Gross! No! But Okay…

"Gross! No way! Please don't make me do it."

"You know we're thin on the ground for staff, Millie. Main crew's covering the crisis, I need you. Look, I tell you what, do this for me & your next assignment is yours to choose."

Millie sighed. "Hmph. Okay."

"It's one afternoon, two hours & you're out of there," her editor said. "I'll talk to you about the exact directions later."

"Great," Millie said dejectedly, walking back to her desk. She had just been handed an assignment for a recent story revolving around some pervert on social media gaining a lot of attention - & controversy - for his womanising. Her editor wanted him portrayed in an unflattering light to capitalise on the current trend of female empowerment running hot in the media. Millie was vaguely aware of talk of this guy, she couldn't recall his name off-hand, but she knew he was a creep. Hopefully he could trip himself up & it would be short work.

Millicent was almost a year into her career in journalism, & she was still finding her feet with interviews. Still only 21, she had been told she was not hard enough on her subjects - she was mild-mannered by nature - but at least this would be an opportunity to work on that. She spent the next two nights practising how the interview would go with her boyfriend, Michael. Then Friday came, & the job was at hand.

She found herself knocking on the door of an apartment building in an upscale seaside neighbourhood. Her subject answered the door. "You must be Millicent. Come on in." Millie had done her research & knew what Mark looked like, but he was big in person. He was tall, maybe 6'4", & muscular but in a lean sort of way. His distinctly deep voice & confident gait intimidated her a little, as did his age (his social media accounts didn't mention his age, but she guessed about 30), but she pushed the doubts out of her head.

"Take a seat," Mark gestured at a sofa in the living room. Millie was just gathering her questions in order within her head when they were interrupted by a woman who walked into the room.

"This is V, my room-mate. You on your way out, V?"

"Hi," she smiled at Millie, who waved back silently. "I'm Veronica. Don't mind me, I'm just leaving. She paused to regard Millie a moment. "That's beautiful hair," Veronica said, walking up & stroking Millie's blonde cascade. Although uncomfortable with the stranger's intrusion in her comfort zone, she didn't resist. "Um, thanks," she said, a little shyly. "Nice eyes." Veronica had lovely light blue eyes, despite her darkish features. Millie figured she was maybe a couple of years older than she was, but definitely younger than Mark. Veronica turned her gaze to her room-mate. "I need the place tomorrow, remember? I've got plans with Rachel & Luke. You'll be out, right?"

"All night," Mark replied. "I'm at Jennifer's." With that, Veronica excused herself, & Millie & Mark settled down to their interview.

"Hey, I'm just gonna grab something to drink. You want anything? Coffee?"

"Just a juice, if you have one, thanks," she replied. He disappeared for what seemed like a long time, but it gave Millie a chance to dim her nerves. He returned with a tall juice glass he handed her. Millie took a sip & narrowed her focus.

"So, don't take this the wrong way, but a lot of feminist groups & just women in general are pretty upset by your social media. The way you flaunt women you sleep with."

"Do they? Hm. Hm," he paused, looking downward thoughtfully. "What do you think?" Mark asked.

It was poor form for a journalist to let their subjects start asking them questions, Millie had been told that often enough. The journalist wasn't the one being interviewed - but if it put him onside, she was willing to comply, for now.

"Well. I mean it's not really for me to judge, I'm only here to report." She took another sip of her juice. It was nice, something a little different about it.

"Sure," he said gently. "I understand it looks a little flashy, but I'm really just having fun. That's okay, isn't it?"

"Of course it's okay," Millie said, "but I've seen some crude photos. Women asleep, with hashtags like, '#freshsluts' you have to concede, is really demeaning."

"Well you know, it's just guy talk. I get women don't like it," - Millie drank again from the juice - "but I'm just doing a little grandstanding for my mates. You know, I haven't had one girl I've slept with complain about how they're portrayed. Doesn't that make it okay?"

"Okay." The word rang through Millicent's head a moment after he said it. "It's okay, if you're telling the truth. I mean, no. It's not okay, even if maybe it's not as bad as I first thought."

