Pub(l)ic Storage, or Shed Your Inhibitions

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.

* * * * * * * * * * 

Sometimes Harvey Marcus is in the right place at the right time, the wrong place at the wrong time, or one of the other two permutations.  You can be the judge in this tale of a visit to the self-storage facility.

This story is a standalone, temporally after Mr.Marcus has severed his relationship with Zenellis Industries.  There are minor references to Arcuda Zenellis and his daughter Saroya.  Oh yes, and Lillian Mutzman, teenage scientist.

* * * * * * * * * *

I was on errand from my wife Harriett to the self-storage facility in town where we rented space for the miscellaneous junk that had accumulated in our basement.  Funny, but after we filled the rented storage, the basement filled up again.  Anyway, I was sent to fetch a hardhat, her college folder on project management, and half a dozen vinyl three-ring binders.  Harriett was scheduled for a trip to a manufacturing plant as part of her new account executive role.  Harriett owed it all to me and didn't know it.  I had coerced Rianne, Harriett's horny bisexual boss, into retaining Harriett with a full bonus.  And I did it while Rianne's daughter Olivia and were fucking, no less.  Rianne had exceeded our expectations, promoting Harriett and giving her a substantial raise.  Power to the penis!

I hated trips to the storage shed.  In the dead of winter, I'd freeze my ass off, and on the hottest day of summer, the enclosure would be an oven.  The facility did have conditioned space, but it was much more expensive.  I opted for a cheaper metal room that suffered the vagaries of Mother Nature.  That's why Zenellis's disk drives were in my crawl space, not in the storage shed.  One day, I'd reassemble the RAID array and watch Saroya, Zenellis's daughter and myself.  Too bad I didn't have our escapade in her office on video.  Maybe she did.

Today was the latter of the two temperature extremes, a scorcher.  I had to empty a third of the cubby to get to anything, since we never took the time to organize its contents.  Boxes and bins and bags were piled at random inside.  Our stuff littered the hallway temporarily, while I rummaged through unlabeled boxes and twist-tied bags,  

This trip afforded me the opportunity to pick up some old financial records.  The IRS had sent a letter asking for documentation regarding the money I got from Zenellis Enterprises.  My large one-time payment as income threw up a red flag on our joint return.  The IRS said they just wanted the details of what services I'd provided in exchange for the payment.  A line-item invoice.  I planned on providing a general statement about consulting regarding products and marketing.  It was none of their business that fucking Saroya Zenellis, the Chairman's daughter, sealed my fate to a lump sum payoff, instead of stock or an ongoing annuity.  The thought of her voluptuous body and the warm atmosphere got me excited.

While I was deep in the eight by ten space, I heard shouting.  One voice was male, the other female.  The metal walls distorted most of the sound, so I heard muffled anger but no details.  When the shouting stopped, I peeked through the door.

A tall woman with dyed blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, bent at the waist, fussed with a padlock on her shed.  And what a waist!  Too slim for her chest and hips.  She was right out of Vogue or more likely Penthouse.  Her wrinkle-free tanned skin looked like it was shrink-wrapped around her body.  Her white sleeveless blouse, shirttails tied, strained to constrain her big tits. If the shirt had buttons, none of them were fastened.  Below her exposed flat stomach, white short shorts exposed shapely legs, ending in white spiked heels with straps that climbed her ankles and calves, Roman style.  The sunglasses she wore didn't help her read the combination as she spun the dial.  When she twitched her head, the ponytail whipped from one side to the other.

When I stepped out of my storage area into the common corridor, she tilted the glasses down and peered at me over them.  I got a half smile as she fumbled with and then successfully opened her padlock.  Mine used a key.  She threw the door to her room open with a sweep of her arm, and then stood looking at the contents, hands on her hips, legs slightly spread, head erect.  So was I, half from memories of Saroya and half from the perfect body in the hall.  It was only in my fantasies that I'd be this close to a woman so perfect.  At computer trade shows, I'd look at the technology so I could write a trip report but my primary goal was schmoozing with the booth babes, the true or rented women with which companies would populate their booths, to draw a predominantly male audience.  Often, there would be one knockout; so gorgeous you knew she was a model and only appearing for a fat cash payment.  Only once did such a woman turn out to be an actual employee.

"Something missing?" I asked.

"No, but thanks."  Her eyes were burning a hole into the metal room.  Something was of great interest.  She would have caught me staring if she'd looked.

