Consolation Surprise Pt. 02

Thanks to all who commented on the previous submission, especially those who made constructive suggestions, both publicly and privately.

*****

When I arrived home I was joyfully overwhelmed by the new look Denny had given the condo. There were tastefully lit pictures of various scenes hung on the foyer walls. In the kitchen area there was a small breakfast table which seated three. Gone were the wooden barstools, replaced with leather and wrought iron stools which fashionably complemented the kitchen island.

Moving into the living area I saw a large leather couch, recliner and two other comfortable looking chairs, all arranged to look at a large flatscreen TV, with two smaller monitors on each side. With the sports memorabilia on the walls, I deduced the idea was to enjoy a televised game, while monitoring two others. That was a lot of action to take in at once! I was duly impressed with how Denny had gotten in my head and transferred that to my living space.

Moving towards the bedrooms, I noticed my queen bed had been moved into the spare bedroom, and the decor had a decidedly feminine look and feel to it. Okay. The master bedroom had been completely redone; the paint scheme was, what I later learned, 'Newman Blue', supposedly the color of the actor's eyes. Pleasant enough. The queen bed was replaced with a king size bed, new nightstands and dressers, and a high-back chair in the corner. If Denny had been standing next to me at the time, she would have heard me utter, "I love it."

As a matter of fact, it all looked so good I didn't want to spoil the effect by undressing and emptying my suitcase. Denny did good. Real good. Her work would always remind me she was here, as well as the brief physical memories of her touching me. I could settle.

But first, I had to call her to let her know how pleased I was. When she picked up her cell, I jokingly said, "Hi honey, I'm finally home and got your message."

Recognizing my voice, she laughingly said, "Oh, you're so silly! Can I assume you like it?"

"You assume incorrectly," pausing before finishing, "I love it. Truly and absolutely. You really got into my head."

More than you think, I wanted to add, but decorum dictated I not.

"Great!" Denny replied, before saying, "Scottie, you and I are going out tomorrow night. We'll swing by and pick you up, we can talk more about it then. But now I gotta run. Busy. See you then. Love ya."

Click.

I held the phone away from myself and stared at it. Going out tomorrow? Did I have any say? Knowing Denny, neither Scott or I did.

Then I remembered Denny's words to me after she'd spent the night, "When you christen this place after I'm done, make sure she's worthy."

Little did I know, those words would come back to haunt me.

Soon after my condo makeover, I was assigned to a special project at an off-site corporate office. It had a six month timetable, with monthly progress reports the first four, an options/recommendations presentation after the fifth month, and a final report at the end. I was to be paired with a corporate program analyst, and this was to be a team effort. Any disagreements, which were a normal part of the process, had to be resolved between us before the presentation.

The preceding Friday I went to the site to scope out where I'd be working.

Being an early riser for as long as I can remember, I was in the office a little before 7 a.m. It took about an hour to get settled and logged in, and promptly at 8 a.m. my "partner" walked in.

She introduced herself as Catherine, but insisted I call her Katie because if I addressed her by her formal name, I'd likely get a silent response. Ohhhh-kaaaay...

Despite her curt greeting, I did notice 'Katie' was quite an attractive woman, probably mid- to late-twenties. Standing about five-seven in medium heels, she wore her obviously longer dark blonde hair up quite nicely. On this particular day she wore a smartly-tailored dark blue pantsuit, and white blouse nicely accentuated with a thin dark blue ribboned pendant through the collar. When she removed her jacket to hang it, peering up from my monitor I surmised her breasts were in the 34C range. Nice.

Our desks didn't exactly face each other's, but they were set up in such a way, at angles, that we could easily converse without any physical discomfort.

Trying to thaw the frosty atmosphere, I said, "Katie? Because I arrived earlier, I just grabbed this desk. If it would be more ideal for you, I'll gladly swap places."

Looking up at me from the box she was unloading on her desktop, then around the room, Katie softly replied, "No, but thank you. This one will do just fine. But I do appreciate the thought," she spoke, trying to sound sincere.

I tried to return to what I was doing, but noticed, among the papers and folders she was moving from the box to her desktop, removed and set down a picture of a young girl, I'm guessing maybe around age six?

