

 He withdrew his hand and said, "Take off your clothes."

 "My, my clothes?"

 He stood up.  "All of them."

 "B-but ..."

 He threw his necktie on the desk and gestured at the display.  
"Nobody can see us, you know.  Hang your stuff on that chair."

 He waited for me to finish.  His thing was already half-hard.
He caught my hand.  "Come on."  He led me out into the main
office.

 I shrank back.  "The windows!"

 "They're high in the walls, Laura, and the birds don't care what
we do.  Here.  I'll sit on your desk.  You can sit in your chair
and give your knees a break."

 But first he had to play with my boobs.  "I think I've wanted to
do this since the first day you came to work here.  That was the
day I opened my father's bible and read about King David and
Bathsheba."  He chuckled.  "Too bad we have no Philistines.
Laura, you're such a beautiful woman, even with a few wrinkles.
Hell, I have a few myself.  They don't stop either of us.  And
_fine_ is the only word for these heavies.  Ah, I love the way
the nips pop up!  Pardon me.  Having you so completely available
loosens my tongue in more ways than one.  Please have a seat."

 I sat.  And I did it.


[Set Normal Font]

Howard snarled, "_Did_ it?  Damn it, Laura, say what you did."

"Don't you curse me, Howard Burton!  I did it for you as much as
anyone."

He leaned back in his chair with a hollow chuckle.  "You can't
suck a cock for a different man."

"Yes, you can too!"  She looked away.  "I didn't mean to tell you
all of it, Howie."  She sighed deeply.  "That was only the start."


"What?  What do you mean?"


[Set Quote Font]

 I spat in a Kleenex from the box on my desk and found a mint in
the drawer.

 Lindsey said, "Do you swallow it from Howard?"

 When I didn't answer, he grinned and said, "I'm jealous.  Now 
I'll change places with you."

 He made me sit on the edge of the desk.  He sat in my chair and
pushed his cheeks between my thighs.  "Ah, such velvet skin!"
Then he was licking me.  He does that very well.  When I couldn't
stand it anymore, he stood up and ... took his tongue's place.
He put his arms around me and made me kiss him.


[Set Normal Font]

"With his tongue, no doubt."

She sighed.  "Yes, Howie."

"So there he was, the son of a bitch, fucking _my_ wife on her
own desk.  Oh, god _damn_ it!"  Howard jumped erect, shoving his
chair back to clang against the electric range, and took his three
strides again.  "First you sucked him, then he licked your cunt
and --  Did you _like_ that?"

"N-no, Howie."

He studied her.  "I get you.  You didn't like him doing it but it
felt terrific, right?"

She sighed again.

"Did you come when he fucked you?"

"Howie, can't you please use other words?"

"Those are the right words!  Did you?"

"He was ...  He was a long time at it.  I ... think I was coming
the whole time.  You know how I am after some ... after being
licked."

"After somebody licks you.  _Any_body!"

She looked away.  A tear rolled down one cheek.

Suddenly he returned to the table.  "Laura ..."  His voice was
contrite.  He caught her arm gently.  "He's got you, hasn't he:
_all_ of you.  His dirty cock has been everywhere I love."

Her tears increased.  She snuffled.

"Who am I kidding?  He's got me too."

At that she raised wet eyes.  "Howie, don't ..."

"Don't say it?  He fucks all of us whenever he wants to.  Good
thing he's not queer or I'm sure he'd've been up my ass by now.
Huh!  How about yours?"

"N-no.  He hasn't done that."

"Not yet."

"Howie ..."  She wiped her eyes with her lounging robe.  "Don't
forget the 14 grand."

His hand dropped to her forearm.  "Laura, are you still mine?"

"Still yours?"  Her eyes widened.  "Does that mean you want to do
what he did?"

"I mean, are you thinking of leaving me for him?"

"_Leaving_ you?  Certainly not!  Howard Joseph Burton, I _love_
you.  I may have to ... all right, I'll say it.  I may have to
_fuck_ Mr. Lindsey, but it's you I love, and I'll be here as long
as you'll have me."

He studied her for a moment.  Hitching his chair next to hers, he
took her in his arms for a tender, lingering kiss.  When they
were resting cheek to cheek, she said, "What is it?  What are you
thinking?"

He chuckled slightly.  "You can tell I just had an idea, can't
you?  It's a humdinger.  We've always known how sloppy he is.
More than half our jobs is cleaning up after him.  That's why you
went straight to the shower tonight, isn't it?"

"Yes, Howie."

"Well, guess what.  Just now our Mr. Wayne Lindsey happens to be
vulnerable as hell.  It's about time his sloppiness came home to
roost."

"B-but, Howie ..."

He grinned confidently.  "Get me a fresh beer and listen to this."


* * *


He leaned over Laura's desk.  All around them other employees
were streaming to the stairs.  He said quietly, "Lindsey's in
there, right?"

"Howard, for the last time, are you sure about this?"

"I'm sure.  What's he doing?"

She pointed to a light on her console.  "He's on the phone."

"Could he be talking to Concourse National?"

She rattled her keyboard and studied the display.  "No.  That's
his broker.  The _bank_ wouldn't call!"

"As I was leaving, Westmeyer put in a call to his lawyer.  But
some underling might've called here.  Lindsey and the bank used
to be thick, before he screwed them too."

He leaned down to study her console, reached across her shoulder
and punched a key, turning off the glowing light that represented
a call.

"Howard!" she exclaimed under her breath.  She looked around
apprehensively but the stairway doors were closing on the last
stragglers.

He grinned at her enigmatically.  After a moment the intercom
squawked, grating with the words, "What did you do to my
telephone?"

