Corax and Grum Pt. 01

With that thinking, he decided to tell his companion what he had not spoken of to anyone in years.

"There's no family. There's no wife," he sipped his drink, steeling himself for the uncomfortable task to follow. "At least, no wife now. It's a bit of a story."

Corax did the head tilt and leaned forward in genuine interest. "I have time I can afford, and it seems as if you need to tell the tale. Please continue. I shall be a patient listener."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

I met Kristen at work about twenty years ago. I was living halfway across the country, and was a staff microbiologist in another sterilization company, where I was focused on lab work and reporting test results to clients.

During my performance review, the head of operations promoted me out of the lab and into the facility operations as a shift manager. With it came a bump in pay and more responsibility. I gladly accepted. The plant was doing well, and our business was expanding, so one of my first orders of business was to work with my boss, the plant supervisor, on an expansion of the facility. I was single and, while dating occasionally, I was very career-centered, so serious relationships for me were just not happening.

The first project I stepped into was that the company needed to add new sterilization chambers into the facility and hire more staff to handle the workload. The sterilization process by itself is very dangerous, as the ethylene oxide gas is both highly toxic and explosive, so getting a new facility built is a nightmare in permits, bureaucracy and safety inspections.

Well, in time and with a lot of effort, we got the facility built and hired new staff. One of the new employees was a young engineer named Kristen Erszacky. She was medium height, with fine features and a slim, athletic build. Nothing too big or small, just everything in its place. I found her very attractive without her being "model material".

She was hired to work directly on the floor, monitoring the process, which was mostly moving client's products into the chambers, running the particular sterilization recipe for that client, monitoring the cycle, cleaning the gas off the product and removing the product to ship it to the customer.

Being a woman in any engineering team is an invitation to attention. STEM jobs are male dominated and women, while not as rare as hen's teeth, were a rare enough commodity.

On top of being attractive, she was a solid engineer. With three years of industrial processing experience before joining us, she already developed the confidence in her abilities and general industry intelligence, which is lacking in many fresh graduates. This means that she wasn't easily intimidated by men posturing. She could tell them where to shove it. I loved that about her.

She wasn't a direct report to me, but was in my budget line, so I watched her, while remaining hands-off in her career. But I couldn't help but look at times.

About three months into her job, she was on the floor while overseeing a washing procedure. The washing process removes the residual gas from the chamber by pumping the gas out, and then refilling the chamber with air or some inert gas like nitrogen. This occurs several times, with each successive wash reducing the amount of poison inside. Of course, the waste gas has to be vented to the atmosphere. To avoid killing all of the neighbors, which would be bad for business, we heat the waste gas before it leaves, using a system called an oxidizer. Simply put, near the exhaust chimney, the gas passes low flames, causing the trace amounts of explosive gas in the exhaust to safely convert into non-toxic gases like carbon dioxide which we can safely vent to the air outside.

Normally, it's safe since the concentration of the gas was below explosive levels. But on this day, something went wrong.

The night shift had replaced sensors in one of the chambers and signed off on putting the equipment back in service. Kristen and another engineer were on the floor observing the unit for functionality with product inside. The replacement sensor had a faulty ground wire which shorted out after the qualification run. In short, Kristen and her companion had a far higher concentration of gas in the chamber than they thought, and if they ran a wash, they would be sending it to the oxidizer. They were ground zero next to a bomb which could destroy half the facility. If the explosion spread to the ethylene oxide supplies, the whole building and a good part of the neighborhood could go with it.

In the aftermath, we discovered that the engineer with Kristen, Ken Foley, who should've been mentoring her, was flirting with her as they were doing their work. The idiocy here is that both were suited up in full chemical-proof coveralls with facemasks and respirators. There are no street clothes or anything allowed on the chamber room, so it's like flirting with someone in full body armor - there's nothing to see. What's even the point? Save it for office time.

But it was enough to distract both of them that they missed the trigger from the faulty sensor. Ken's lack of professionalism would cause a major industrial accident.

