tagErotic CouplingsWednesdays at the Venice Cafe Ch. 02

Wednesdays at the Venice Cafe Ch. 02


Chapter Two: Office Visit

What with one thing and another, Philip didn't get out of the house until late. He didn't really intend to run late, but he didn't make any special effort to get moving, either. It was after ten o'clock when he handed Uncle Bill the five dollar cover charge and made his way towards the bar. There was Kathleen, at her usual table. No sign of Kris except an empty wine glass. Philip pulled up a stool. Kathleen watched the band and ignored him until the song ended.

Then she turned to him and said "You asshole. You fucking asshole." She looked back toward the stage.

Philip raised one eyebrow and smiled sadly. "Not pleased? I thought you might be, ehh, titillated."

"You didn't ask me if you could bring a camera."

The band began playing something Philip didn't recognize. He leaned towards Kathleen to be heard over the music.

"I didn't ask you if I could anything. From the time I put the blindfold on you till the time I took it off you, I didn't ask your permission for anything. And you didn't object to anything."

"But I didn't know you were making a fucking porn video out of it!"

"'Fucking porn video' is redundant. And you didn't know what I was doing or going to do from one moment to the next. And you loved every bit of it, didn't you?" He leaned in even closer. "Even the video. Didn't you?"

Kathleen sat still a moment, then began to squirm slightly. "I would have told you 'no' if you'd asked."

"That's why I didn't ask. You said you didn't want to see yourself as a cheating slut, so I brought a blindfold. And now I've let you see what a cheating slut really looks like, and you think she looks sexy as hell."

Kathleen shifted on her stool again. "Okay, so I did like being able to see your cock. I didn't get to do that last week. But as soon as I loaded that disc and saw the vid I feel like you were blackmailing me! It's threatening!"

Philip shook his head. "I'm on that video, too, as clearly as you are."

"You could edit yourself out."

"Right. And I just gave you a copy of the whole, unedited thing. You could edit yourself out, too, probably easier than I could. Video editing software is a royal pain in the ass, as far as I've ever tried using it. But the point is, I gave you the video. I gave you the same leverage over me that I have over you. I'm trusting you not to use it. So you can trust me not to. "

Kathleen looked at Philip, really looked at him, for the first time tonight. "Yeah. Okay. I guess you did. But for fuck's sake, you do know how to encrypt a file, don't you? I don't want anybody stumbling across it by accident!"

"Eh, well, my disc is passworded, but I don't know about encryption."

"Yeah, I'm surprised you even have it passworded. The disc you gave me wasn't. I copied and encrypted the file and snapped the DVD in half before trashing it. I don't want my husband snooping around and finding it."

"Does he snoop? My wife doesn't. Or if she does, she's so good at it she's never left a clue. And never gotten mad about what she found. Which implies to me she's never found anything. Which implies she's never looked."

"He doesn't look at my work stuff. But who knows? I'm gonna have to teach you your shit when it comes to data security."

"That's what we have an IT department for."

"Very funny."

"Would you like a refill? I need to get myself a drink."

Kathleen handed him her own glass and Kris's empty. He stepped back to the bar, got a bourbon and water for himself, and a refill on the vodka tonic for Kathleen.

"Here you go." He set the drinks down, along with a couple of bar naps.

"Okay, I'm not completely and totally pissed at you any more. I'll tell the goons not to bust your kneecaps after all."

"Mighty sportin' of you. I hadn't thought about goons. I figured you were going to get me in a defenseless position and remove my balls with your teeth."

"That's Plan B."

"Hmmm. Well, I'm all for the defenseless position part, at any rate."

She looked sidelong at him. "You got another sleezebag motel lined up? Where the fuck were we, anyway?"

"Washington Park. No, I don't have a reservation this week, but I can't imagine they fill up on a Wednesday. Or we might try something different. You suggest something."

Kathleen drummed her fingers for a few seconds, then said "Look, I don't want to make this too complicated, but, well, how much do you know about security around my building?"

"What? Around your building?"

"Yeah. I have my swipe card with me. It'll get me into my office any time of day or night. In case I need to work late."

"Well, I know the system records whose card gets used at which doors and when."