I moved closer to share the view.  She smelled wonderful.  I took a quick peek down the center of her cleavage before looking into the storage area.  Boxes had been stacked neatly in rows away from the walls, leaving empty space on all sides.  "The name's Marcus.  Harvey Marcus."

"Ella Ferguson."  She lifted the glasses and perched them on top of her head.  "Maybe you can help."  She took a slow deep breath, raising the mounds of flesh attempting escape from her blouse.

I like being the gentleman, even if I end up between the thighs of the lady in distress.   Or maybe because it ends that way.  And for this woman, I'd do almost anything.  "Sure.  What's up?"

"I need to get some papers from that box."  She pointed to a neatly marked box labeled "WEDDING" at the bottom of a floor-to-ceiling stack.  And if the boxes were filled with paper and not foam rubber, they'd be heavy.  "You can stack the others behind.  There's room."

Sure enough, there was an empty space between the stack and the rear wall, wide enough for me to stand behind the boxes and relocate them inside the shed.  That would let me touch each box only once.  "Harvey to the rescue."  

I walked behind the stack, Ella's heels clicking behind me.  As I bent to put the first box down, the room went dark and the sliding metal door clanked shut.

"Maxie?" Ella shouted.

No response.  

Someone, Ella, pounded on the metal door.  "Let me out!"

In the dark, I felt my way around the stack. My eyes were just acclimating.  Ella was a shadow in the darkness.  I knew we'd been locked in, but I asked anyway.  "What happened?"

"My husband, that's what.  If he can't keep me any other way, he'll do it by force.  Pompous jerk!"  

Her voice gave away her position, just a few feet away.  "You two had an argument?"

"He's pissed that I seduced the lawn boy."

What?  How do you respond when a stranger says that?  "You did?"  My eyes became acclimated to the darkness.  She was a lot more than a shadow.  Perfection like hers wasn't natural, at least in my experience.  And all women had a flaw.  Ella's seemed to be control.

"He's not a 'boy' boy.  He's in college.  When he took off his shirt, I got all swoony.  Broad shoulders and flat abs.  I couldn't help myself, really."

"I can understand why - Maxie? - would be upset."

"It's all his fault, come to think of it.  He made me be this way.  I used to be a Plain Jane.  Can you tell?"

I shook my head, and then realized she probably couldn't see that movement.  "No, not at all."

"Thanks.  I paid enough, it should look natural.  Time was, I didn't care much for sex, but Maxie demanded I give him a son."

Demanded?  I hadn't asked for her 'story' but what else was there to do, locked up like we were?  Sure, there was sex, but I'd only just met the woman.  Even I -

She continued, "So I got pregnant.  Thank God it was a boy.  I don't ever want to go through that again.  But after Junior was born, Maxie told me I looked all worn out.  Who wouldn't, caring for an infant and running the house, plus all of the errands Maxie gave me?  And when we had sex, he called me a sloppy fuck.  Can you believe it?  I got stretched out from the birth of his namesake, and he complains he can't feel my cunt around his cock."

I was learning way more about this woman's sex life than necessary.  Still, Maxie sounded like a pushy bastard.  No wonder she cheated on him.  "He sounds demanding."

"Oh no!  Maxie is a real sweetheart.  He cheered me on when I was getting myself into shape. 'Fixed up' was what he called it.  Whatever I wanted.  'Visit a spa, get your tits lifted, and maybe filled out a bit.  Tan up.  Spare no expense.  And get your pussy tightened.'  That's what he said.  So I did it all.  And afterwards, when I came out looking like this-"  she struck a pose, chest thrust forward, hands on her hips, one knee in front of the other, " I found that men liked to stare.  They'd get excited, just looking."  

Me included.  "Like the lawn boy?"

"Uh huh.  I was in a bikini, which didn't hurt."  She shook her head and her ponytail swished like a horse's tail. 

Ella in a bikini would get any man excited.  Just the thought had my prick poking.

"Before him was the laundry man.  I let him sample our sheets."  She giggled.  

Wow!  This woman is something else.  "I didn't know they still delivered."

"He sure did.  Pressed them real good."  She paused.  "And there was my son's third grade teacher."

Whoa!

She giggled.  "He sent home a note saying Maxie Junior wasn't trying hard enough, but teach sure got hard when I showed up in a miniskirt and forgot to keep my knees together."

Shit!  Was this a nympho I was locked in with?  The question needed to be asked, but I was scared of the answer.  Hell, we weren't going anywhere.  "Why do you do it?  I mean, get involved with other men?"  I thought the answer might be educational, given my history.