Her husband gestured.  She directed her voice toward the box.  
"I'll be right there, Mr. Lindsey."

She rose from her desk.  Howard held open the heavy door marked
_Wayne Lindsey / President_, followed her inside and closed it
gently behind him.

Bushy eyebrows rose on the man behind the huge desk.  "Howard?"
he said.  Because of his after-lunch shave he sported no five-o'
clock shadow.  Due to his frequent workouts at the club he was
trim at 49.  He wore a red silk necktie and a thousand-dollar
suit striped in subtly different materials.  His nails were
manicured and his complexion smooth.  His eyes narrowed.  "What
are you doing here?"

Howard dropped a briefcase to the magazine table, popped the
latches and withdrew a stapled set of papers.  He rose with an
uncharacteristically confident grin.  "We've got something for
you: something you'll like and something you won't."

"Damn it, Howard --" Lindsey began in a warning tone.

Howard dropped one set of papers on the desk.  "Better look at
that, _Wayne_."

Laura stood beside her husband, watching her boss
expressionlessly.  The latter's eyes swung back and forth between
them.  "What's going on here?" he demanded.

"If you'll look at that," said Howard, "you'll know.  Part of it."

The man smirked.  "What is it, letters of resignation?  I've been
wondering if she told you the little games we play.  I don't know
which is sweeter: your wife's mouth or her cunt.  Or are you
going to charge sexual harassment?"  He laughed smugly.  "In fact
it's been pure sexual exploitation, but you can't prove it, and
trying that will only get you both fired."

Howard laughed too, though more softly.  "You're the one in
danger of that, _Wayne_."

"Huh?  That's ridiculous!  I _own_ this place."

"Better glance over that affidavit.  The summary on the first
page tells the tale."

"Affidavit?"  At last the man's eyes fell to the paper before
him, scanning furiously back and forth.  He looked up, eyes wide.
"This is ...  _Gravenholt_ said this?"

"Yes.  I knew he placed the fake bids on Murphy Tilings but
thought nothing of it until ... until what you did to Laura last
week."

Lindsey's expression showed a mixture of triumph and chagrin.  
"She merely submitted to the better man, Howard, as women are
meant to do.  To make that clear, you're fired.  Go clean out
your desk.  Who'd you show this to?"

Howard grinned.  "Don't ask me questions: I'm fired.  But I'll
tell you who: Westmeyer at Concourse National."

"What?  Damn you, Howard, they'll _sue_ me!"

"That's exactly what Westmeyer said as I was leaving."

"That will hurt," Lindsey admitted.  He leaned back in his big
chair, glare becoming a grin.  "But not as much as it hurts you.
You're still fired, Howard, and now with prejudice for
disloyalty.  How could you possibly expect to win at this?"

With a matching grin, Howard laid a single paper on the desk.  
"You'll also want to see this.  It's only a printout, you
understand.  I'm holding the hard drive in a safe place."

Lindsey swept it up.  In a second or two he frowned.  "But this ...
this is --"

"Two email messages.  Notice the date and your encrypted
signature on the first.  You knew the exact amount of the winning
bid on Heywood three full days _before_ it was submitted -- and
told your pal at Nestor Mutual, who advised you in the second
message he'd just sold Heywood short.  He made almost as much
money as you did."

"Ah, ah, Howard ..."  Lindsey's eyes stared from a suddenly white
face.

The standing man chuckled softly.  "Aren't you interested in who
I told of _this_?"

"Who ... who ..."

"Do you hear a hoot owl, Laura?  I can think of a couple outfits
that would love to hear about it.  Wouldn't the SEC just leap on
it?  It's a stronger case than they have on Enron.  And the state
government.  Heywood was a _reclamation_ project you ran the
price up on.  Naughty, naughty!  The environmentalists will be
all over you after you get out of federal prison."

The man spread his hands on the desk and sat staring in horror.

"You see who would get fired, Wayne?  And Concourse National
would end up running your business.  They'd retain all your
employees at the same salary.  Laura and I would even get to keep
that 14 grand."

Lindsey turned stricken eyes on the woman.  "Laura, it had to be
you!"

"Who found the emails?" she responded.  "Who else?  Did you think
I enjoyed ... taking you in my mouth?"

His eyebrows rose.  "You enjoyed last week."

"I enjoyed ... a lot more ... giving my husband your hard drive."

Lindsey's hands rose to his face.  "My god, I'm ruined."

"Not necessarily," said Howard.

Lindsey peeked between his fingers.  "Not?"

"I said we had something you like too.  Laura?"

The woman pirouetted around the end of the furniture, raising her
skirts as she swung.  She pushed in front of the man, plopped her
curvaceous bottom upon the edge of the desk and parted her legs
widely.  She proved to be wearing neither pantyhose nor panties.
The man goggled at the plump labia, which were obviously wet.

Howard ordered, "Lick her, Wayne.  If you make her like it the
way you did last week, I'll sit on that hard drive."

"You, you'll ..."  The pale man looked past the woman to her no
longer grinning husband, then up into her face.

"Do it, Mr. Lindsey," she said solemnly.  Her eyes glittered.

He leaned forward, burying his face between her legs.  She
twitched.  But in a moment he withdrew and tilted back to stare
at her.  "How'd you get so wet?"  He tasted his lips.  "That's
not woman juice!"

"Not _just_ woman juice," corrected Howard, grinning around her 
hip.  "We stopped off in the storeroom on the way in here.  She's
tasted enough of your jism; we thought it was time you returned
the favor for us.  Now finish the job, Wayne-baby, and we'll talk
about this little matter of who gets terminated, if anyone, with
all of us in a somewhat better mood."


END
kellis@dhp.com

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