The Spirit is Willing

"That... didn't seem to go very well," Bridget said, resuming her place in his lap. She wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. She could feel the burning heat of his humiliation.

"No, it didn't," he muttered.

"Well, it was only try number one. Now I know how much work is ahead of us." Under her breath, but still loud enough for Eric to hear, she muttered, "I wonder if I'll get overtime for this..."

Eric licked his wounds for an entire day after that night. Bridget tried to tell him that all his wounds were self-inflicted. He asked, "Does that make them hurt less?" She acknowledged the truth of the matter, and let him be. She actually disappeared for a while, to let him try to get over it by himself.

It was clear, after a day, that he wasn't going to get over it. She sighed to herself, and decided to take matters back into her own hands.

Eric was working on some research for a book he was writing. He sat at his desk, going over a book he'd gotten from the library on Celtic history. He was well-involved in the material; it was the only thing he knew that could make him forget about his troubles. His boss at work had noticed his lack of attentiveness and had chewed him out for not working hard enough. It seemed that his failure was impacting everything.

As he sat reading, Eric tried not to think about the night before last. It had been humiliating to not even be able to say hello. He was very aggravated at his vocal chords for deserting him as they had, but he realized that pissing them off would only make sure it happened again.

Eric had just turned the page, and was about to start a new section, when his view was entirely blocked by a naked woman sitting on his desk. He jumped back, startled, though he knew who it was before he looked up past her wonderful tits to see her beautiful brown eyes twinkling at him.

"Hey there, lover," she purred.

"Bridget! You could give a guy a heart attack like that!"

"Ooooh. We wouldn't want to do that," she said with a raise of the eyebrows.

"What's on your mind?" Eric asked.

Bridget spread her legs, putting one on either side of Eric's chair. This gave him a wonderful view of her recently-shaven pussy. Bridget reached down to stroke her pussy lips with two fingers.

"You write about it all the time. I want to see if you're any good doing it. C'mon, stud, eat me out!"

Bridget leaned forward and used her free hand to grip the back of Eric's head, pulling his face down toward her cunt. Eric was hesitant, but he didn't fight her. He took a good look at her already-dripping pussy, and he let his tongue slip out of his mouth. He licked along her pussy lips, and heard her mewl in pleasure. His tongue decided it liked this activity, and dove back in for more. Eric stroked his tongue along the entire length of her lips, lapping up her juices and sending tingles through her body.

Bridget leaned back on her hands and moaned. "Oh, yeah, lover, do it!"

Eric plunged his tongue into Bridget's opening, allowing his tongue to wiggle inside her. She shivered with the sensation, and let her head fall backward, her eyes closed and her mouth open in a long, drawn-out sigh.

Eric's tongue decided to tango, and slipped wetly against Bridget's pussy lips. His tongue twisted and turned, sliding up and down, getting all areas of her pussy. Finally, his tongue moved up, finding its tango partner waiting. Eric slid his tongue over and around Bridget's clit, eliciting loud moans and sighs from Bridget. His tongue danced happily with her clit, sending sparks of pleasure throughout her body.

The rest of Eric's body felt extremely left out of this process. His hand, annoyed with things, decided to take the initiative. Two fingers reached forward and pushed their way into Bridget's cunt. Bridget groaned as Eric's digits invaded her. They soon were all the way in, and Eric's hand began moving back and forth, finger-fucking Bridget as the tongue still danced with her clit.

Bridget was awash in a sea of ecstasy, her eyes tightly shut and her moans and cries filling the room. Her hips were bucking against Eric, her body building to its ultimate peak. She was surprised at how good she felt, at how much Eric could actually pleasure her in this way.

Eric's lips soon decided they were tired of being a middle-man. They bypassed the tongue, sucking Bridget's clit inside Eric's mouth. His lips continued to kiss and suck her clit, and his fingers continued to pound into her pussy. Eric could barely hold on, as Bridget's hips bucked harder and harder against his face.

Finally, Bridget let out a loud cry, and her juices flooded Eric's fingers and chin. He continued to pleasure her throughout her orgasm, prolonging it as much as he could. It was over a minute before Bridget came down enough to catch her breath.