"Pretty girl," I politely said while pointing with a pen at the picture frame, "Your daughter?"

Katie seemed to stiffen just a little and drew in a sharp breath before noticeably relaxing. As I straightened up, ready for the impending barrage, Katie smiled and said, "Yes, Meghan, my daughter. This picture is a couple of years old."

"Lovely girl," I said, "She looks like her mother."

Katie stiffened again, and trying to avert the next war, I quickly said, "Just so you know, that wasn't a come on line, or me trying to be flirty."

Katie exhaled and some normal color started to return to her face.

I continued, "I was just acknowledging a natural fact, no more, no less. She strongly resembles her mother. Meghan, you said?"

Katie nods in agreement.

"Well, Meghan should be very happy and proud she looks like her mother. As happy and proud as I'm sure her mother is of her."

Seeing her relax a little more, I looked for an obvious out. Standing up, I said, "I'm getting myself some coffee, can I get you a cup as well?"

Relaxing, and then with a soft, faint smile said, "That would be nice, yes. And, thank you."

"Not a problem at all, how do you take it?"

Katie pulled a small container of powdered creamer from the box and held it up.

"Got it," I said and began walking towards the kitchenette, hoping things would be a little more mellow once I returned. I took my time before heading back.

Katie was sitting at her desk when I returned, looked up and said, "Thank you," as I handed her the cup, and then sat at my desk.

Moments of silence passed, other than the tap of a keyboard and shuffling of papers, before Katie turned her chair in my direction and said, "Sorry to interrupt, got a minute?"

"Sure, too early to dive too deep into this project anyways. What's up?"

Katie leans forward, placing her hands on her desk, and begins, "Sorry if I seemed a little irritated earlier. Been a busy morning, getting my daughter ready for school, then the traffic getting here. And while this is a new project, I've worked with two other, umm, gentlemen, separately, in the last six months. Both were arrogant, wanted me to fetch their coffee like a good office girl, and thought I should be their personal play toy."

She was on a roll, so I sat back in my chair and let her continue.

"We obviously don't know each other," Katie stated, "But in the hour we've been in this room, you don't seem to be cut from the same cloth as them. Look, we're both good at what we do, or we wouldn't be here. All I want is to be respected as a person, and for my work. This is supposed to be a working relationship, and I want to successfully contribute as much as I'm guessing you do. No more, no less. I don't want to be treated special, nor do I want to feel diminished or degraded. Is that okay with you?"

I sat there looking at her for a moment, and only spoke when she raised a questioning eyebrow at my nonresponse, "Gee, I didn't think you'd ever speak to me today," I jokingly said.

"Seriously," I continued, while straightening up in my chair, "I agree with everything you said, except the lecherous old men stuff. We're a team, neither could complete this without the other. I want to finish on or ahead of schedule, produce a good product, and I don't care who gets credit for what, as long as it's done right."

"And," I added, "someone thought we'd do well together or we wouldn't be here. So, where do you want to start?"

The air having been cleared and ground rules established, we went about breaking the requirements down into phases and assigned one or the other various tasks that we'd merge once completed. Over the next few weeks we worked like a well-oiled, professional machine, and got along wonderfully.

After our first, and very successful meeting with the higher-ups, we agreed to have lunch together, out of the office environment, for the first time. We spoke in generalities about each other's lives, not knowing each other well enough at this point to get into any detail, sordid or otherwise.

However, when the subject of her daughter, Meghan, arose, Katie's eyes lit up and she spoke proudly and effusively of the young girl. You knew from her words and body language she loved her daughter very much, and would do anything for her.

Several weeks later, as we were wrapping things up on a Friday afternoon, out of the blue, and somewhat shockingly, Katie asked if I had any plans for the night and weekend?

"No real plans, other than decompress from the week. How about you," I asked, feigning mild interest.

"Home alone, as it were," she said, "Meghan is with her grandparents, my folks, the entire weekend. They're taking her to Hershey Park, and will drop her off at school Monday."

"Kids have all the fun," I said out loud while straightening my desktop.

"Would you like to go out for dinner," Katie asks?

Shocked at such a suggestion given our conversation the first day, I stop what I'm doing and look up at her. "Do you think that's a good idea?"

