WARNING:

The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains 
descriptions of explicit sex.  If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories 
upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any 
further! 

This story is for entertainment only.  It contains adult oriented material.  This 
is a work of fiction.  The acts and characters contained within are figments of my 
imagination and have no basis in fact.  I do not practice, advocate, condone or 
encourage acts portrayed here.  The characters in the story are entirely 
fictional.  You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of 
eighteen.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written 
permission of the author.  This story may be freely distributed with this notice 
attached.

* * * * * * * * * * 

A Harvey Marcus Retrospective:  Office Mating

In a sudden delusion caused by two simultaneous synapses crossing each other, I 
thought, "Gee, wouldn't it be keen to tell the story of how I, Harvey Marcus, got 
started with all of this screwing around.  I mean, it didn't just happen out of 
nothing.  Everything has a cause, a spark, an ignition.  So, here's another 
Official Retrospective, detailing how I involuntarily got sucked into a campaign 
of accidental sex with all of the world's eighteen-year and older females.

Episodes One and Two found me seduced by two different babysitters.  Episode Three 
(not yet published) will involve a stranger who demanded sex, while Episode Five 
(already published) partnered me with a family member.

This jumps back to my Fourth Official Retrospective, sex with a co-worker.  You 
know the scenario - man and woman who work at the same company and don't care for 
each other get sent off on a business trip and "something" forces them into 
physical intimacy.  Only, in my story, the wackiest thing happens.  You see, the 
woman is - oh, yeah, I guess I should let you read it.  So, go ahead.  I won't 
hover.


* * * * * * * * * *

Office Mating

At about the time I got promoted to Director and got a private office, the company 
hired a dark haired young woman to implement and support technical applications 
for our department.  Her name was Isadora.  Her consistent uniform was a starched 
white blouse and dark skirt, below the knee.  She made it clear from her first day 
in the job that she was to be called Dora.  Not Izzy. Definitely not Izzy. 

Except that, less than a week later, the crowd she hung with was Izzy-ing like 
crazy. I remained a Dora caller. In fact, she kept such a distance I could have 
been a Ms. Muniz caller instead.  Since we were both doing technical work, I 
expected we'd talk more.  Never happened.  Maybe she thought I was unapproachable, 
or unfriendly or ugly.  It was as if she could read my mind and found lascivious 
thoughts. No deeds to make me suspect. No overheard comments about her youthful 
face, button nose, or little body with perfect proportions.  No remarks about her 
teardrop breasts under her close fitting shirts. My father had lots of sayings. 
One was "Keep your dick out of the inkwell." Or was it "Keep your penis out of the 
typewriter"?  Maybe not memorable but directly applicable. No sex with co-workers.  
No problem with Dora. We weren't even friends.

Dora worked for Don, in support of sales. The wackiest duo in the company. Don was 
a wheeler-dealer. Always ready for a good time with clients. An expense account 
that would choke a horse. But management looked the other way because Don brought 
in the big deals. Deals that could take a faltering quarter and make it 
exceptional. Don was personable. No one ever disliked Don, which meant customers 
made repeat orders, which meant Don was successful. Self-fulfilling loop.  And 
rumors said Don was a fun guy to hang with.

Straight-laced Dora acted subdued and shy, the exact opposite. Dora did the 
background work while Don made the client visits, wining and dining. Wacky?  Steak 
and sizzle.  A match made in business heaven.  Odd couples often work out, which 
is why I couldn't understand why Harriett and I were faltering.  She and I were 
about as opposite as you can get, at least on a few major topics.

My technical peers in other departments got to make business trips, or trips to 
conferences.  Tashun always rejected my requests to attend workshops as "wasted 
time and money."  I was jealous of Don and others who'd often hop on a plane to 
some exotic location.  I made a standing offer to accompany any salesman on a 
customer visit, if it would help them close a deal.  It would be good to get away 
from Harriett.  We were always fighting about money, never having enough, and 
about sex, and never doing it.

Dora kept her distance, and that was okay, since although we were both technical, 
our work rarely overlapped.  The only time Dora and I were closer than three feet 
was an incident in the elevator at end of day.  Everybody crowded in at five 
o'clock, eager to get the hell home, or wherever else they were going.  Anyplace 
except the office.  The elevator was more than crowded.  I was already in, when 
another wave of workers showed up, insisting on a ride.  Dora was one of them.  
She scurried in and faced the front.  I was behind her.  My luck, she wore a v-
neck sweater.  Because she was short and I'm tall, I had a nice view of the curved 
valley between her breasts.  I had no choice but to grow an erection.  Completely 
involuntary and not a problem until she backed up to let more insistent workers 
on.  She must have felt my condition against her back.  

"Mr. Marcus!" she shouted.

Everyone looked.  My face was on fire.  A couple of classless male coworkers 
hooted.  I vowed to stay completely away from Dora from then on.

About a month later, things changed, specifically Dora's attitude and behavior, 
but only on Wednesdays.  She'd come into the office upbeat, more confident, and 
definitely sexier.  And ready to flaunt it.  She must have known she had a 
voluntary audience in me and so she played off of me more than others.

For example, if we had a meeting on Wednesday, she'd always sit next to me, so 
that the peek-a-boo side of her blouse was facing me.  She'd lean over to take 
notes, allowing the usual white cotton to separate precisely to give me a bra 
shot.  Her breasts weren't huge, not even as big as Harriett's, and my wife is not 
zaftig, but a direct flirtation and a welcome diversion from Tashun's droning 
babble.