As she looked down at him, she gave him a smile of adoration. Eric rose from his seat, and undid his pants.

"Your turn..." Bridget was more than willing to reciprocate.

It was Monday night, and Eric was back in his booth at the same club. The crowd was still scarce. Not that Eric noticed, since he was busy paying attention to the girl in his lap. He managed not to stutter when he ordered his beer this time, however.

"Good boy," Bridget said, kissing him on the cheek.

"Bridget, how come we only come here on Mondays?"

"Julie's only in here on Monday."

"Why a Monday?"

"She has Tuesday and Wednesday off. So Monday is her Friday."

"Thank you for attempting to confuse me as much as possible," Eric said with a grin. Bridget smiled, and kissed him again.

The couple necked and talked for a while before Julie came in. Eric managed to get two full beers down before she showed up. He was attempting to bribe his body with alcohol, in the hopes it would cooperate this time.

"So, are you going to try again, or are you just going to stare at her all night?" Bridget asked.

"Ummm..." Eric replied.

"C'mon, Eric. We've only got nineteen days left."

"I know. It's just... hard."

"Look, you're a great person, you've got a decent job, a good future, and a wonderful personality. You're not bad to look at, either. You do have a major confidence problem, though. Other than that, there's not a better guy in this bar."

"Thanks, Bridget. Okay, I'll give it a try."

"Good." Bridget nodded, and then climbed off his lap to let him up.

Eric hesitated for a long moment, but Bridget's stare made sure he finally got out of the booth. He saw Julie was staring down at the bar top, and he wondered what she was thinking. As he walked over, his knees seemed to insinuate that they had not been paid enough for the journey, and might refuse to take him all the way. His brain asserted a bit of authority, and the knees complied, albeit unhappily.

Eric leaned against the bar, and waited for Julie to turn to face him. Meanwhile, his brain was having to assert all kinds of authority to get body parts back in line, and it was making him dizzy with the effort.

Suddenly, Julie did turn her head, and she was looking him in the face. He felt the heat rising, but tried to force it back down where it belonged. He knew it was time for him to say something, but his vocal chords still seemed reluctant. With one final push, his brain won the battle – for now – and got them to cooperate.

"Hi. Um, would you like to dance?"

At this point, Eric's brain demanded, "You made me do all that work for that?"

Julie smiled at him, but shook her head. Very politely, she said, "No, thank you."

Eric was almost relieved to have been rejected, given the state of his union at the moment, which seemed on the verge of strike. He nodded jerkily, and headed back to his seat. He knew that Bridget would not be happy with his performance, but what was he supposed to have done?

"Good try, bad delivery," Bridget said as he sat down. She crawled back into his lap, and wrapped her arms around him. "We're going to have to work on your speaking skills under pressure."

"Like I could ever talk to her again," Eric said morosely.

"Oh, she won't even remember tonight's conversation by the morning."

"I wish."

"No, really. It's part of my magic. Unless you succeed, she won't remember you at all."

"Hmph. At least I won't be the subject of a girl-to-girl phone call..."

"Anyway, you had the right idea, you just... did a poor job of delivery. You're still too scared. She wants to go out with you. You have to believe that, or you'll never manage anything."

"Well, tonight I managed to get rejected again. Can we go home now?"

"I suppose. But don't think I'm letting you off the hook completely. You've got a lot of work ahead of you."

"Oh, joy."

The next day, Bridget invaded the one space that Eric had held away from her, or so he thought of it. In truth, he knew she went where she wanted, but up until now, she had not accompanied him to work.

"Why are you here?" he asked, seeing her staring at him from across his office. He'd grown accustomed to her naked form, but he ogled her, anyway.

"I told you I wasn't letting you off the hook. You need to learn to be able to hold a conversation with someone regardless of how you're feeling, and sort of 'disconnect' yourself from your body's reactions. Your body wants to run away from any situation where you're talking to a new girl. We have to get your brain to override your body's physical reaction."

"Okay... um... how do we do that?"

She strolled across the room and motioned to him to push back from his desk. He was not entirely surprised when she dropped to her knees. She unbuckled his belt and undid his pants, reaching in and carefully withdrawing his not-fully-hard cock.

