IaW Ch. 05: A Hard Day at the Office

"Your people walk a very fuzzy line, don't they?"

"We've put hundreds of millions of dollars into the hands of women who've borne the brunt, but..." Gin stopped mid-stride, her shoulders slumping.

"But?"

"There are parts of human nature that simply can't evolve as fast as... I don't know. As fast as the demands we make. As long as there's consent, there needs to be provisos that let some offices work..."

"The way yours does?"

"I'm a terrible example! I mean, I could be the patron saint of consent, but that still screws with the whole hierarchy thing..."

"Your kink does kinda skew the stats." I got where she was coming from and it sorta turned me on to hear her say it, but even that was untouchable. "The whole professional environments tangle? We're not going to sort that out until society at large is more judgmental about protecting personal agency."

"And less judgmental about sluts," Ginny added.

Which was absolute truth - but that she'd said it, right then, right there...? The association proved the point, I guess, and we both knew it.

She bit her lip, looking up at me with big eyes.

I leaned down and gave her the kiss she was hoping for.

It was a dark part of the block, between the splash of the street lights, so I gave it a little extra time. I reached under her skirt, grabbed two handfuls of bare ass and pulled her against me.

She reached between us, immediately grabbing my hardening dick. "We need to find someplace dark!"

"Okay!"

She took off and I was just a step behind her.

That's when it hit me: "Does your office know, um, about..."

"What?"

"Numbers Five and Six?"

She didn't stop running. "I'm sure they do. Not like I was the doctor's 'other woman,' all that happened long before he was a client, but TMZ published pictures of us at Chateau Marmont."

"And they'd see that?"

"Are you kidding? Scrapers!"

"What's a scraper?"

"It's a service that checks different networks: twitter, facebook, news sites. Key words, flags, hashtags; that kind of thing."

"Huh. Okay, that makes sense. What about the judge?"

"Technically, it's a no-no for clients to hit on me: that's part of the 'Ginny Test.' Now there is some version of attorney-client privilege, but it's still an ethics breach if the attorneys were, um, 'social'. Me, on the other hand? They've never limited whether I can contact the clients outside the office."

Maybe it's just because I was exhausted, but this running conversation had me winded. "That... doesn't really... answer the question."

"No, counsel, it doesn't." Gin stopped to let traffic pass. "I had to tell them the judge passed me his card. That's part of how the test works. When he heard, though, Morty went out of his way to 'not discourage' me."

"No shit?"

"A judge," she nodded. "I never actually told them I called him. I'm pretty sure they'd want to play dumb anyway. If the judge told them anything, they haven't let on. Then again..."

"What?"

"That last day, before we left on the road trip?"

Oh, right: "The day you gave him a hand job while wearing your engagement ring?"

"Yeah," she guilty-giggled. "After everything else, that was the first time he called me a slut. I don't know if that was just from the ring, or if he knows about the judge and... probably the doctor."

"Didn't you say you got off on that? Your boss calling you a slut?"

Ginny gave me a deep nod - and took off. I chased behind, and caught up, but I wasn't sure what to do when running at full gallop.

She led us another block to a deep dark patch in the neighborhood. No lights at this corner - and she was grinning.

"Oh, shit..."

She glanced over her shoulder. "Right?"

It was an apartment building that stopped construction mid-way through. There was a chain-link fence surrounding the place, but it wasn't real secure.

Ginny jiggled the chain on the door but it didn't budge.

I knew these fences: a little leverage and the door popped open.

She was wide-eyed as she navigated the dark, picking her way over the mounds of weed-covered dirt and into the half-done cinderblock building. She led me halfway up a bare-bones staircase, then pulled off her sports bra and dropped to her knees.

A second later, my dick was in her mouth and her eyes were closed, laying the love on my pipe.

After thirty seconds, I was ultra-hard and already on my way to declaring victory in a quickie.

She stood up and grabbed my wet shaft. "I need you inside me!"

I spun her around, lifted that skirt, and slid my dick between those wet lips.

She groaned - we both groaned - as I pushed it into her.

Another thirty seconds of rhythm, I'd caught up to my previous spot. I was close to the O-cliff.

She jammed her ass against me. "Wait!"

"What?!"

"Remember that thing we did?"

"Which thing?"

"With your thumb?" -I almost came just standing there- "I need that... but I need the real thing this time!"

I glanced at Dat Ass®. "You want-"

"Please, Rick! Please fuck my ass! Pound it like it deserves!"