"It's just dinner. I'm starving, and I've had it with the drive-thru fare."

Waiting for a response that doesn't come, she then says, "Look, I'm going to eat with or without you. I'm not asking you to buy me dinner, just for a little conversation over a meal. I think you may lead, or have led, an interesting life and want to hear about it. What do you say?"

"Okay, but I'm paying." Seeing a bit of concern start to wash over her face, I quickly move to diffuse any 'bad' thoughts she may be having by saying, "No strings, It's just the gentlemanly thing to do. And with that, you get to choose the venue. But go easy, I'm not eating or paying for anything I can't pronounce without a Rosetta Stone program."

"No drive-thru's," Katie says, shaking her finger at me as she turns to leave.

"No drive-thru's," I reply as I follow her out of the building.

We mutually agreed to a cozy Italian place with a reputation for good food. The relaxed atmosphere and wine had us talking freely about the more personal things in our lives. Turns out Katie got pregnant while still in high school, which made her change any college plans. Meghan's father was pretty much nonexistent in their lives, so Katie worked at various low-level jobs, going to college at night and on weekends while her parents babysat. It took a little longer than originally planned, but Katie finally graduated with a degree in analytics, and worked her way up from the initial entry-level job to where she is today.

She said her devotion to Meghan's well-being left little time for personal relationships, and because of a couple of bad decisions she made with different men, she was hesitant to let anyone near her daughter.

All that was told during a very nice dinner, over more than a couple of hours, and two bottles of wine. Neither of us were feeling any pain, but I think we mostly had our wits about us. Having paid for the meal, I assisted Katie from her seat and then noticed she kept holding my hand as we walked outside, into the night air.

Once on the sidewalk, still holding my hand in hers, Katie turned to me and said, "Take me home, please."

"Sure, where do you live?" I asked.

Moving closer, she replied, "No, take me to your home." Squeezing my hand more firmly, she moves even closer until her cheek was softly brushing against mine, and softly, but urgently whispered, "Please!"

We walked to my car, where I assisted her into the passenger seat. Taking a deep breath of cool night air, I walk around the front and slide into the driver's seat.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" I ask, turning to Katie. "We're a pretty good team, this might change our working relationship."

"Yes," she replies, "we are a good team. I want to take this up a notch, I think we'll be a good match in other ways."

"Katie. Catherine," I say with emphasis, trying to make her see the seriousness of what she's proposing. "Are you sure this isn't the wine influencing your notable decision making skills?"

Turning towards me and placing her warm left hand on my right thigh, she says, "I have other skills that are notable, that I'd like to demonstrate... at your place. Please, don't make me ask again."

I verified the car manufacturer's claim of zero to sixty as we sped towards the condo. Once inside, she turned and started to slip off her coat so I stepped behind her and caught it as it fell from her shoulders. All the time she's looking around, and walking into the main area as I hang her coat and my jacket.

"You didn't do this yourself," she stated, looking directly at me. "Do you live with someone?"

As she turned and slowly started walking throughout the open space, I replied, "I hired a professional to do this. The wife of a good friend."

"Uh, huh," came her response, "She must really like you. You said she was a good friend," she asked, while still gazing about before looking back to me.

"The wife of a good friend. She does this for a living. Well, more of a hobby. They live comfortably on Scott's salary. Hell, Bangladesh would be comfortable with Scott's salary."

I heard Katie make an "mmmmm" sound, as she started walking down the hallway, stopping to peer in the rooms along the way.

Becoming a bit irritated with the tone and direction the conversation seemed to be heading, I quickly closed the space between us, lightly placed my hands on her shoulders, and started moving them up and down her arms, to the elbow and back.

Putting my mouth to the back of her ear, I whispered with a heavy breath that sent a tingle down her neck, "Did we really come here to talk about some decorator?" I purposely used the word 'some' as a way of removing Denny from the conversation.

It illicited the desired response as she quickly turned, and with a desire in her eyes I hadn't seen to this point, Katie sensuously spoke, "You're right, that's not why we're here. (pause) I love your choice of words, however."

Thinking she was referring to the emphasis I placed on 'some', I wasn't sure where she was heading with this, and the puzzled look on my face must have given me away.