By sheer luck, I was in the control room, which is a shielded booth overlooking the chamber area. The CR has a much more detailed data stream than what the engineers see on the floor, since we have information on all of the chambers, not just the one which Kristen and Ken were running. I caught the offline sensor in their chamber, and right as Ken went to run the first wash, I dove for the override and locked the system before the gas could vent.

I gasped, being the only one at the moment who realized how close to real death and destruction we all were. It was all I could do to not piss myself on the spot.

Ken keyed in the cycle again, but was locked out. He retried the system again, but he was locked out at that point. As calmly as I could, I got on the chamber room PA from the control room and told the two of them to leave the floor and get up to the CR for a debrief.

Once they de-gowned and met me, I met them both into a conference room and replayed the event, my hands were shaking the whole time. They immediately realized how close they came to blowing up half the plant and killing themselves to boot. I had already gone through my panic moment in the CR and the adrenaline was finally leaving me. I watch in real time as Ken and Kristen relived the moment in what would've been an ignominious death, because Ken couldn't keep it in his pants.

Once they caught their breath, Ken began apologizing profusely, to both Kristen and me. He got it. He was a good engineer and understood that the slightest lapse at the wrong moment in that job could be the last one he would ever make.

I gave them both the rest of the day off to think about it, as I didn't want two overly stressed people around to make more mistakes. But at the same time, I knew both would learn from this and become better engineers. A costly lesson for sure, though and one I never wanted to repeat again.

And that was the last I thought about it until almost six months later.

The annual Christmas party was held at a local hotel, and was a suitably big event to mark the end of an eventful year. The company rented rooms for several of us, so we wouldn't have to drive home. Post party, a number of my group went into town and hit some of bars and pubs, because why not?

Kristen cornered me at one point with shots, and began thanking me for saving her life. I really hadn't thought that much about it. I was honest and told her I was unhappy about the incident, but noted that both her and Ken had become very reliable members of the team and I expected good things from them in the future.

One shot led to several and soon she and I were talking at a private table away from colleagues. I asked her about Ken, asking her if he was successful in chasing after her. She grinned and said he was charming but she didn't date co-workers.

Two hours later, I rolled off of her in my king-sized bed in my hotel room, sweating and trying to catch my breath. She had a thin sheen of sweat on her, and a pleasured smile on her plump lips. She rose from the bed, her lean form was delightful, her toned ass swaying. She returned with a damp wash cloth and gently cleaned my limp cock and balls.

Her efforts began paying results when I had to ask "I thought you didn't go with co-workers?"

"I didn't say that," she smirked, lowering her lips to my hardening cock. Her tongue swirled around the head as she gently tugged on my balls. Opening wider, she easily took half of me into her warm, sucking mouth. I groaned before she bottomed out, with her nose against my stomach. She reversed course and slid her mouth off, and I was fully hard again. Her thumb rubbed small circles at the base of my cock head, alerting my prostate that the next batch of swimmers would be needed momentarily.

I watched as she rose to straddle me, rubbing my little head against her gooey slit.

"I said I don't date co-workers.". She easily slid me in to her boiling velvet, and sighed while gliding down until her lower lips kissed my balls. "I have been known to fuck them on occasion, though."

Her hips moved in a tight orbit, centered around the base of my cock. She ground her clit against me working towards her own orgasm. Her muscular control was exceptional, and I really enjoyed it as we worked together. She wasn't tight by any means, but she more than made up for it with effort. By morning, she had wrung another two loads out of me, and I was grateful for my own Christmas bonus. Needless to say, we didn't have to say it was a one-time thing; she had more than paid me back for whatever score she was keeping about the incident with her and Ken.

Except it wasn't over.

The first Friday night of the new year, I answered the door buzzer at nine p.m. to find Kristen. I could smell some booze on her, but she wasn't loaded. I was more than a bit surprised; the boldness of the move to show up at my door, uninvited. She smirked, walking into my apartment, saying she knew I was married to my job, so that she could find me at home. While that was true, I also reminded her that this could be seen as "dating" and how I'd have hated for her to go back on her word.