The most blatant incident, which almost pushed me over the edge, was another 
Wednesday morning.  I was in the coffee room, back when the company provided the 
beverage for free.  I'd already poured and spooned in my sugar.  I was holding a 
carton of dairy product when Dora came in, glowing.  I said hello, and 
complimented her on her choice of clothing, her typical white blouse and ankle-
length skirt.  Dumb - I know.  She stroked the length of my tie.  Twice.  I had 
trouble breathing.  

"I'm short-waisted," she said in a whisper.   "Regular rides long on me."  She 
pulled the material of her skirt, bunching it in her hands at her waist to 
demonstrate.  No one else was refilling at the time, so there were no witnesses.  
She continued to drag the material higher until it was well above her knees, 
halfway up her thighs.  Her legs were nicely shaped.  I swallowed hard, anxious 
for her to continue the unveiling.  She acted proud but nervous, glad to be 
showing off her physical attributes but scared at the same time. Like a push me-
pull you was battling inside her.   My hand must have shaken, because I spilled 
some dairy lightener on the counter.  

"Shame on you, wasting cream like that.  I've read that cream increases a woman's 
cellulite. Do you think I have any?"  She lifted her skirt higher so that thighs 
were completely exposed, hinting at panties just above.

"Not that I can see."  Sweat ran down my back.

"You're a gentleman."

The sound of others approaching interrupted her teasing.  Dora dropped her grip, 
and her skirt cascaded to full length.  The room filled with co-workers and the 
opportunity to take it the next step, whatever that would have been, was lost.  
Dora walked out but not without rubbing my shoulder. This was a completely 
different Dora. Why was she friendly all of a sudden?  And show off her legs?  
Amazing!

The next day, Thursday, Don came calling, with a promising tap on my doorframe. 
"You up for a trip?"

"Are you kidding?  Of course."  I'd lucked out.  Don knew all of the right places, 
and perhaps a few of the wrong ones.

Don grinned.  "I've arranged for adjoining rooms so we can pretend we have a 
suite, allow us to work together easier."

"Great!  Wait a second. Where are we going?"

"Summerset Corporation in St Louis. Its not LA, but a whole lot better than 
Huntsville."

"When, and what's my role?"  I wanted to be completely prepared.  Screwing up 
Don's sale would make this a once-in-an-employment opportunity.

"Short notice.  Next week. The customer insists we do a technical presentation. I 
told them 'Trust me. Have I ever let you down?' But their dumb ass CIO insisted."

"No sweat. I know how to handle those self important pricks."  I don't use nasty 
slang at work as a rule but Don used more than his share. I peppered my response 
to let him know we were on the same wavelength. Dora hated it when Don swore. 
She'd get red in the face and shout 'Donald!'
He hated his full name, so sometimes he'd stop. For a while.

Later that day, I stepped outside my office.  I'd been hunched over my computer 
for several hours reading technical specifications.  Our product line had been 
updated, and I expected their CIO to grill me on the details.  I needed a stretch 
and a chance to clear my brain.  Don and Tashun walked down the aisle, side by 
side, bumping elbows and giggling like two teenage girls sharing a secret. Was Don 
being less than truthful about our trip?  Don stopped at my office but Tashun kept 
walking without a word. Bastard. I could take him down with a passing mention of 
his sexual encounters with his niece. But such a disclosure would cost my 
reputation and probably my job. My company may not fire snitches but they sure 
don't promote them either.

"What's with you and Tashun?  Sharing secrets?"

"You're too smart for your own good, you know that?  Okay, I really shouldn't say 
anything, but I told Tashun that Izzy dragged me into the janitor's closet 
yesterday."

"She did?"  Lucky bastard.

"Yeah, she wrapped herself around me and pulled my face down for a really hot 
kiss.  Tongue and everything.  And then, quick as she came on to me, she pulled 
back, straightened herself up and strutted out, like nothing had happened."

I didn't share my coffee room incident.  He may be a tattletale, but not me.

"Too bad Izzy isn't coming with us.  You might get a slice of what I got.  No 
worries.  There's a female manager of purchasing at Summerset that's hot to trot.  
We'll see some action, I promise."  I got Don's elbow, the same one he'd used with 
Tashun. Was I supposed to be pleased that Don was going to be my procurer?  
Although, maybe procured sex was better than none at all.  And, it wouldn't be a 
babysitter or a stranger in a gynecologist's office.

On Friday, I slaved over an existing technical dog and pony show, making a ton of 
updates.  With Don's reputation on the line, as well as maintaining an excellent 
customer, things had to perfect.  The weekend flew by, mostly household errands 
punctuated by disagreements with Harriett.  On Monday morning, I met with Don and 
Dora to co-ordinate our presentations.  Nothing worse than two members of a team 
confusing their audience with conflicting stuff.  That got me closer to Dora than 
I'd ever been, work or otherwise. I included a demo in my presentation, which 
required a test version of a network application using sample data hosted on our 
servers. That was Dora's responsibility. Working out the details put us side-by-
side at the same table. Since it wasn't Wednesday, I got plenty of attitude. She 
sat two chairs away to maximize our spacing.

Don and I practiced our stuff on Monday at my insistence. He was secure but I 
wanted to be certain both he and Dora approved of my content and style. Dora said 
nothing.  His only comment was to smile more and have fun with it. "You're too 
stiff."    

If I'd been standing and he'd checked my pants, he would have seen he was correct. 
Presenting to my audience of Don and Dora, half of them had me excited, and it 
wasn't Don. If Dora noticed, she didn't let on.