"Well, this is an improvement. You don't get hard just staring at me when we're having a conversation." He had, however, gotten hard just as soon as her hand touched his dick. Bridget sighed. "Well, one thing at a time. In about a minute, your boss is going to call you on the phone. You're going to have to hold a conversation with him, no matter what I do."

"Bridget..." Eric said, knowing just exactly what she would do, but she cut him off.

"You've got to learn. Either you'll pull it off, or your boss will think you're some kind of weirdo. Your choice, lover."

As Bridget wrapped her dainty fingers around his shaft, the phone rang. Eric groaned from a mixture of pleasure and dread. He lifted the receiver to his ear, and began to speak, just as Bridget's lips found his cock head.

"H-hello? Mr. Bannett! Yes, sir, what can I do f-for you?" Bridget noted the slip in his voice, but she refused to slow down her sucking. Her tongue was now leading the way, slipping out ahead of her lips as they slid down his cock. It didn't take long before her lips were resting against the base of his shaft, and she began to suction his prick.

"Yyes, sir. I understand the requirrrements of the assignment. It's not a prrroblem. I'll have it ready... for you by the end of the week." Bridget was actually proud of Eric, he was doing so well. His stumbles were barely noticeable, and she felt it was time to up the ante.

Bridget began to bob her head enthusiastically on Eric's cock. She slurped and sucked, trying to draw the cum out of his balls. She listened as he continued to talk to his boss, stumbling only a couple times as she brought him closer and closer to climax.

Eric could feel his balls tightening, and he hoped that his boss would hang up before he had to come, because he didn't think he could hold his voice steady through that.

"Yes, s-sir, I will, s-sir. I understand. Good day to you, too, s-sir...UNGH!" Eric cried out as soon as the phone was back on the hook. His cum splashed deep into Bridget's mouth, and she swallowed it all. His hips bucked at her, shoving his cock into her throat as he continued to spasm. It was several seconds before his eruption ended, and he was able to begin to catch his breath.

Bridget sat back on her heels, and looked up at him. She waited as he caught his breath. She knew that she had pushed him to the very limit, but she also knew that she didn't have much time, and that she'd have to push even harder.

After a few minutes, when she knew he would be ready for her, she took his prick in her hand again. Eric sighed in frustration.

"I know you have to call the head of accounting. She's a stuck up little bitch, and she's already filed sexual harassment against one staff member." She had been fondling Eric's cock, and it was already back to complete hardness. She straddled his waist as she said, "Go ahead and call her, but you might ought to not breathe heavy into the phone..."

"Eric, I don't want to put any pressure on you, but this really is our last chance at this. She won't be back in here before I have to return."

"Couldn't we then try a different girl?"

"No. This is the girl. It's very specific. Now, please, don't do what you did last week..."

"Okay, already!"

"Sheesh. You're a writer. In your stories, do those lines ever work?"

Eric hung his head sheepishly. "No."

"There's a reason for that." The previous week, Eric had almost gotten himself slapped trying a pick-up line. "You need to be yourself. Look, I told you, she wants to be with you, she just doesn't really understand that yet. You need to convince her. And you've got one shot left at it."

"So... what do I do? You said you'd teach me the right things to say, but you haven't really taught me anything!"

"You haven't been listening," Bridget retorted. "Remember, she needs to trust you. Make her your friend, but don't lose sight of your ultimate goal, or you'll end up being only a friend."

"I know all about that."

"I know you do. And yet you keep making that mistake."

"Ouch."

"Sorry, but you want me to lie about it?"

"No, I guess not."

"Okay, well, there she is. Good luck, loverboy."

Eric looked at Julie from across the room, and for the first time, he really paid attention to her posture. He'd been so wrapped up in his own troubles that he hadn't really taken the time to study her before. Luckily, Bridget understood what he was doing, and kept quiet. Finally, Eric got up and headed across the room.

He slid onto the seat next to Julie, and motioned to the bartender. He ordered a soda rather than a beer. He wanted to try to stay sober tonight. He glanced at Julie out of the corner of his eye, and what he had thought he'd seen from across the room was confirmed by the look on her face.

After debating several different ways to start the conversation, he settled on, "You look like you could use a friend."