She stepped up right to my face, her index finger starting at my sternum and tracing up my chest.

"I really enjoyed our Christmas party, and was hoping to relive some very pleasant memories," she whispered. Her hand had reached my neck and curled around the back my head, pulling me into her open lips. They were very pleasant memories, indeed.

By March, we had an irregular FWB relationship going, and while we kept it purely platonic at the office, about twice a month, I was making regular deposits in the Bank of Kristen. We kept it discreet, and as far as I knew, there was no knowledge in the office about us. She never said if she was sleeping with anyone else, and I never asked. I made a decision to trust her, based on the professionalism she showed at work.

That would eventually be the mistake that doomed us.

Ken left the company nine months later, and Kristen was promoted to fill the vacated senior engineering role. Kristen was right in that I was heavily invested in the company, and not being more serious than once or twice a month was not a huge thing for me, since I always had the company to take up time which would've been spent in a relationship.

Still, I found myself growing accustomed to her visits, her bottomless throat and her athletic approach to draining my balls. Repeatedly.

As usual, she took initiative and told me she'd like to break her vow and begin dating me, exclusively and publicly. I cleared this with HR in the company and she was removed from my reporting authority. This was difficult for us because I had all the engineering heads as my direct reports, so there were only so many places she could move within the company.

Not long after that decision, and with the restraints on our relationship removed, she had inspired me to seriously pursue her. Privately, she rang all my bells. She ignited my romantic passions for her, we went on trips, I bought her gifts. She wanted for nothing. In return, I was treated to her wild uninhibited sex, all I could handle. She was open to anything, except anal. She said she had done it before, but unless it was something I was really into, she would prefer not to do it. I told her my own experiences with it were so-so, and this wasn't a deal breaker for me. She more than made up for it.

Professionally, Kristen accepted a move into marketing and sales, which was a new area for her, and out from under me. She had a good mentor though, who brought her along slowly, and used her smarts, experience and good looks to bowl over customers. She was a real triple threat, and she took to it well. She grew from a supporting role to being dragged out to clients for lunch, dinner and a few tradeshows. Each time, she came back to me ravenous, fucking me nearly raw. I may have even limped to work once or twice.

Almost eighteen months after the near accident, I placed a big sparkly onto her hitching finger and she agreed to marry me.

Wedded bliss was exactly that for the first few years. I stewarded the company through the initial expansion and then into a second one. Profits rose steadily, and I received what I through was fair recognition for my efforts in terms of stock and bonuses.

Kristen's career also took off and was soon targeted for recruitment by larger companies. We had a discussion about it and I gave her free reign over her career choices. She chose to leave and join a multinational conglomerate. There were so many late nights and long weekends where we barely saw each other, like ships passing in the night. But it was worth it when we connected.

We had no kids yet, but she had just passed thirty, she began making noises about get some returns on the deposits I was making in her slick cunt, so she went off the pill and we tried in earnest.

Alexa came along two years later. With a nanny in place, Kristen returned to work after her leave and continued her climb. Her trim body snapped back quickly, as if she never lost a step. I adored my little baby girl. I spent every night I could with her in my arms. I actually enjoyed changing her diapers and getting up for her feedings.

Kris breast fed for a while, bringing her up a half cup size to a full C, and I greatly enjoyed when she brought milk play into the bedroom. She still knew how to turn me on.

We were both making good money, and had settled into some of the trappings of that wealth, like a luxury suburban home, nice cars and anything else Kris needed or wanted. I continued to spoil her, giving her anything.

After over seven years together, Kristen led me into the ballroom of the luxury hotel where her company was holding its Christmas party. She was wearing a green clingy wrap dress which ended a few inches above her knee. I knew she had nothing underneath except a lacy garter belt holding up the silk stockings. Her tall pumps only emphasized the long athletic legs she has still kept. The room was buzzing with her colleagues. Everything was top shelf.

After about ten minutes, I heard a familiar voice.

"Hey Brian, funny running into you here!"

I turned and Ken stood in front of me, looking very sharp in a dark suit tailored around his athletic physique. This was a surprise, indeed. I turned to Kristen but she was already reaching out to give him a hug. Once that was done, he extended a hand to me, with a firm grip.