On Tuesday, we did one last run-through for a hastily gathered group of co-
workers.  The demonstration of the network application was flawless, and I thanked 
Dora for her effort.  She barely nodded.  We packed up our materials and equipment 
for our departure the next day.  Don looked pale with slumped shoulders as we left 
the conference room.  He hadn't been very energetic in his presentation, although 
he didn't miss a beat or get anything wrong.

"What's up?  You okay?" I asked.

"Just worn out from last night. The Smithereens were in town."

The two Smithereen brothers had manufacturing plants all over the world and used 
lots of our products.  "Just get a good rest tonight."

We took our materials home that night so we could go directly to the airport the 
next day. We agreed to meet at the departure gate at eleven. No reason to stand 
around outside of security.

Late morning the next day, I sat at the gate for our flight to St. Louis.  I 
arrived at the airport with time to spare, looking forward to the high-class 
treatment first class passengers receive.  Don wasn't there yet. He was dependable 
in his commitments to customers.  How about co-workers?  On the flight, I expected 
him to regale me with stories of previous jaunts and extreme successes, if for no 
other reason than to keep me pumped up on our adventure.  

I was shocked to see Dora, flushed with red cheeks, perspiring, dragging a wheeled 
carry-on behind her.  She found my face in the crowd and headed directly for me.  
She bent over, hands on knees, catching her breath.

"Hi.  What are you doing here?"

"Ms. Shorhan called me at home." Takita Shorhan was Don's administrative 
assistant.  She refused to be called a secretary.  Originally from somewhere in 
Asia, she was a recent hire with a Masters in Marketing from Buena Vista College.  
I'd reviewed her resume, but she wasn't right for any of my technical positions.  
"Don's is in the hospital.  Nobody is saying why."

"That's terrible."  I speculated about a reason, given what I'd previously heard 
about Don's lifestyle: a drug overdose, or a heart condition.  My heart sunk.  "So 
the trip is off?"

"No!  That's just it.  Tashun told me to go in Don's place."  Her eyes darted 
around as she spoke.  "I stopped by Don's house to get his materials.  Evidently 
Summerset insisted that the meeting go on as planned, or they'd take their 
business elsewhere.  But I'm not a salesman."

"Well, we saw Don's slides.  Nothing too difficult.  We should be able to-"

"I pleaded with them not to send me."  She grasped my arm, squeezing.  "Not today.  
But they insisted or I'd get fired."

A gate clerk called for first class boarding.  Don had spared no company expense.  
I guided Dora towards the gate attendant.

"Take a deep breath."  I reached for Dora's hands. She let me hold them.  
"Everything will be okay."

Dora's expression did not show confidence. She was anxious, frightened. "But, but-
"

"Shhhhhh.  We'll make it through. You've been party to our plans. And no one knows 
the demo better than the two of us."

"Us?"  Was that a hint of a smile piercing her tortured expression?

"Yes.  We'll wow them."  I put my arm around her, a colleague's supportive 
gesture.

She leaned her onto my chest.  It was a natural position, and too comfortable.  
When I glanced down at her, she raised her face and kissed on the cheek.  Not a 
peck. An insistent kiss, a needy kiss.  One she didn't want to end.  Too bad it 
was my cheek and not my lips.  I took a deep breath.  

Her carry-on luggage banged into my calves as she clung to me down the Jetway. 

We entered the plane and turned left towards first class.  I melted into my padded 
seat.

Dora sat upright, stiff.  "I hate flying." 

"How many times have you flown?"

"Including this flight - twice."

Like one trip is a large enough data sample.  "Sure it's a pain with all of the 
security measures but-"

"I like the security.  Makes me more confident.  No, it's the physics. A big piece 
of metal, up in the sky.  It doesn't make sense."

A hollow feeling blossomed in my belly at the thought of a rock released from a 
hand.  It drops straight down. I was tempted to give her an aerodynamics lesson as 
best I remembered it.  The words failed me.  I decided she was correct. It didn't 
make sense, even in a comfortable seat.

She clung to me, arm entwined with mine. I didn't complain especially when I felt 
her breast against my triceps.  This incidental contact was way better than the 
free alcohol or the fancy appetizers.
The flight from Chicago was quick, and painless with Dora on my arm.  I pulled her 
carry-on bag to avoid damaging my Achilles tendon and calves.  

Even though we were in the same time zone, I checked my watch.  The face of my 
watch showed the date and day of week:  Wednesday.  Maybe that's the cause of 
Dora's attitude?  The wait for my bag in baggage claim was mercifully short.

We stood on the curb, waiting our turn for a cab, Dora close to me.  "I'm sorry 
about my behavior." 

"Nothing to apologize for. Lots of folks don't like flying."

"I mean in the office.   Last week?  I hope I didn't embarrass you."

"Me?"  She was the one who hiked up her dress and made a sexual reference about 
not wasting cream. "It takes more than that."

A mischievous grin spread across her face. "It does?"  She patted my ass. In 
public. Immediately she pulled her hands back, crossing her arms. Her expression 
was one of shock.  Dora was like two different women in the same delectable body. 
Her original shy and demure self, and an emerging outgoing practically lascivious 
one.  And only on Wednesdays.  Strange.

A limo pulled up, with Don's name on cardboard stuck behind the windshield.  First 
class, all the way.  The driver took our bags as I held the door for Dora.  We 
buckled in, at a safe distance.

I had to ask.  "Are you okay?"  Or does schizophrenia run in your family?

Dora hung her head.  "I'm not sure.  I'm taking some drugs, once a week."

On Wednesdays, obviously.