"I can't help myself."  Her voice was a whine.  "I feel sexy, so I act sexy.  Is that bad?  Maxie appreciates what I did, plus the ongoing maintenance.  It's just, I can't turn it off, and that turns men on."

"Whoever they were did a great job.  Is it difficult, staying in shape?"  The only shape I'd ever been in was slightly round at the middle.  A great personality, sense of humor and a big dick got most women past my physical appearance.

"I worked out with a personal trainer to get the baby fat off.  He was my first stray.  God, the exercises we would do!  I dumped him but kept the routine to stay trim.  My stomach is flat.  Feel."

She groped for my hand and stoked her stomach with it, from below her tit hammock to the waistline of her short shorts.

"Very smooth, and very tight."

"That's not all that's tight."  She turned her back towards me. "I got the cellulite pounded off of me.  Feel my legs."   

I hesitantly ran my hands up from her calves, which were firm and muscular, past the back of her knees.  She giggled as if I was tickling her.  Then, up the back of her thighs, staying on the outsides.  Her skin was taut.  Not a bit of sag or extra tissue.  "Don't forget the insides."  I palmed the back of her thighs just below her ass.  My thumbs naturally moved in between.

"Oh yes, I'm very tight there too."

Did she mean her thighs of her pussy?

"See, just a little contact and I'm all excited."  She rubbed her hand across my groin.  There was a lump.  "Oooh, so are you."

I jumped when she took hold of my prick, bloated in my pants.

"Oh God.  You've got to be kidding!"

She turned around, retaking my pants lump in hand.  "This is a mistake."

I tried to stutter an apology.  With all of that acknowledged sexual activity, I thought I was her next victim.  "Sorry, I'm just -"

"Huge!  I was thinking that we might do something - sexual. I mean, locked in here and all.  Kind of a turn on, right?  But not with this."

Her grasp became a stroke.  Wasn't caressing the length of my penis sexual?  Maybe not for her.  "That's okay.  Really."  I'd have given anything for sex with such a gorgeous woman, and she rejected me because my dick was too big.

"Maxie said I was loose after Jeremy was born, so I had a procedure - a vagina tuck." 

Ella had been a loose woman, but in a different sense of the term.  Now she's loose in the traditional sense.  Her son's teacher?  Man oh man.

"Now I'm tight, like before.  Except, the surgery did something to my clit.  Something rubs against it whenever I move, even when I walk.  Makes me horny all the time."

I'd have a perpetual hard-on if something massaged my prick twenty-four/seven.  I contemplated how a doctor might tighten a vagina.  No clue.  "Really?  So that's why-"

"The lawn boy, etcetera.  But they were all small compared to this."  Her hand explored the length of my dick.  "We can't have sex, you realize.  But do you mind if I-"  Her voice trailed off.

Mind if she rubbed me?  "Go ahead.  I'm all yours." 

Her fingers explored every inch of my cooped up cock.  Her massage struggled through my pants and jockeys.

Suddenly she removed her hand.  I heard a snap and a zipper.  Was she taking off her short shorts?  Her hand rejoined my penis and pulled me closer.  With deft manipulation, my prick had been coaxed from my jockeys while inside my pants.  She executed a few strokes to demonstrate her continued interest and maintain my rigidity.  "I'd love to sample this."  Now her voice was a cat's meowing.  "But I'm afraid it would undo all the work I had done.  You know, to tighten myself.  Tell me, do you fit in other women?  You have used this with other women, haven't you."

"A few."  Master of understatement I am.

"Melanie, my twin sister would appreciate your cock.  She appreciates all cocks.  I had no conception of her wanton lifestyle until my fix up got me constantly horny."

"Oh she would?  You'll have to introduce us."  Meeting Melanie would give me the "before" version of Ella, and the opportunity with another willing woman.  Where would that meeting take place?  Certainly not in public storage.

"She doesn't have these."  She put my hands on her breasts, still in the blouse sling.  "I bet you can't tell I have implants."  She untied the blouse.  Her breasts hardly sagged.  I took the initiative and put my hands back on bare flesh.  Her nipples were hard.  

"I know how men like you think.  I took Psychology in college."  

Jewish guys who try to do a favor for an attractive woman and get locked in with them by an angry husband?  Those kind of men?

"Instead of just feeling my breasts, you suck them."  She pulled my head to her chest.  I thrashed my mouth, trying to breathe.  "That's right, you'll suck my nipples until they're hard."  She dragged my head to her other breast.  "Both of them."