Mark then started on a long monologue about various aspects of his life. He started out about how he respected women as a guy who grew up with three sisters, & this & that. It was a little hard to follow after a while. She drank some more juice & placed the glass back down, but found herself reaching for it again. She got a little lost with what he was saying but caught the end of it.

"Is that okay?" Mark asked.

"That's okay, I guess," Millie answered a little absently, "As long as you're respecting women."

Mark talked some more. Millie had been taking notes, but she was losing track of his points & starting to neglect her pad & pen for the juice. God, it was pleasant. What was in it? Something sweet. It made her feel sweet.

"Is that okay?" Mark asked. Millie hadn't caught what he was referring to.

"What?" She made a conscious effort to sharpen her focus.

"I was complimenting you on your freckles. Is that okay?" Millicent suddenly recalled the light, very faint smattering of freckles that dotted her cheeks. She wasn't especially fond of them. It was nice of Mark to compliment her. She blinked. She hadn't noticed, but somewhere along the way Mark had moved nearer & was holding her hand in his palm. Confused, she was about to point it out when he asked why he hadn't yet tasted her freckles.

"Is that okay?" he said, his voice lower now, deeper.

Millie didn't immediately answer. She was busy trying to work out how Mark had come to be holding her hand, so it was just easier to dismiss his question. "That's okay," she said, a little weary now. & then, as she was still looking dumbly at their hands intertwined, she felt his lips close slowly, heavily over her cheek, & the tip of his tongue drag across her skin.

Somewhere dimly in the recesses of her mind, Millie knew what was happening was odd...what was the word...unprofessional...but it was okay so long as he was being respectful. She placed a hand on his chest, gently pushing him away slightly, as she tried to remember her next question. He raised the juice to her lips & she dutifully finished it. It was really nice of him to help her finish it like that. Gentlemanly.

"Hm?" she asked vaguely. He had asked her something new, but her mind couldn't quite grasp it. "Oh, sure. It's okay as long as you're respectful of women." She felt her shirt being unbuttoned, then hands at her back. She felt her bra unhook & that was okay, too, so long as it was respectful.

"Millicent," Mark said soothingly. Millie blushed slightly. Hearing a man say her full name had a strange impact on her, it was hard to place. She felt small, like she was a child again or something, listening to the voice of authority. It was okay for him to call her that.

& it was okay when Mark kissed her nipples as her shirt fell away, because he was respectful to women. Millie knew some girls wouldn't approve of Mark having his own shirt off now, or standing up to unbuckle his pants, but it was okay because he was so respectful about it. & he was such a gentleman when he picked up her buzzing phone & told her it was someone called Michael. & when she told him who Michael was, it was sweet of him to let her know she didn't need anyone named Michael. & Millie knew that as she followed his gentle instruction - no, helpful suggestion - to fall to her knees, that some girls would object to her kissing his head, & taking his thickening member into her mouth, but that was okay, too. He was so kind to be cupping her breasts & lightly pinching her nipples as he coached her through her obligation. & she was grateful to have him dribble his nuts across her face as he respectfully stood over her, thrumming his beautiful cock & sweetly telling her what a good girl she was.

He was a little rough with her when he thrust his meat abruptly back down into the depths of her throat, but that was okay. & even when she couldn't breathe, she was flattered by how thoughtful Mark was to cup her chin & hold her head restfully against his thigh as he exploded along her tongue, pulled out & massaged her face with his heavy, wet member. Why couldn't more guys be like this!?

"You're so sweet to me," Millie said shyly, looking up in throngs of gratitude. "Please let me stay with you."

Even though she was sad to be leaving, it was okay that Mark had laughed at her request & pushed her out the door, because he was respectful of her. & it was okay when she returned home to Michael, her face a stained mess of cum, running make-up & drool. He was upset about something & did a lot of yelling, & maybe some crying - it was hard to remember - but that was okay. & as Millie lay her head down on the pillow alone that night, she wondered in a dreamy haze when her prince charming might call, when she could see him again.

Everything was going to be okay...