She continued, "I wouldn't have taken them today if I'd known I was leaving town, 
but the phone message came too late."

The door was open.  I decided to walk through.  "If you mind my asking, what kind 
of drugs?"  If they had the same effect on all women, maybe I'd slip some into 
Harriett's coffee. "You're not sick, I hope."

"It is difficult to explain.  They're supposed to make me normal but they're 
messing with my head."

I wanted to ask how she was abnormal.  Dora seemed normal to me, only a bit too 
shy, a tad too reserved.  "Anything I can do?"

She leaned against my shoulder and ran her hand from my knee to my groin.  Shit, 
was she going to fondle my prick in the back of a limo?  "We'll see."  She jumped 
back, straightened her jacket and folded her hands. "Oh, I'm so sorry.  The drugs 
are more potent at night."

Dora hugged the opposite side of the limo for the remainder of our trip to the 
hotel. We checked in, greeted by smiling desk clerks who treated us like royalty.  
Perhaps Don had been here before, and we were riding on his coattails.  A bellman 
piled our suitcases on a rolling cart and escorted us upstairs.

"Do you want to go for dinner?"  I tried to make it sound like business and not a 
date.

"No thanks.  I'm not in the mood.  Maybe I'll order room service."

True to his word, Don had two adjacent rooms reserved. On the way off the 
elevator, Dora stopped our caravan at a vending machine and bought a 20-ounce 
bottle of cola.  The bellman led us to Dora's room, unlocked it, and brought her 
bag inside.

"Just knock it you need anything," I offered.  Fat chance that would happen.

The bellman continued four feet down the hall to my room. The bellman checked my 
registration.  Don, bless his heart, had prepaid for adult programming channels. 
Since I had them, I guessed Dora had them too. 

I checked the room service menu and ordered up a steak, baked potato, and a soda.  
The meal was great, except the soda was a miniature 4 ounce can, barely enough to 
wash down the meal.  After eating, I settled back to watch a "cheerleaders take 
their clothes off for no reason" flick. A classic. Their sneakers whomped the 
gymnasium floor as their tits bounced wildly.  I got an erection in my sleeping 
shorts.

In the middle of the movie, which had no plot, just excuses for college kids to 
get undressed and fuck, I heard a knock almost indistinguishable from the on-
screen pounding of sneakers on the gymnasium floor. I opened the door that 
connected my room to Dora. She had done the same. She stood partially bent over in 
a white bathrobe. On her coffee table lay a pair of mangled hot dogs sans buns. It 
looked like they'd been beaten or mashed, their stuffing squishing from breaks in 
their casings.  The best I could tell, they hadn't been eaten.  

"What's wrong?"  The question of what she might or might not be wearing under the 
bathrobe kept my erection firm.

"I've hurt myself. I wouldn't have bothered you, but the pain is so bad I can't 
sleep.  I was afraid I'd be a zombie tomorrow."

"It's no trouble. How can I help?"

Dora backed up, allowing me to cross the threshold into her room.  "I'm really 
nervous about tomorrow, so I tried to relax."

"Of course. Some mindless television, right?"  Or a sex flick.  Maybe "Stallions 
of Wall Street"?

"No, not that. I gave myself a sliver."

Relaxing with wood?  That was unique, but so was Sexy Wednesdays.  "No problem. 
I'm an expert taking out slivers. Let me get my kit."

I had a magnifying glass, a pin and a tweezers in my bathroom ditty bag. When I 
reentered Dora's room, she wasn't visible.  "Hello?"

"I'm in here."  'Here' was the bathroom, where she stood with all of the lights 
on.  "I got it from this."  She handed me a hairbrush, bristles first. I examined 
the handle.  The finish had eroded away, probably from moisture, down to bare 
wood.  And it was rough.  No wonder she got a sliver.

"So where's that nasty sliver?"  I expected her to put out a hand.  She eased onto 
the counter and spread her knees. "I forgot my vibrator and I was desperate for a 
physical release."  The robe began to separate. Her knees came into view.  Then 
her dark, smooth thighs.  "I tried a couple of hot dogs, but they were too soft. I 
needed something harder."

Release?  Masturbation?  So that's how they ended up in bad shape, as substitute 
dildos. Evidently Dora's cunt packs a tight squeeze.  I was plenty hard.  But she 
wasn't offering, and I wasn't volunteering.  My cock throbbed at the remote 
possibility anyway.  "Is this from the drugs?"

She nodded. "My husband complained that I wasn't interested in sex. Maybe he was 
right. I don't know. He was my first and only lover. My doctor said I was fine and 
that we should take joint therapy but Emilio said he was okay. It was all me. When 
my girlfriend Marisol visited from Puerto Rico, she brought me these."  She pulled 
a zippered plastic bag from her makeup pouch.

It looked like remnants from mowing the lawn, thin brown strands.  "What is it?"

"Naturally growing herbs and plant leaves. I started brewing them once a week, 
like Marisol instructed.  They're supposed to make me more relaxed, so Emilio and 
I can have good sex."

"On Wednesday nights?"

The robe fell away exposing her legs all the way up to - oh my God - her bare 
pussy.  I couldn't help but stare.  No underpants. Not surprising if she'd 
masturbated with a brush handle, but a shock just the same.

"Yes.  Emilio has Thursdays off, so we can make love all night.  The more, the 
better."

I was completely distracted.  I shouldn't have had this privilege.  God, she was 
hot.  Dora volunteered the answer.  "We're trying to have a baby.  I took the 
normal dose this morning, but then Ms. Shorhan called."