Julie's head jerked, startled by his voice. She turned to face him, questioningly. "Huh?"

"You look like the world's collapsing around you. Is it really that bad?"

She gave him a tight but appreciative smile. "No, I suppose not. It's just work shit."

"Want to talk about it?" he asked, hoping she wouldn't say no.

"I wouldn't want to burden you with it."

"C'mon," he said. "I'm far too carefree," he said with a smirk, "I need some burdens. Let me buy you a drink, and we can talk about it."

She laughed at his rather feeble joke, but nodded, anyway. "Okay. Thanks."

An hour later, the two had moved to a booth. In fact, it was the booth that he and Bridget had sat in so many times, which was odd, because he'd allowed Julie to pick the booth. Bridget, Eric noticed, was nowhere to be seen. He was sure she was watching, though.

At the moment, there was a lull in the conversation. Eric finally got up his courage and asked, "You want to dance?"

Julie only paused for a second. "Sure." He got up and took her hand, walking over to the jukebox, which had become silent only moments before. He picked three songs, and they headed for the dance floor.

All of the songs Eric had chosen were slow songs, and Julie smiled demurely at him as she put her arms around his neck. He gently took hold of her waist, and they began moving together. Eric wondered just what payment his body was going to demand for its cooperation tonight, because for once he felt like he wasn't going to fall apart in her presence.

The two danced together without saying anything. At the end of the second song, Julie pulled him closer to her. They were now in a much tighter embrace, and she laid her head against his shoulder as the song began. The couple moved in small circles on the dance floor, not really going anywhere. This was probably a good thing for Eric, since he didn't want to push his body parts into rebellion. His only problem was that there was a specific body part that was cooperating a little too vigorously, and as tightly as Julie was pressed against him, she had to be able to feel it.

At the end of the song, Julie pulled back from him, but didn't let him go. She smiled warmly at him, and his heart decided it wasn't needed for a few beats. She leaned forward slowly, and he did, too, hoping against hope that what he thought she was doing was what she was doing.

Their lips met shortly thereafter, and Eric was certain his heart had called it a night entirely. He decided it didn't matter, though. If he died right here in this moment, he would die happy.

Somehow, his heart was coaxed back into doing its job, and he made it through the kiss, though he felt quite dizzy. Julie continued to smile at him. Finally, she stepped away, reaching for his hand as she did so. She wasn't leading him back to their table, however, but toward the door. He had trouble keeping his eyebrows down where they belonged, so surprised was he at this turn of events.

When they got outside, Julie looked around before she turned to Eric. "Which one's yours?"

He smiled at her, trying not to look completely stupid, and then he led her over to his car. He unlocked it, and politely helped her into her seat. He walked around and got in himself, and started the car, before a question arose in his mind... but wasn't that a pick-up line, too? He decided he didn't have much choice if he wanted the information.

"Your place, or mine?"

"Mine," she said quietly, smiling over at him. He didn't understand what it was he'd done that had allowed what appeared to be happening to be happening, but he wasn't going to question it now. He drove out of the parking lot, and followed her directions to her place. It didn't take long, and before he knew it, he was pulling into the parking garage of her building. He turned the car off and sighed, before he dared do anything.

"You coming?" Julie asked him. She'd already opened her door and gotten out, and was now looking back at him. Eric nodded to her, and opened his own door. His legs decided it was time to protest again, insinuating that they might not hold him up. His brain slapped them down soundly this time, with a little help from his libido. He walked behind her to the elevator.

The ride up was silent, and more than a little uncomfortable for Eric. He wasn't used to 'taking girls home' like this. Worse, she had taken him home, and that was odder yet. He followed her almost numbly out of the elevator and down the hall. He tried to remain calm as she unlocked the door, and he followed her inside. He turned to her as she locked the door, taking little to no notice of the apartment itself.

When Julie turned to face Eric, she had already undone every button on her blouse. She nearly threw herself against him, and their lips locked instantly. He was startled, but his libido seemed to carry him now, and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing back and caressing her back. Her tongue wormed its way out, and insistently pressed against his lips until he parted them, allowing the slick invader deep into his own territory, where his own tongue dueled with hers, the sensuous battle appearing to be an even match.