I'd never felt harder nipples on a woman.  Perhaps there were nipple implants to keep them this way.

"And you wouldn't just feel my legs.  You'd feel me up."  She forced my hand into her panties, against her pussy.  It was damp, oozing.  "And you'd see how tight I am, since my pussy tuck.  Go on, feel."  

My hand was going nowhere with her vice grip on my wrist.  I slid one finger between the puffy cunt lips and in.  "See.  See how tight.  I bet you can't get two fingers."

I'm always up for a challenge.  At least, always up.  She was right.  Two fingers was a stretch.  She'd have to stretch a whole bunch for anything bigger.

"So you see why we can't have sex."  Her hand traveled the length of my erection, still in my pants.

Who asked?  "Of course."

"Thank you for being reasonable.  Your cock is too large, you know.  Haven't other women said that?" she whispered.  "Even though being locked up, here, with you, has me really juicy."  All the while, she searched for my zipper that restrained the precise part of my anatomy she claimed to reject.

"I understand."  I didn't, but she hadn't made sense so far, and I'd given up.

"You'd stretch me all of shape."  My zipper hissed as her fingers pulled it down.  "I paid a lot of money to get tight.  Fucking with you would undo all the work I had, all of the surgery down here.  My husband enjoys our sexual escapades now.   You wouldn't want to spoil that, would you?"

"Nope.  We'll miss the chance, I guess."

Her hand reached past my zipper.  She was going in for direct contact.  With a bit of fumbling, she'd extracted my naked dick, the object of her attention.  She yanked at it, now fully erect and throbbing.   "My goodness.  You could do serious harm to an unsuspecting female with this."   She painted her crotch with my dick, up and down, and then rubbed the head of my dick against her pussy, spreading and squatting.  "My husband would notice the difference.  So would any other normal sized man."

So I was a freak?  Or had she just never happened across someone like me?

"I mean, if we did it-" She continued moistening my prick with her cunt juice.

"If?"  How did we get from 'No' to 'If'?

"It's a big if."  She repositioned my prick in her hand, taking control.  "A hard, fat if."

"If?"

"Yes, if we did it, the head of your cock would need to get past the opening.  Which would be quite difficult, don't you think?"

"Most women are elastic.  Did your surgery take that away?"  I was groping for details.  Ella was just groping.

"Let's see."  She positioned the head of my dick at her pussy and leaned against it.  "It sure is bloated."

"I had no choice.  You're a very attractive woman."

"You mean sexy, right?  I know all about men like you."

"Really?"  Men locked in storage sheds with women who've had excessive surgery?

"Yes, I've seen my share of porno films.  You tease women with your big cock until they beg for it.  You've done that, haven't you?  Teased someone with this?"  One finger traced the length of my prick.  She flicked her fingernail up past the crown.

Memories of Inga, the young woman who'd ministered for me, vacuumed my penis, showered with me, and sampled only a fraction of my dick.  Had I been teasing her, or trying to protect her?  My dick was positioned against Emma's pussy lips, spreading them, but no penetration.  She wrapped her arms and one leg around me.  "It would be so unfortunate if we were to-"  She leaned backwards, taking me with her.  She fell back into the stack of boxes, collapsing them.  In her grip I followed, between the valley of her thighs, my prick's head stuck between two tight pussy lips.  "See, that's precisely what I was talking about."

She'd caused the thing she wanted to avoid.  Maybe she was one of those, "Do what I want, not what I say" people.  With those kind, you never know if "No" means "No" or "Yes, go ahead."  

Confused, I experimented.  "I'm sorry.  Let me get up."  I wiggled side to side, while trying not to apply additional forward pressure.  My dick wasn't going any deeper if I could help it.

"You're already up."  Ella lifted her hips.  "Yes, please, this will only lead to something neither of us wants."

Didn't she?  I couldn't get any leverage, perched precariously on the stack of boxes on top of a stacked woman whose breasts pointed to the ceiling.  "I seem to be stuck.  That tightening they did was quite effective.  Are you always so firm down there?"

"I loosen up a bit when I get hot."

"You mean you're not?"  Most women with my cock between their thighs get hot pretty fast.

"Can't you feel?"  She bucked her hips.  I slid past her lips.  "Stop that!"

I hadn't done anything.  "Okay."  Her cunt muscles clamped down.  I couldn't escape if she wanted me to remain in her.  

"You're really brave, not like those other pricks."