"This is a surprise," voicing my thoughts aloud. "You're working here?"

"Yeah," he noted. I turned again to Kristen, her elegant features not betraying anything. "I joined early in the year. I'm heading up one of the engineering groups, working on oxidizer research."

"Oh, that's great. Kristen didn't tell me you were here."

"Well, we don't work together and she's not in engineering any more. Or so I hear," he grinned at her. Still a slick bastard, I thought.

Kris flashed a smile at me in an 'Oops!', but said nothing else about it.

"Let's get some drinks," Ken said, steering us towards the bar. My antennas were up about this.

I played the dutiful spouse, while enough colleagues to fill a small phone book came to Kris to congratulate her on her latest campaign. I had met many of them at past parties, but Kris's recent successes made her more visible within the company, and this was clearly her night to shine. I took it all in stride, as the hours away from home had paid off and she was poised to really take off.

Ken drifted in an out of the groups around us, checking in with me to catch up occasionally. Apparently, he had been at a few chemical companies in the area before joining this company. He tried picking my brain a bit to get more information about how we were using oxidizer beds in various new designs we were working with. I wasn't about to give him too much insight into some of the designs we were working on.

We sat at a table for dinner, and Kris was really in her own. Not only was she the buzz of our table, several people stopped by to say hi and try to get her talk with them afterwards. She told me that she was a bit surprised by all of the attention. I reassured her that I was proud.

After dinner, when the live swing band started, the calls for Kris's time, both on the dance floor and in side discussions about new projects, was really something. She was pulled away from me a few times, giving me looks like 'Sorry, what can I do?', but I just waved and let her go.

Ken continued to flit about, pulling various women onto the dance floor, where he moved confidently. Kris would return and be pulled away again, sighing. At one point, she insisted that she be left to spend a few moments with her husband. The requester shied away, apologetic.

"Sorry, honey," she said above the noise of the band. "I really didn't quite expect this, but at the same time, it's nice to be recognized."

"Don't worry, love. Alexa and I are proud of you." I gave her a gentle kiss on the cheek. She smelled of booze and sweat.

"I'll make it up to you upstairs, later on," she grinned, promising a night of heaven between her legs. She was promptly pulled away again, and I sighed, making my way to the bar. I had stopped the booze after only a few, as I didn't want to be out of control, and I want to be able to perform. I was ten years older than Kris, so if I wanted to keep up with her Olympian sex drive, I needed to plan ahead.

For about twenty minutes, I lost track of her, but found myself engaged in a conversation with the head of microbiology, who I knew through several professional organizations. He and I caught up more socially, as we both were of the opinion that shop talk is better left for working hours. We were making plans to meet for a drink, when Kris slid in next to me, a bit out of breath.

"Ah there you are," she said, giving me a hug from behind. "I'm tired of the bullshit. Care to make baby number two upstairs?"

"It looks like our reunion will have to wait," my colleague said. Laughing, I bid my colleague a Merry Christmas and made plans to connect in the new year.

In the elevator up to our room, Kris was all over me. I smelled cigarette smoke and something else under it, in addition to the booze and sweat. I filed that away. But true to her word, Kris refused to let me rest until I had emptied my balls into her dripping snatch three times, with a leisurely fourth before breakfast. Kris was very persuasive.

In February, she announced she was expecting and by early September, our son, Henley, was born. Again, Kris snapped back into fighting shape and by Christmas, and she was exactly the same size as the previous year. I know because she told me she was wearing the same dress as last year, this time, in fire engine red. She was stunning. She had her nails done up with long spaded manicure and a matching pedi done in the same color to match her dress, and wore rubies on her ears and wrist, accentuating the outfit. A pair of four-inch fuck-me pumps completed the outfit, and I felt a bit intimidated next to her raw sexuality. What was different this year was there was no stocking at all, nor were there any panties, which she made sure to emphasize, as she flashed me her shaved pussy on the ride over. This was going to be an interesting night.