"Right, I know all about the system. I want to know about cameras. I mean, since you're an expert on cameras and all."

"Too-shay, Toots. Cameras are at every building entrance, and some lobbies and corridors, but nothing on your floor. It wasn't part of the plans for the renovation, and unless somebody's come through and installed them since without telling me, you should be clean."

"Okay, the two of us seen going into a building isn't any big deal since it's my office and I've got clearance. I just didn't want to find out that somebody has a camera rigged up to watch what happens in my cubicle."

"Mostly they don't review the video unless something is reported. Recorded, saved, overwritten. And, um, what happens in your cubicle?"

Kathleen took hold of his sleeve and tugged. "You're gonna find out."

They walked down the block towards Philip's car. He hung back a step to watch her walk. She wore what he would have called a peasant blouse, lots of fabric managing to show lots of skin, a long broomstick skirt, and flats. He didn't suggest a blindfold for Kathleen this time, though he did have one in his pocket, just in case. They got in, and Philip drove. Once they were off the side streets, Philip put his right hand on Kathleen's thigh and petted it. The long, loose skirt in a green pattern slid easily over her skin. Touching her strengthened Philip's resolve. He'd had little problem last week, headed to a no-tell motel where no one could possibly know him. But now he was driving to work, essentially, and if the route was different the destination was the same. Hundreds of people knew him there, even if they were all at home now, parked in front of their televisions. And people did work late. And there were cleaning crews. He stroked Kathleen's thigh again, as if for luck.

He turned into the drive, then took the first left into the parking garage. Unlike Kathleen, his spot was on the lowest level. They saw four or five other cars scattered along the route. Force of habit navigated Philip to his assigned space. They got out of the car wordlessly. Their feet scuffing up the concrete stairs seemed to make far more noise than they should. Out on the sidewalk, Philip almost took Kathleen's arm before restraining himself. It wouldn't draw a second look in Soulard, but it might bring disaster here.

Kathleen led the way. She had her card out of her purse even before they got to the door. She swiped it, the light turned, green, and she pulled the door open. They hurried in and over to the stairs. Up two flights and down the hall. At the door to the main office Kathleen swiped again and they were in.

"Welcome to the cube farm." Except for the department head's private office and a conference room, the place was entirely ranks of cubicles, efficient steel frames covered in corporate gray fabric. Even the reception desk was a cubicle with low sides. A very few of the overhead lights were always on as a safety measure; Kathleen did not reach for the switches but took Philip's hand and lead him rapidly down the row to her eight foot by eight foot domain.

Inside the cubicle, she switched on the desk lamp then spun around to face him and threw her arms around his neck. She kissed him, a big and hard and sloppy, wet kiss. Her breasts pressed against his chest. He put his hands on her hips, kissing her back, moving his body slightly to some music he couldn't quite hear, and enjoying the feel of his body brushing against hers. Without stopping kissing, she put her right hand on his chest and let it wander until she could feel his left nipple through his shirt. Her own nipples hardened. Philip's hand was on her ass, circling and squeezing. Her breathing became ragged.

"I need this." She let go of him, bent to grab the hem of her skirt, and reached up and under to snag the waistband of her panties. She peeled them down, stepped out of them, and stuffed them in her purse. Then she hiked her skirt again and plopped herself down in her swivel chair, slumped, with her knees wide apart.

Philip knelt in front of her. He kissed the inside of each thigh once, then adjusted his posture to put his face right up tight to her pussy. He kissed her twice, then began licking gently. The chair rolled back against her desk and stopped there. Philip adjusted.

Kathleen tipped her head back. "Oh, yeah, that's what I missed. Oh. Mmmm. Oh, yeah." Philip was working from one side of her vulva to the other, not yet centering on her clit. She gripped the arms of the chair. "Ahhh, yes. Didn't we used to say 'Save a tree, eat a beaver' in high school? That's-- ah! Yeah, like that!" Philip had parted her lips and was now tongue stroking the inner labia. Kathleen hummed and purred and encouraged him, some part of her mind aware of how often she sat in this same chair and dreamed of being serviced. Her thoughts had her primed and ready; as soon as Philip moved upward and began licking her clit directly she gave a little squeal, and with his next stroke a louder one, and in half a dozen flicks of his tongue she was over the top, crying out in spasms of pleasure. Philip pressed his tongue flat against her clit and held it there firmly, not moving, until he could tell her breathing was evening out again. He stroked the insides of her thighs with both hands without moving his mouth away.