"I am?"  Does it take courage to fuck this woman?

"My son's teacher relocated out of state, the laundryman asked for a different route, and the lawn boy transferred to a school in California, to avoid my husband.  You recognized Maxie, didn't you?"

"I didn't see him.  Maxie Ferguson?"

"I kept my maiden name.  I'm married to Maximillion Vinibaldi.  He's connected."

Vinibaldi?  Where did I know that name?  Shit!  I'd read about Maxie Vinibaldi.  Reputed head of The Family.  Connected to the Old World, if you catch my drift.  A goodfellow you don't want to cross. I struggled to extricate myself from Ella's thighs, but it was hopeless.  The best I could do was lift up a bit and then fall back, precisely the motion that Ella desired, or didn't.  A fucking motion.

"Oh God, please stop.  We shouldn't, but you're so hard, and it feels so good.  The pressure.  It's amazing."

A mobster's wife didn't want to fuck, and now she wants to, but if I do, then her husband will put me at the bottom of Lake Michigan.  "I'm trying to get off-"

"Melanie would be sooo jealous right now.  I bet she's never had such a big cock."

I wondered if she was married to a mobster as well.  Or if I'd ever have the chance to meet her, the only way I'd get to see how Ella looked before surgery.  "What about the stretching?"

"Oh, she can take any size."  She paused.  'Oh, you mean me?  It feels marvelous!"  Her face attacked mine, kissing me on my cheeks, lips and nose, and then sucking my ear.  No one had ever done that.  It was quite stimulating, and my hips lurched.  

"Oh God, we can't be doing this.  No matter how good it feels."

I thought about rolling us off the mountain of paper, but I couldn't estimate the distance we'd fall, or be sure that wouldn't force me deeper into her cunt.  If climbing off was not an option, perhaps getting her off was the next best thing.  I rocked back and forth.  Her juices lubricated our motion.  She was finally getting hot, and I hoped she was enjoying our predicament.  After all, she'd had sufficient experience to know what she liked.  "We shouldn't be doing this, but how does it feel?" I asked.

"This was an accident.  We're not doing anything, just lying here is all."

She was in denial but I was obstinate.  If I'm fucking someone, I at least want her to acknowledge it.  "Ella, I don't know how to tell you this, but we're fucking.  Really fucking."  I began to thrust in earnest.  Her pussy muscles were firm but my prick was steel.  I made forward progress.

"No, oh no we're not.  You're stuck is all.  It was an accident.  I never wanted this to happen.  Oh God, don't stop."

She was not tight only at the opening but all along the way.  Our position, laying in a stack of collapsed cartons, didn't make movement easier.  I couldn't get up quickly if I needed to, so I kept doing what came natural, probing the depths of her cunt.

And then I heard metal clanking, like a lock wobbling against the door.  Then a click, and the rasp of the door sliding open.  Ella's husband?  Shit!  I'm going to die for my sins.  Or one sin, the current one.

He was a lot shorter than her, grey hair, a blue golf shirt and dress slacks.  His voice was gritty but tentative.  "Ella, I apologize.  Let's go home and -  What the fuck?  Ella-"  He said her name as a sigh.  "Why do you do this to me?"  He jingled keys or change in his pocket.  Or maybe bullets.

I kept my mouth shut. Smart fish do that.  Shit, I'd be swimming with the fishes out in Lake Michigan for this.

"I can explain, Maxie."  Ella tried to sit up, forcing her tits into my face.  Under any other circumstance, I'd have acted on the opportunity to suck her nipples.  In this case, I kept my mouthy closed and held my breath.

Maxie grabbed my elbow and pulled me off his wife.  I fell on the concrete floor,  landing on my hip.  Shit, the last thing I needed was a hospital stay.  Then I remembered I was going to die.

"I'm not well-enough equipped, huh?"  Maxie had seen my penis.  Not like it was hidden or anything.  "A guy built like that is going to make you sloppy again."

I doubted it, but correcting a mob boss was the world's worst idea.

"Who are you anyway?" he asked.  "Wait, don't tell me.  The mailman?"  Finally, a direct question.

I'd delivered, but not despite rain and sleet.  "I rent the storage locker next door."

"You meet Ella here regular?"

"Oh no.  Never.  She asked me to move some boxes, that's all."

"So you moved in on her box, is that it?"

I didn't have an answer because I didn't know how we got from "We can't" to "Oh yes."  "It kind of just happened.  Locked in and all."