So Dora was all sexed up and no Emilio to satisfy her.  "So your husband 
experiences the revitalized Dora every Wednesday night?"

"Izzy. He calls me Izzy."  Her motor was revving with no place to go.  She winced.  
"The sliver, could you take it out?"

I took a cleansing breath.  "Sure.  Exactly where?"

She spread her labia.  Her pussy lips were engorged, pink and full.  She tapped a 
finger on her left one.  "It's on this side." I remained at attention, my body and 
my dick.

"Come closer.  You'll never see it at that distance."  She let the robe drop from 
her shoulders.  A sleeveless crop top covered her breasts.  Without a bra, they 
didn't sag, nipples pointed.

"I'll have to touch you.  You know, down there."

"All right, as long as you get it out.  It really hurts."

I bent over and stuck my head in her groin.  I was tempted to lick her pussy.  It 
smelled like sex, something withheld from me at home.

"Closer," Izzy urged.

I tried to ignore my own urges and positioned my magnifying glass a few inches 
from her vagina.  She held her cunt open.  Fortunately, the sliver was dark 
against pink flesh and exposed enough to pluck without the need for using my pin 
or breaking any more skin.  I poised the tweezers, grasped the tiny shard and slid 
it out.  "Done."  I exhaled deeply.  Dora wiggled at my puff of air against her 
moist entrance.

The sliver was out, and I needed to be out of Izzy's room, or who knows what I'd 
do.

"Put some ointment on it," Izzy pleaded. "So I don't get infected."

"Can't you do it?"  My hand shook at the thought of touching Izzy's pussy.

She rummaged through her pouch and handed me a tube of topical disinfectant gel.  
"I can't see where the wound is.  Rub it in."

It would have been simple for her to spread the ointment herself.  After all, we 
weren't talking about searching for a couple of square inches on the back forty.  
Her request gave me an excuse to stay, and more than that, to touch her.  I put a 
dab on my fingertip and rubbed in the area of the sliver wound.  God, I had my 
finger next to Izzy's pussy.  Don didn't get this far.  "Like this?"

"Uh huh.  Don't miss a spot."

I stroked the length of her labia.  It responded by getting fatter.  My cock 
stayed wood hard.  And, if push came to penetration, my penis wouldn't leave a 
sliver.  I had to make sure we wouldn't go that far.  "I think I've got it all."  
My fingertip grazed her opening.  

Her hips bounced.  "Forward and back.  My hero."  Izzy grabbed my face and planted 
a big wet kiss on my lips.

I reeled backwards.  I'd had my jollies.  It was time to go back to my room and 
squirt, thinking about Izzy's pussy instead of anonymous cheerleaders.  And it 
wouldn't take very long.  I turned to leave but Izzy grabbed my shirt.

"I shouldn't ask this, but it's not like you haven't shown interest."  Izzy held 
up a different tube.  This one was a general-purpose lubricant.  From what I had 
touched, this wasn't at all necessary.  Izzy was already moist.  "Please, apply 
this cream.  Rub it in real good."

I tried to apply it on the outside only, but the salve was so slippery, one finger 
accidentally slid into her cunt.  "Sorry."  I pulled my hand back, afraid I'd gone 
too far.  

"Oooh, don't apologize.  Keep doing what you were doing."

So Izzy wasn't upset, she was delighted.  I gently separated her lips with my 
finger.

"Oh yes.  That's it.  More, give me more."

I upped the ante to two fingers.  She bucked hard.  "Oh yes.  Better." 

Izzy spread her legs further.  Both fingers slipped past her vaginal lips.

"In. Good. In. Good."  Izzy was doing play-by-play while bucking against my hand.

No pretense, I was finger fucking her.  She panted and wiggled.  "You don't know 
how good this feels.  Please don't stop.  I need release."

I barely moved my hand as her hips lunged against the digital intruders.  Dora's 
hip thrusts became more extreme.  She wanted to fuck something. The hot dogs had 
failed, and the brush had given her a sliver.  At least my fingers weren't doing 
damage. 

Her cunt tightened against my digits.  She gurgled, sighed and slumped back 
against the mirror. "Phooooo.  That helped a lot."  She pulled her legs together, 
slid off the counter and pulled the robe on.  I'd lost my free show.

I was pleased that she'd evidently orgasmed, and wasn't so tense.  I, on the other 
hand, needed to exit so one of my hands could bring me off in private.  I stood 
up, wiping the goop and Izzy's cunt juice from my fingers.  My erection pushed at 
my sleeping pants.

"Oh my. I got you all aroused."  Izzy hugged me, so I returned the gesture.  "I 
didn't mean for that to happen." 

How could I not get excited, fingering someone who'd teased me sexually for weeks?  
"As long as you're all right."  When she leaned back, it was to kiss, not escape 
from my arms.  There was a hint of tongue, and then a probing between my lips.  I 
kept my hands around her waist but she slid them behind to hold her cute round 
ass.  I squeezed.

"Oh God, do that again."

"Really?"  Holding Izzy in my arms, kissing her, had been a fantasy.  Now she was 
in my grasp, and I was having too much fun.

"Oh yes!"

I pressed myself against her and gave her a bigger kiss.  And another.  The suck 
face was getting pretty intense.  And her hips were jerking forward, straining to 
feel my erection.  She led me into her bedroom.  "I wouldn't ask this of you, and 
you can refuse, but I'm so aroused, I can't stand it."   With no warning, she 
ripped off the robe.  She was bare from her belly to her toes but her breasts 
remained covered.  "I need more.  More than your fingers."  She fell back on her 
bed, legs spread.  Her breasts were peaks on her chest, nipples visible.  "You 
have to have sex with me."