Holy shit. I pulled myself against her again and dipped my tip back in her pussy, getting it as wet as it could get...

A little lift and the tip rested against her rosebud...

It was flexing, I could feel it.

"Hang on," she squeaked. "Okay, now..."

I eased the tip into her ass. This wasn't something I was used to, but it was fucking hot. The more I pushed, the more I figured out she was trying to relax.

She was hyperventilating against the brick wall. "God, I'm going to start wearing butt plugs!"

"That would be... hot?"

"Right?" She nodded.

It took thirty seconds just to get halfway in, but the visuals - the whole circumstance was so unreal, I was surprised I didn't pop off.

We got a rhythm going - and she relaxed and relaxed and relaxed until I was power-fucking her ass.

Her legs were already shaking, her head down, her breathing ragged. At times, she'd jam her ass backward. At other times, she struggled to stand.

It wasn't my first time doing this, but she made me feel like it. At the rare moments I could think above the sensation, it struck me as so forbidden, maybe it was better than pussy. Other times, almost as good but awesomely taboo.

My hands were locked on her slender hips: the pounding was merciless.

Her legs gave out, her whole body convulsing.

For a moment, her whole weight was in my grip.

A heartbeat later, her hands braced herself against the wall.

My dick was buried brutally deep in her ass - and her whole body had gone from limp to rigid.

I didn't know anal orgasms were a thing, but her breath caught.

"That was..." A moment later, she recovered and looked over her shoulder. "Okay, my pussy needs one!"

"Wouldn't that be, um, dangerous...?"

"Please, Rick!"

"Fuck. Yes, ma'am!"

I pulled out of her ass, swirled the tip at her pussy and shoved in. Not five seconds later, she was shaking until she couldn't even brace herself.

"Holy shit..." I didn't stop, but I did ask: "Are you okay?"

Her face was scrunched and she wasn't breathing. "Keep... fucking!"

I kept fucking until she came back to earth.

"Switch!"

I popped out and slid back into her ass. She was still dilated and it slid in smooth.

"Fuck!" she squeaked.

Another orgasm.

"Switch!"

I switched again, and going back and forth on this woman... was the hottest fucking thing I'd ever done on earth.

She was coming again. Maybe she'd never stopped coming.

Didn't matter. As of this second, didn't care. I was coming. My balls tightened and my first blast went deep inside her tainted pussy. Another thrust, a reload, my second blast unleashed even deeper in that pussy.

And I knew what I had to do.

I pulled out and shoved my cock deep into her ass. The balls agreed, holding off just long enough to make sure I shot my load as deep inside her as it could go.

All the rest of my cum - and there was a lot of it - was left deep in the back.

When I was finally empty, and it felt like her legs were stable, I let go of her hips.

She staggered a bit, almost falling down, her legs shaking. She turned, grabbed my face and kissed me deep. "Thank you. I needed that!"

###

Thursday morning, I was on the lot before dawn.

Wasn't the first in the office, but I was the first to turn the rest of the lights on.

The Line Producer stared wide-eyed as I bounced around, jaunty as fuck.

George Carlin's song was in my head and it took all that I had to not sing aloud: Taa-Raa-Raa BOOM-de-yay! Did you get yours today? I got mine yesterday, that's why I walk this way!

The smell of coffee wafted over my shoulder and the voice was like broken asphalt: "Did you fuck a bag of cocaine this morning?"

I shook my head, calling out as I headed into the next room. "You're half right!"

"Bastard."

I didn't know I could do an "evil laugh" that good.

The post-Ginny glow lasted through the afternoon, despite dealing with breakdowns happening in Eastern Standard Time.

Gin and I were touching base all day, starting around lunch and carrying through early evening. Most of that was because I'd hired a squad of PAs and a cube truck for a "personal production" - helping Gin move the heavy stuff from her place to mine.

Despite one "cheaty" fiancée and four "movers" hired by her future voyeur husband - the plot of a cheap porno if there ever was one - nothing happened except moving furniture.

I suppose that's a good thing? My head said that's smart by all parties involved (or not involved, in this case). My nuts thought that was a tragically wasted opportunity.

Got home by eight that night, just as exhausted as I was on Wednesday. My brain was in a dozen different places at once, but... actually walking in to the duplex was something else.

From the back door, towards the garage, you enter the laundry room. Not much different there, but there were a few additions, like hamper bags and Gin's detergents and all that. Out the laundry door, there was the downstairs half-bath to the left, opening to the kitchen eating area on the right (sort of the informal dining room).