Kathleen loosened her grip on the arms of the chair and began running her fingers through Philip's hair. His thumbs massaged her outer lips for a bit, then he carefully pulled his mouth away, exposing her swollen clit to the air. He breathed on it, warm and gentle, and she whimpered. His fingers and the palms of his hands still on her inner thighs, his thumbs became more assertive in rubbing her labia. He had left her quite wet, and his thumbs slid between inner and outer lips, up and down, spreading and closing and kneading and spreading again. At the slightest pressure of Kathleen's hands against the back of his head, he leaned back in and applied his tongue to her clitoris again. Slow and steady pressure, rhythmically applied. His thumbs kept time with his tongue, rubbing now between her inner lips. After a dozen strokes, he pressed the backs of his thumbs together and began to press the pair into her vagina. With each passage of his tongue across her clit, his thumbs probed a fraction of an inch deeper. Kathleen was lost in the sensations. Finally Philip's thumbs were sliding in and out as deeply as they were able, and providing Kathleen even greater stimulation than his tongue did. She felt the pressure rising, and began muttering "Oh, yeah, oh, yeah, oh, yeah," in cadence with his probing. Something about the very act of vocalizing made her building excitement even more real, as if it validated it, and she got louder and more insistent and they got faster together until she finally lifted her ass up off the seat, calling out "Yeah, yeah, yeah, fuck! Oh, yes. Yes. Yes." She sank back down. Philip buried his thumbs up to the second knuckle and held them there, and came up for air.

"Oh. Oh, be gentle, but I need you to move, yeah, just slowly -- Oh!" Philip slid his thumbs out her pussy, kissed it once, and tried to stand up. His position on the floor between her legs had not been kind to his joints and muscles. He laughed shakily as he stood.

Kathleen, still slumped in her chair, looked up at him with a smile that he could only describe as sly. "You're pretty good at that. Maybe a little old to be a boy-toy, but you do have the talent." She grunted slightly as she pulled herself to sitting upright. "Now. Your turn." She reached out and hooked his belt with one hand, and reached for his zipper with the other. She rolled her chair forward.

Philip put his hands on his hips and waited as Kathleen unbuckled his belt, unzipped his fly, and peeled his trousers back. She reached in through the placket of his boxers and pulled out his cock, pushing the cloth down to expose the full length of it. It was the first time she had actually seen it, she realized, and it was an angry red color with a velvet tip shading into something closer to purple. She sank her mouth over it and sucked hard, then pulled it out with a pop. Philip moaned. She engulfed it with her mouth again, this time bobbing up and down a few inches before pulling away with another pop. A third time she attacked it, this time providing little suction but holding her teeth just the right distance apart that they grazed the edges of the cockhead. Philip closed his eyes and tipped his head back. He was unaccustomed to such enthusiastic oral. Kathleen stopped teasing the tip and slowly worked her way down the length of the shaft. Halfway down she paused, flattened her tongue against her throat, gathered herself for the plunge, and rapidly sank her mouth all the way down to the root of Philip's cock. She held that pose for several seconds, giving Philip time to savor the sensation, before sliding the rod back out of her throat. She took a moment to catch up with her breathing before repeating the deep-throat dive. This time she began squeezing Philip's balls while she had his cock fully enveloped. Philip put his hands on the back of her head and began rocking his hips, but she needed to come up for air. She pulled off him and sat back in her chair, looked up at him, and asked "You like?"

"Oh, fuck yeah." Philip could manage only a throaty whisper.

"Good. Now, pull up a chair." She pointed at the guest chair next to her desk. Philip did as he was told, picked up the chair and moved it to the center of the cubicle.