"What?"  This couldn't be happening.  Dora had been evasive.  Izzy had just 
invited me into her bed, between her thighs.  "You must be kidding."

"Hell no!  I need an orgasm for relief.  Your fingers were good but I need more.  
These herbs-"

"We can't be doing this.  We're both married."  I didn't tell her I was sex-
starved in my marriage and had turned to two babysitters and a stranger for the 
only sex I'd had in recent memory.

"I don't love you, damn it.  I just need to be fucked.  Stop toying with me.  Your 
erection tells me you're up for it.  I'm so horny I could scream. And I'll be 
useless tomorrow if I don't get off."

I tried to think of some excuse that she'd buy.  "Besides the fact that we'd be 
cheating, think about company policy."  I was struggling for a rational excuse 
Izzy would accept.

"Our marriages will be intact, no matter what we do tonight.  Neither of us will 
leave our spouses.  Does it matter to you that unless I purge this sexual tension, 
the Summerset contract will go down the tubes?"

"It's that bed?"  I groped for a rationalization.  "So you're asking me to be cure 
for your condition?"

"More like physical therapy.  Don't be stupid.  We both run a risk here.  You 
could brag about your conquest to all of your colleagues at work. If so, my 
reputation would be ruined."

I thumped my chest.  "So would mine. The company has a strict policy against 
harassment. Just talking about sex could get us both fired."

"See, we're both vulnerable if this got out. We'll have to trust each other.  So 
it stays in this room, right?"

Dad's advice not withstanding, I was as horny as she was, maybe more.  I hadn't 
had an orgasm, but she had.  "Un huh." I stripped off my sleeping pants.

"Holy mother of god!   What is that?"

"The thing I'm going to cure you with. Just once, okay?"

"Once will be enough."  She leaned to one side and patted the space next to her.  
"You're just what the doctor ordered.  Get over here!" 

I lay down next to her. My fingertips grazed her belly. Her hips shot up.  God, 
she was on a hair trigger.

"Ready to help me relax?"

"What are colleagues on a business trip for, if not support?"

"Just one rule.  No cumming.  I'm not on birth control.  So, if you get even 
close, pull out."

"Got it."  Not fair, but her orgasm was the thing.  Spurting on her face or in her 
mouth wouldn't be terrible.

She turned away and raised a leg. I'd never done it from behind and horizontal. 
Dora guided my cock up into her pussy.  She was impatient, jabbing it at her 
opening. I kept my hand on her belly.  She scooted down and I was in. Maybe not 
buried but certainly planted. As evidenced by the hot dogs, Izzy's pussy was tight 
and demanding.  I rotated my hips to give our coupling some movement.  After less 
than a dozen thrusts, she clamped down and hollered.  I figured we were done and 
started to withdraw.

"Oh no you don't. I've got more stress than that."  

"But we agreed - once."

"Fuck that.  Fuck me!"

I pulled out and climbed on top of her.  "I'm a traditionalist at heart," I 
explained. I knelt above her trying not to crush her with my weight.  This time, I 
put me in. Rocking on my knees, I got longer, deeper penetration. 

Izzy moaned with every push. "God, you're huge. I'm glad I'm with you and not Mr. 
Tashun."  Dick's reputation for diminutive organ was everywhere. I wondered if 
Reese had spread the rumor or if some of the female staff had become aware 
personally.  A few minutes of humping and Izzy tightened up for another release.  
I was excited but the firmness of Izzy's cunt was not stimulating.  Thinking about 
getting beat up as a kid, walking on glass, those kinds of things also helped.

Izzy's body came down from another orgasm. "Am I being selfish?" she asked.

"No, you're just getting what you need.  And after you've gotten what you need, 
I'll take care of me."  Alone, in my room.

"Are you close?  Doesn't all this fucking make you want to, you know, cum?"

Maybe she thought I was abnormal, a guy who could fuck all night without an 
ejaculation.  Not me.  The pressure of her pussy walls just wasn't stimulating in 
that way.  "Yeah.  Eventually."

"But not in me, right?  You promised."

"I gave you my word."  I smiled.  "So you're okay now?"

She shook her head.  "Ready to go again?"

She was insatiable, offering too much sex for my own good.  Or hers.  I sat back 
on my haunches, to catch my breath.  

"Don't tell me I've worn you out?"  She tapped my erection.  "Deeper and harder, 
like you mean it."

I lifted Izzy by her hips, pulled her towards my cock and pummeled her pussy with 
forceful thrusts.  Her juices kept her lubricated. My cock toyed with her cervix.  
I hesitated, not wanting to hurt her.

"Don't stop," she cried.  "All the way." 

My cock was as deep as I could go.  To accelerate her orgasm, I strummed her clit. 
She thrashed her head, arching her back, groaning then bleating then warbling.

At long last, my cock started to tingle.  That's my sign, so I pulled out.  Izzy 
was safe, as promised.

Her hand stroked her pussy. Wasn't she done?  "Why did you stop?"  

"So I wouldn't get you pregnant."

She sat up on her elbows.  "Good thought."  Izzy chest rose and fell slowly.  I 
gathered my clothes. "Where are you going?" she asked.

"Back to my room. We have a presentation to make tomorrow."

"I know.  Okay, but first, can you get me something to drink?  Sex makes me 
thirsty.  There's pop in the fridge."