"You said 'did we really come here'," Katie softly said, "I'm hoping we do. Come here. All night. I need to come so badly. Please, help me come."

With that she grabbed my hand and practically pulled me into the bedroom, stopping as we encountered footboard. Her hands quickly, and deftly unbuttoned my shirt. Once opened, she smoothly ran her hands up and down my chest, before going lower and started to attack my belt.

Before she can complete the task, I gently held her shoulders and quickly spun her so that she's looking away from me. I again run my hands up and down her arms before moving to her dress's zipper and slowly began sliding it down as far as it will go. I loosen the sleeves and slide them down her shoulders as she catches the dress from falling further past her stomach.

I gently unfasten her bra, moving my hands up to her shoulders where the straps had been and softly, but firmly message the reddened area. The bra now lays on top of her gathered dress where she's holding it just above the panty line. I reach around and cup her warm, soft breasts in each hand, gently kneading them outward until I reach the tips and lightly pinch her nipples.

Katie's head is tilted back, resting on my collarbone and neck, her eyes closed as she softly purrs in response to my actions. I can smell her perfume and the sweet fragrance of her hair, creating an intoxicating mixture that, combined with the warmth of her firm breasts, is causing a stirring sensation in my crotch.

Abruptly, Katie straightens up and turns, letting the dress fall from her hands to the floor. Her white lace French-cut panties accentuate her trim thighs and slender legs as she steps out of her heels. Her rose-colored nipples are pointing out, begging for attention as I reach for them.

She stops me and says, "I need to freshen up."

The proverbial air is let out of the balloon as I stand there and think to myself, 'Now?'

Katie walks past me, into the master bath, and closes the door. For a minute, I'm dumbfounded until I remember seeing her pantied covered ass as she went by. Recalling how she said she ran when she gets the chance, I now 'see' the high, taut ass that any man would get on his knees and worship. Shaking the cobwebs, I hustle down to the main bath where I quickly freshen up as well.

Walking back into the bedroom, wrapped in a towel, I see Katie is already in bed, sitting up against the headboard, and under the covers. Her hair is now down from it's usual pinned arrangement, and soft curls lay on her shoulders.

"Smart man," she dryly says, "now I can enjoy all of your body as well."

The 'as well' let's me know she wants me to 'enjoy' all of hers, and I have every intention of NOT letting her down.

Dropping the towel and climbing under the covers, I'm welcomed with an, "Mmmm, nice. This is going to be fun."

I'm barely in the bed when Katie rolls over and aggressively 'attacks' me, laying her body on me as her lips passionately meet mine. Our tongues dance against one another, and in each other's mouth, as I feel her warm breasts pressed into my chest, and the heat radiating from her center over my now stiffening cock. She begins to slowly, but firmly, slide her pelvis up and down the cock pressed against our pubic areas. While she doesn't feel as if she's completely shaved, I do feel a lot of smooth skin. I can also feel her wetness making both our bodies more slippery with each torturingly hot pass up and back.

Raising up on the palms of her hands I note the rapid coolness on my chest where her breasts once were, but our pelvises are still warmly mashed together. Katie, a little more strongly and urgently, is still rubbing our bodies uninterruptedly, with the strokes getting noticeably and pleasurably longer.

Her eyes squeezed tightly shut, I detect a bit of perspiration forming just above her top lip, and a light sheen on the area above her breasts, which are enticingly moving back at forth with her actions as her hair dances around her face. I lift my head and begin lightly kissing at the top of her cleavage, before running my lips and tongue down between her breasts and over to her nipples. Just as I take one in my mouth and alternately suckle and nibble, Katie slides up just enough to where my cock pops free of it's pleasurable captivity, and stops at her opening.

Katie, however, doesn't stop her motions, and I feel her warm wetness envelop the head as she slides back down. The "mmmmm" I moan into her areola is met simultaneously with her "ahhhhh," as she progressively impales herself completely with my rod, her head thrown back as she seems to be drowning in pleasure.

Raising up further, depriving me of her succulent orbs, Katie places her hands on my chest as she alternately rises and falls, then slides back and forth, with an occasional rotation of her hips. The feeling is incredible, and at this point I'm thanking the wine for taking just enough of the edge off so that I'm not already coming.