Kathleen tugged at his trousers and boxers, but Philip had to do most of the work of pulling them down around his ankles. "Now sit." The guest seat had the same upholstery as Kathleen's swivel chair, but was a simple side chair without arms or casters. Philip sat, and Kathleen stood up. Once again she gathered her long skirt up around her waist, and now stepped forward and straddled Philip. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned into him, putting her breasts in his face, then she sat on his lap. She could feel his cock trapped against her pussy. She wiggled from side to side. Philip reached for the neckline of her blouse and pulled at it, partially exposing her right breast. She reached behind and under her blouse, and unhooked her bra, them let the blouse slide off her shoulders and down her arms. She pulled her arms out of both blouse and bra straps, and sat there with her skirt pulled up and her blouse pulled down, both bunched at her waist. She put her hands behinds Philip's neck and leaned back to offer him the best possible view. He cupped her breasts and lifted them towards his mouth. As he sucked at her nipples she shifted her weight from side to side, feeling his cock roll under her.

"You missed your calling. You make an excellent lap dancer."

"You think?" She rocked back and forth a bit. "But now it's time to give you one of those special, private dances." She put her feet on the floor and stood up a few inches, and Philip put one hand under her ass and used the other to guide his cock towards her pussy. She lowered herself onto him, his cock sliding in between her lips and on into her cunt. When she had bottomed out she leaned into him again, kissing the side of his neck. "Oh, this is perfect. Damn, I don't need a blindfold to enjoy this. Mmmmm."

She rocked her hips backwards and forwards for a while, then lifted her feet up off the floor so all her weight was on him and wiggled from side to side again. Philip kept both hands on her ass, squeezing the cheeks together then pulling them apart, kneading them, then rubbing, then spreading them again. Kathleen got her feet under her, put her hands on top of her thighs, and began to lift and lower herself up and down the length of Philip's cock. She slowed at the top of each upstroke, carefully gauging how close the tip of his cock was to slipping out entirely, then dropping herself down onto his lap again with all her weight. After half a dozen such long lazy strokes, Philip moved his right hand back to her breasts, and reached with his left hand to stroke the cleft between her ass cheeks as she lifted, then letting her slide away from his hand on the downstroke. As Kathleen lifted herself up, Philip's fingers delved between the soft mounds. Meeting no objection from Kathleen, he pushed harder and deeper until by the third stroke he could feel the tight pucker of her asshole under his fingers. Now he persisted, letting her trap his hand between her cheeks when she settled onto him, and massaging her asshole with one fingertip when she rose.

They were both breathing hard, neither speaking, looks of strained concentration on both faces. Kathleen was no longer pausing at the top of each stroke, and was moving faster. Philip could only let her set the pace. She was working hard and fast now, and Philip kept rimming her asshole. Then she grimaced, put her hands on Philips shoulders and began pounding harder than ever. Philip pushed the tip of his finger into her ass as far as the first knuckle, and Kathleen's eyes and mouth both shot open and she cried out, and managed another half dozen short, very hard strokes before collapsing onto Philip. She whimpered. Philip withdrew his finger, and she whimpered again. She rubbed her face against his shoulder. Then she sat up and looked at him.

"Did you cum?"

"Oh, yeah! I think you were too busy to notice. I was trying to outlast you, but then watching your face when you came put me over the top."

"Oh, good. I don't think I could take any more right now." She put her head back down on his shoulder for a moment, then sat back up. "You are a nasty, filthy man!" Then she kissed his cheek and put her head back down.

"Why, thank you! It's one of my goals in life."

She giggled a little.

"What time is it?"

"Almost midnight."

"Oh, shit. We need to make tracks. I don't wanna, but I gotta."

Kathleen stood up and Philip, already shrinking, slid out of her. They reassembled themselves, and Philip moved the chair back beside the desk. Kathleen leaned over to look. "Big wet spot? Oh, yeah! I'll have to tell housekeeping somebody spilled something."

Philip zipped his trousers and buckled his belt. "I'll need to hit the men's room on my way out."

"Right across the hall. Don't forget to wash your hands!"

Kathleen looked around the cubicle to make sure everything was in its place and nothing was left behind. Her panties were still in her purse, but she left them there as a mark of defiance. Then she went out to the hall and into the women's restroom. She came out the just as Philip did. They walked out of the building and over to the garage side by side, carefully not touching.

It was a quarter to one when they got back to the Venice Cafe. Kris was already there, waiting for them.

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