I dropped my sleep clothes and walked buck-naked into the area between the bedroom 
and bathroom where the hotel provided a space for a coffee maker, sink and fridge.  
In the sink, a used coffee filter held the remnants of wet, crushed leaves.  
Marisol's herbs?  Best to stay away from those.  The fridge contained Izzy's 20-
ounce bottle of cola, one-third full, and an unopened mini can of soda.  I emptied 
the contents of the bottle evenly into two glasses and popped the tab on the can 
to top off the drinks.  I chugged mine down.  Izzy smiled when I brought her 
beverage.  "You're still hard."

My prick bobbed, throbbing, yearning for a pussy or my hand, some kind of 
friction.  "It doesn't go down until I orgasm."

"You mean you're going to have this for tomorrow's meeting?"  She giggled, then 
took a gulp.

"It will go down by then.  Just slowly."  Or, I could wank off for five seconds 
back in my room.

"Ahhh."  She drained her glass.  "I could kiss it to make you feel better."

Had she just offered me a blowjob?  Better not assume.  "Thanks anyway."

My vision seemed to soften, as if I was looking though a lens covered in Vaseline.  
The room tilted, and I shifted my weight to compensate, but stumbled sideways.  

Izzy's expression got dreamy, her face leaning forward, as if she couldn't focus.  
"I always sleep better after a warm shower." She licked her lips.  How sexy was 
that?  "Join me?"

I knew it was the wrong thing to do.  I should have trotted next door, blown my 
load and gone to sleep.  But I didn't want to.  

Izzy slowly dragged her t-shirt over her head.  Her breasts, round and full with 
rock-hard nipples, came into view.  "We both need to come clean."

Viewing her breasts was almost too much.  "Oh my!"  The same breasts Izzy had 
teased me with in the office.  The same breasts that wobbled as we'd fucked.  
Those breasts.  On that perfect body.   I was drawn to her.

"How about that shower?"

After all of that fucking, a shower sounded perfect.  And, an opportunity to touch 
her some more.  Her tits.  Her ass.  Her pussy.  "Sure."

We waddled past the fridge into the bathroom.  There were two oversized towels 
waiting for us, post shower.  Izzy stepped into the glass-walled stall.  I 
followed, standing behind her.  My erection hadn't subsided. In fact, I was harder 
than ever.  Izzy turned on the spray and became an angel surrounded by a misty 
aura.  The moist warmth just below her heart-shaped ass beckoned. My cock 
delivered glancing blows to her back.

"Aren't you the horny one?"

"I didn't get a release."  Certainly not three.

"You can wash my back," she said.  I soaped up my hands and caressed her 
shoulders.  I was unable to prevent my hands from sliding down her front to her 
breasts, those glorious breasts, strumming her nipples with my fingertips.  My 
cock poked at her, urgent thrusts.  I wasn't just horny from not cumming.  I was 
revved up.  Was it seeing her completely nude, or the proximity of the shower?  I 
wanted another go, and I wouldn't take no for an answer.

She reached around behind her and held my prick.  "I never did thank you." Her 
fingertips skimmed the length. No amount of stimulation was going to get me any 
harder. If any more blood collected in my cock, it would split open like one of 
the hot dogs Izzy tried to use for satisfaction.  She turned sideways, letting me 
step into the waterfall.  I stepped in front of her.  "Ready to do my front?"  She 
handed me a bar of soap.  Her hand glided up and down my erection  "For giving me 
relief.  You were kind and gentle."

I put my palms on her tits and leaned forward.  Water flooded our open-mouth kiss.  
My hand reached for her pubis.  One finger diddled her opening.  I didn't want a 
finger fuck.  I wanted to mount her.  I needed to penetrate her, to give her what 
we both desired.  "Izzy-"

"Oh Harvey.  I shouldn't be this needy.  We just fucked.  But the horniness is 
back - even worse.  We have to - I mean, if you're willing, just once more-"  She 
didn't have to ask twice.  I lifted her against the tile wall and held her there 
with my chest.  Her legs spread and surrounded my hips.  "Ohhh, yes.  Fuck me."

"Damn right."  I held her ass but my hands were slippery.  Every time I lifted her 
up, she'd slide down, impaling herself deeper on my cock.

"That's it.  All the way.  Give me everything you have."

I rinsed my hands and grabbed hold of her thighs from below.  I lifted and dropped 
her on my prick.  Every drop was punctuated by an exhale and a kiss.  She grunted 
with every penetration.  

I couldn't help myself.  I wanted her more than any woman I'd ever seen.  I pumped 
and pounded.  My prick felt twice as big as normal, sensitive to every square inch 
of her pussy.  Shit, this was a great ride.  

Izzy shrieked as she came the first time.  I was not to be denied my relief.  
"Yes, yes, keep fucking me.  God knows, I'm still horny."  She moaned at her 
second orgasm.   She whimpered at her third.  I heaved her against the tile wall 
and ground my groin against hers.  Izzy was panting for air.
 
"Don't ask me to stop because I won't.  Isn't it good?"  I swiveled my hips.

"Oh yes. You're exactly what I need. I want you to fuck me forever.  God knows, I 
still need it."

"You're insatiable."

"Then do your best.  Who knew how good you'd be?"

"Why?  I didn't look like a hot fuck in the coffee room or the staff meetings?"

"Yeah, but your staff wasn't all hard and sticking up."

I ran my hands up and down her torso from hips to tits, my fingers getting 
acquainted with her nipples.  Our tongues parried as she moaned from our groin 
collisions. I didn't care how long we fucked, as long as we fucked.