I didn't have an eating area table, originally, but there was one there now in white wrought iron: Ginny's. Completing the set were four chairs, a glass top, a flower in the middle... and I'm pretty sure we were now qualified to host for AirBnB.

On the left, the breakfast bar. On the right, the rest of the kitchen. Not much difference there, though Gin had expressed a mild crush on the blue Mexican tile work.

The entry foyer was in that right front-side corner and Gin's throw rug was there.

Wrapping around the breakfast bar, it opened into the wooden floors of a combined formal dining room - living room space. With the little eating area in the kitchen, we didn't need formal dining, so it turned into a massive living/rec room, which now boasted Ginny's massive sectional couch.

Upon it was the goddess herself, in cut-off sweats and a thin t-shirt, on her back and breathing peacefully. The couch itself looked great, but it looked like a commercial with the girl spread across the top (and enough for four other people comfortably... which gave me ideas).

Aramis (the cat) wrapped himself around my ankles and I picked him up. Rewarded with immediate purr, my guess was he'd taught the tribbles all they knew.

Between the sectional, other chairs and end tables and stuff all over, my once-empty place now looked downright civilized. Even stylish. The downside was that we no longer had the wide-open empty space fit for a dance studio. That had been particularly interesting with Ginny over the last few days.

I laid down on the sectional, matching head-to-head with Ginny.

As I closed my eyes, cat still on my chest, I felt a tender caress across my cheek.

"Welcome home," she said.

I didn't bother opening my eyes. "Stuff looks great."

She laid a gentle kiss on my lips. "Didn't hear you come in."

"14 hours sucked the noise out of me."

"Passing on a run tonight?"

"Fuck."

"Guess not."

Five minutes later, we were out the door. Like a bladerunner chasing a replicant, I was ragged as shit in a ratty t-shirt, a perpetual step behind the girl who was a little too perfect in her spandex short-shorts and sports bra.

I felt the exhaustion in my lungs. "How was the move?"

"The guys were helpful. Took direction well. Very careful."

"Cool. If they were okay, I'll short-list them for more gigs."

She nodded.

"Did the office mind losing you for half a day?"

"If they did, they didn't say anything. Especially since there was another wife-visit."

"Boys still walking on eggshells?"

"It's almost funny but the almost-assault charges rattled them."

"Yeah. As it should." We stopped for traffic, technically, but I didn't mind the moment to breathe. "Wife relations still okay or are they edging toward jealous with the office eye-candy?"

"It was Morty's wife, and she wasn't there to see him."

"Uh oh."

Gin nodded. "That diner we went to, our first-and-a-half date? Addy and I had lunch together. I actually left from the diner to coordinate the move."

"Lunch with the Ice Queen? Wow. How'd that work out?"

She was lost for a moment, silent in her stride before she finally glanced over at me. "Weird. Really weird."

"Turns out she has a third eye?"

"No."

"Third nipple?"

"Yes! No." She air-plonked me from five feet away. "It was kind of a warning. Like, really cautionary."

"Quit messing with her sugar daddy?"

"Almost the opposite. Addy is punishing Morty for his bump-and-grind attack on the temp. It happened at the copy machine and I'm all-too-familiar with the tactic. It wasn't so much that he did it, he's an old lech and Addy's not the jealous type. She's pissed that he was so stupid about it."

"That's a bit... mercenary."

"Trophy wife. That kind of relationship is pretty much a business deal anyway."

"Oh, that's cold. Ice, ice cold."

"Addy's insight: the firm has enough dirt that there's no danger anyone was going to lose their license, yet, but the paper trail grows. Then there's the settlement itself: mostly covered by professional insurance, but a portion isn't. As for the insurance, now their rates go up. Not like it's going to break them, but it was still a dumb move."

'Well, yeah..." I gave a running shrug. "...Chalk that up with all the other dumb moves made by men who overestimate their charm."

Ginny gave a great, big affirming nod to that. There was something else, though...

"Okay, so what is it you're not saying?"

"Okay, so here's where it gets weird. Addy's not one to whip out a Nondisclosure Agreement, but she made me pinky promise secrecy."

"Pinky promise? Seriously?"

"Sworn to secrecy... but my secrecy is from Morty and the guys. She never specified you."

"Does she even know about me?"

Gin held up the big ring on her finger. "Oh, fuck yes, she does."