"Are you blaming me?"  His face got redder.

"Oh no.  No sir.  Just circumstances.  You ever been locked up with a beautiful woman?  A woman with needs?"

Maxie rubbed his chin.  "Once.  In Jersey." he smiled.  "Her brother found us. Shit, was he angry."  Maxie extended his hand to Ella.  She stood, tall and naked.  God, she had a great body, even if it wasn't natural.  My dick flinched.  I hoped Maxie was preoccupied and didn't notice.  I wanted to keep my penis. And my life.

"Please, Maxie, it's my fault.  I'm always horny, you know?"

"Yes, I do."  Maxie handed Ella her clothes, which she dutifully put on.  Even dressed she was hot.  "I know how Ella is.  If you say this was no on going thing, then I believe you."  He handed me a card as if this was a business meeting.  Maximillion Vinibaldi, Chairman, MultiMax International.

"You're MultiMax?" I sputtered.

"Yeah.  What do you think?  Did Ella say something?"

Ella's face turned pink.  "I make a big deal out of your connections."

Maxie wasn't mob.  He was legit.  "And I thought connections meant-"  I pointed my hand, index finger out like the barrel of a gun.

His grin spread, his cheeks puffing out. "You thinking of my brother Vinny?  Vincenzo, he's Family."   He pushed my hand gun away.  "Even I don't cross Vinny."

So I'm standing naked in front of the Chairman of MutiMax.  Max himself.  "You bought out Zenellis!"

"That's right.  As soon as their stock dropped.  I'd been waiting for the opportunity and then one day, boom -"

I jumped.

"- they're in the toilet."

"I know."

"Arcuda told me there was some accident. Not what I got from my sources.  More like an orgy."

Ella licked her lips.

"You've on the right track."  The artificial pheromones got loose in their lab and caused wide-spread fucking.

"You know something about it?"

I decided not to take full credit.  "I brought Zenellis some product ideas."

"You don't seem the type."

I didn't know what type that was. "I attended his father/daughter thing in Wisconsin as a guest of my neighbor, one of Zenellis's employees."

Maxie stared at my equipment, still partially erect.  "Yeah, you'd the kind Arcuda recruited all right.  I've heard stories but never qualified for an invite."

Too small a dick?  I didn't want to know.  Then it hit me.  Ella had given Maxie a son, an heir.  No daughter to swap.  "Let's just say that one of my projects he was testing ran amuck."

"I read all of the pending contracts before the buy-out.  To protect myself.  What's your name again?"

"Harvey Marcus," cooed Ella.

"Marcus.  Marcus."  Maxie scratched his head.  "Yeah, a couple of product ideas and some aphrodisiac stuff."

"That's me."  FastTack was mine.  Lillian Mutzman was the brains behind artificial pheromones.

"Yours, huh?  And how!  So you brought old Arcuda to his knees?"  Maxie took my hand and shook it non-stop for several minutes. The same hand that had groped his wife's tits and felt her up.

'Like I said, I contributed."

"Then no hard feelings.   But put some clothes on.  Please.  I'm getting an inferiority complex."

I pulled my pants up, jockeys lost in the chaos of split open boxes and strewn papers.

"We're going home," Maxie said.  Ella didn't argue.  "We have to get you some help."  He clicked the lock shut on their demolished storage cubby.  "Can I do something for you?  After all, if you fucked up Zenellis, you're due some payback."

I thought for a moment about asking Maxie what ever became of the products I'd invented for Zenellis.  Maybe he'd do a licensing deal.  Having gotten away with fucking his wife, I decided not to push my luck.  Or maybe I was thinking with my dick and not my bank account.  "Could I meet Ella's sister?"

"You want to be introduced to Melanie?"  Maxie stroked his chin. "Yeah,  I can do that.  Seems fitting.  You fucked Zenellis, I got his company.  You fucked my wife, you get her sister."

That made no sense but I nodded vigorously as if he'd uttered the purest truth.

As I headed back to my storage room, I watched the tall woman and short man disappear around a turn in the hallway.  I still had to find a hardhat, Harriett's college folder on project management and half a dozen vinyl three-ring binders.  Oh yes, and the documentation regarding the money I got from Zenellis Enterprises.  I wondered whatever happened to Saroya, and what Melanie would look like.

###

An Original H M Tale 

I'm always interested in reader feedback.  Send me an email to harveymarcus9@comcast.net and tell me what you think.
Copyright (c) 2008, HarveyMarcus.  All Rights Reserved.