Izzy's legs slid off my hips.  My hands under her thighs and my pressure pinning 
her to the wall kept us coupled.  She breathed a cleansing sigh.  "I'm exhausted, 
but I'm not finished.  Not yet.  Don't you stop."  Izzy was limp against the tile.

I kept thrusting, more deliberately.  My arms were fatigued.  Izzy's feet touched 
the floor of the tub.  I squatted and continued pumping, my thighs aching.  The 
firm walls of Izzy's cunt loosened. "I'll finish for both of us."

"Yes, finish.  Drive the sexual tension out of me."

Her relaxed cunt caressed my cock in ways her muscle pressure hadn't allowed.  My 
whole cock tingled as I poked all the way in.  My hips spasmed.  I held her close, 
kissed her with passion unrepentant and pressed against her at full depth.  My 
cock began to shrink, my energy drained.  Still in each other's arms, we melted to 
the floor, arms and legs tangled.  

The next thing I knew, cold water was spraying my nude body.  I was huddled in the 
corner of the shower, alone.  I turned off the water and crawled out of the glass 
enclosure.  With a towel around my body, I peeked into Izzy's bedroom.  She was 
sleeping facedown, naked.  One leg was bent, exposing her well-exercised pussy 
between a scrumptious ass cheeks.  I daydreamed about falling into bed and waking 
her with a fuck from behind.  Instead, I plodded back to my room and collapsed 
into bed.

The phone rang.  I groped for the receiver.  It was an automated wake up message.  
As I stumbled into my bathroom, I tried to piece together what happened.  Oh sure, 
Izzy and I had a marathon fucking session all right.  But then we took a shower, 
and everything else was a blank.  I shaved, showered and got dressed.  As I was 
about to knock on our joint door, I noticed a note on the floor.  "Meet you 
downstairs for breakfast."

I took the elevator down.  Izzy was alone at a table for two.  I was a bit 
hesitant about what to say.  After all, it was no longer Hump Day.  "Good 
morning."

The reply was emotionless.  "Hello."  Izzy had turned back into Dora, sampling a 
cup of yogurt and a bowl of mixed fruit.

"Save my seat."  I gathered eggs, toast, two pieces each of sausage and bacon, and 
a cup of black coffee with sugar.  No cream.

Dora sat silent while I consumed my big breakfast.  The silence was too much, even 
for me.  "Ready for our big day?"

"How much do you remember about last night?" she asked.

"Most of it.  Fondly."  I reached across to touch her hand. 

 She pulled it away.  "I have to admit, you were quite the performer."  Her face 
got pink.  "Up to the task, all right."

At least she could still make a pun.

She stared at me.  "But what do you remember about our shower?"  Her expression 
reminded me of how a detective looks when questioning a suspect.

"Not much, to be honest.  You invited me to join you, and we, how do I say this, 
enjoyed each others company."

She kept her voice low.  "Like fucking me was the only thing in the world?"

My desire had been off the charts.  "Yes!  Precisely!"

"And then?"

"The rest is a blank.  I woke up in the middle of the night under a spray of cold 
water."

Dora took a sip of cold water from her glass.  "There wasn't any soda in my fridge 
this morning.  Where did it go?"

"We drank it, remember?  You were thirsty, so I poured us both a drink."

"You brought me one.  But the mini can didn't have enough for both of us."

"Right, so I used the rest of the open bottle as well.  Why, what difference does 
that make?"

Dora's eyes moistened.  "Because I'd brewed my leaves in the bottled soda."  

I'd thought it was Izzy's sexy body, and the proximity in the shower that had 
gotten me all revved up.  Nope, it was drugs.  "No wonder I couldn't stop."  For 
Izzy, consuming more of the drug had maintained her horniness.  For me, it 
reinforced my desire to- Shit!  Get my rocks off.  I had no recollection of 
cumming.  I must have.  Did I?  Dora's expression confirmed that she'd come to the 
same conclusion.  I'd broken my promise, under the influence of her medication.  
"I'm so sorry."

"It's not your fault.  I practically gave you permission.  What did I expect, that 
you'd be able to hold back all night?"

It was possible I'd impregnated my coworker.  "What do we do now?"

"It's too late to do anything.  Damn herbs!"  She pushed her bowl away and sat up 
straight, which thrust her tits forward.  It was no tease, not on a Thursday.  
"Focus on something we can control.  Today's meeting.  We'll knock them dead."

The consumate professional, and a good partner, in more ways than one.  "Right!"

The presentation went almost perfect, except for the undertone of worry Dora and I 
shared, which messed with the collegial chemistry we would have preferred to 
exhibit.  The client CIO was wowed, more with Dora than me.  He made some comment 
about working with her instead of Doug from now on.  We all laughed, despite the 
sexual connotation.

Before we went our separate ways after our flight home, Dora touched my elbow.  "I 
knew all along that asking you not to cum was going to be difficult.  Especially 
given my sexual demands.  I don't blame you.  Really."  She gave me half a smile.  
"Emilio has never taken the drug, but he will tonight.  I'm going to fuck him so 
hard, he'll have to call in sick tomorrow."

For Emilio, Hump Day was going to be Friday.  I was jealous, but, hell, I'd had my 
turn.  Turns, actually.  Maybe my sperm missed the target, or maybe the herbs 
would kick Emilio's potency up a notch, and his sperm would beat the crap out of 
mine.  I hoped for the best, while the worst churned in my gut.

###

An Original H M Tale 

I'm always interested in reader feedback.  Do you like these Retrospectives?  Tell 
me what you think via email, at harveymarcus9@comcast.net.
Copyright (c) 2009, HarveyMarcus.  All Rights Reserved.