"Good?"

"Rick, I told her all about you, but she already knew... from Morty."

"No shit?" It was enough to throw me off balance, but it fell into place quick enough. "Um... I'm a threat to their office girl?"

Gin nodded and made a hard turn, heading away from traffic. Our sudden route change took us into a darker part of the residential neighborhood. "They haven't said anything but they probably ran a background check on you."

"I'm flattered. I'm also boring."

"Dear, you're anything but boring." We crossed the street, heading up the hill, and making us pull from deeper in the lungs. "So, two things... first, she's punishing Morty by withholding... but she doesn't want him wandering somewhere... more dangerous. That means the pressure on me is probably going to go... up."

"Oh! Ohhh..."

"Right? The guys are daring to look again... but they've all kept their hands in their pockets... There's good and bad to that."

"Yeah..." I was thinking out loud, but speaking between strides. This run was killing me. "That's kinda like... Dressing an exhibitionist... In duct tape..."

Ginny snorted, bursting into giggles. "Wouldn't have thought of that... in a million years... and now... I will never un-see it..."

We caught our breath at another corner, then turned again. She glanced behind, like she was checking for tails. That kinda made me glance, too, but I didn't see anybody.

New road: flat. Thank God.

Gin slowed down and dropped her voice as she went on. "The other thing: Addy said she could go on about stuff good and bad... but she's under a Non-Disclosure Agreement."

"Wasn't your temp under an NDA?"

"Technically, I'm under an NDA, but this felt like next-level stuff."

"So, weird stuff but she didn't specify?"

"Uh-huh."

Took all of about five seconds for more oxygen to finally reach my brain. "I think I know what it is: politicians, corporate honchos and mob guys... meets escorts and sex clubs."

Gin sighed. "Maybe...?"

"One of my old crushes was Seven of Nine: Jeri Ryan. Hot. Big sexy eyes like yours. She was married to Jack Ryan, Senate candidate, and he took her to sex clubs. Biiiiig public divorce, ends a political career..."

"OhMyGod, yah! I've heard that story!" Gin tapped her lips, thinking about it. "Yah, that makes a lotta sense, especially coming from the trophy wife... of a legal partner at a firm that knows all the secrets."

I glanced behind us. Not that I actually thought somebody might be following us, but it fit the mood at the moment. "If this were a John le Carré novel, you'd be targeted as a source inside the firm."

Gin's head snapped. "Rick, why do you think they did a background check on you?"

Okay, I admit I chuckled a little. "That would be chilling if I wasn't so boring."

She shook her head. "Well, you're handling it better than I did."

"I appreciate the heads-up, but, uh... Don't care. I'm kind of in a cold-war already."

"You are?"

"Studios work together every day... but in certain areas, won't hesitate to cut each other's throats. I'm a Production Manager at... a Major Studio. Guys my level are cannon fodder in corporate espionage. Also, I guarantee some of the honchos up my chain are in the same groups Addy was talking about."

Ginny stopped us, grabbed my shoulders and rested her forehead square in the middle of my chest. A moment later, she banged her head against my chest a few times before finally looking up. "Thank you... for being you."

I gave her a kiss and we started running again. I was navigating us back home and the conversation itself felt like it was completing a circle. "So, if I'm reading you right, Addy is saying that a little office hanky-panky is small-time and beware getting in too deep. Especially if you're getting married to a 'normal person'."

"Yah," Ginny sighed. "Addy's the one that told me about Morty's background check on you. It was the weirdest warning I could've imagined, but..."

"But it's kind of intrusive? Invasive? Stupid?"

"Scary." She reached through the dark to touch my arm. "Also, I don't know what the hell they were looking at, but you are definitely not a 'normal person'."

"Thanks?"

###

Friday morning, I was first in the production office. Eggy breakfast sandwiches and Cambros of dry-roasted go-juice were already in place before the rest of the office filtered in. End of the first week, people were already fraying at the seams, I figured breakfast would help them hold it together a little longer.

For a moment, just a moment, I felt a little of the surveillance we'd talked about last night. It was absolutely nothing, I'm sure, but for just a second, it felt somewhere between "Patriot Games" and "Enemy of the State." Or, in my case, "The Man with One Red Shoe." I can't even play a violin - though I'm passable with a kazoo.

Some things were coming apart, other things were finally coming together. I'd sent out teams to Georgia already, including a couple of production trucks. There were always loose ends, but -knock on wood- things were in a decent place.