tagHumor & SatireThe Fire Red Arrows

The Fire Red Arrows


The following is a work of fiction. Those who find similarity to any persons living or dead are really taking it way too seriously. The characters depicted are of adult age, even if they don't act like it. Though we're all adults here, certain elements may offend some readers:

* graphic descriptions of sexual activity

* seduction by artificial/magical means

* spelling errors


Paul Anteros was running late. Again. If he had some luck with the traffic lights, however, there was a small chance he could make it to work on time. Fortunately most people were still home in bed on that cold, dark February morning. Paul pushed his Honda past 50 on a deserted side street and hoped for the best.

Suddenly something streaked through his headlights! Paul slammed on the brakes and turned hard to the left, but whatever it was disappeared behind the front of his car. What the hell was that?! Paul slowly pried his fingers off the steering wheel and put the car in park. It had looked like ... a fat, naked kid? Did he just run over some kid?

"Oh, shitohshitohshit," Paul scrambled out of his seat and rushed to the front of the car. "Are you okay?" he called out before realizing there was no one there. Paul walked around the car twice, but didn't see anyone, naked or otherwise. When he got down on his hands and knees to look underneath the car, all he saw was a miniature bow and a tiny quiver of arrows lying on the pavement.

"Hello," he called doubtfully. "Is anyone there?" He searched up and down the block, but after 20 minutes he started to wonder if he'd imagined the whole thing. After all, how many naked kids were out playing in the road on a winter morning? It had to be less than 15 degrees!

No, Paul decided, he had definitely imagined the kid in the street. Flesh and blood children do not just disappear into thin air, no matter how hard you hit them with a Honda Civic. The bow was a mystery, but he would have to figure that out later. Right now, he was definitely late for work.

Once he arrived at his office, Paul scurried through rows of cubicles with his head down. If he could just get to his desk without being noticed, he would be ok. When he finally ducked into his own cube and dropped the tiny bow and arrows onto his desk he thought he had made it.

"Hendricks was looking for you," announced a nasal voice from across the aisle. It was Paul's neighbor, Wayne the systems analyst. "She looked pissed."

"Shit," Paul swore under his breath. Sharon Hendricks was his supervisor and the last person he wanted to talk to. "That's all I need."

"Have car trouble this morning, Mr. Anteros?" a tall, slim woman in a conservative brown pant suit appeared in the doorway of Paul's cubicle. Her black hair was peppered with gray and pulled back in a tight bun. Wayne the systems analyst grabbed a stack of papers from his desk and scurried off.

"Ms. Hendricks!" Paul exclaimed, "I was just ..."

"Your latest TPS reports were to be on my desk at close of business yesterday," she glared down at Paul. "Where are they?"

"Right," Paul sputtered, "I am nearly ..."

"And what on Earth is this?" Hendricks grabbed one of the arrows from the tiny quiver. It was a vibrant red with a heart-shaped arrowhead. "Some sort of Valentine's Day nonsense, I suppose."

"Yeah," Paul shrugged.

"Actually this looks quite sharp," she poked at the tip of the arrow with a finger. "It may be a violation of the company's weapon policy. I'm going to have to report..." Right before his eyes, the arrow vanished! One moment Hendricks was gently tapping the tip of the arrow with one manicured finger, the next moment there was nothing but a shower of glittering sparks. Those quickly faded.

"What the hell?" Paul sat up in his chair. He looked around on the floor, but the arrow was nowhere to be seen. When he looked back at his supervisor, she was watching him with an uncharacteristic smile on her severe features.

"Mr. Anteros," she breathed, "have I told you how irresistible you are?"

"Uhh, no. Not in so many words."

"Oh, you are," Hendricks sidled toward Paul, putting one leg to each side of his office chair. She ran her fingers through his hair and then lowered herself onto his lap. "So totally irresistible."

"Uhh. Thanks," he croaked. What the hell had gotten into her?

"I can't believe I didn't notice it before," she lightly caressed his face.

"Guess you just never know," he shrugged. Was she going to kiss him? Paul had worked for Sharon Hendricks for nearly five years. By every indication she couldn't stand him, yet now she was perched on his lap and gazing longingly into his eyes. Did it have something to do with that strange arrow?

She quickly popped off Paul's lap and looked up and down the aisle. "Come to my office," she instructed and grabbed him by the hand. She whirled around and marched off, dragging Paul behind her.

In her office, Sharon let go of Paul's hand and whipped off her suit jacket. "Shut the door," she whispered urgently and began to unbutton her blouse. Paul did as instructed. When he turned back, Hendricks was on top of him. She pressed her long, lean body against Paul, pinning him against the back of the door. Her lips locked onto his, frantically drawing him in.

Paul has never considered whether he was attracted to Sharon Hendricks or not -- he was too busy being afraid of her. She was all hard angles and straight lines; not at all what usually appealed to him. There was no denying her passion, however, and he found himself responding. He kissed her back, trying to match her eagerness. His lips parted and allowed her searching tongue into his mouth. He had no idea what was going on, but that didn't mean he couldn't enjoy it.

"Come this way," Hendricks broke away. She led him around her commanding, solid wood desk. Sharon's unbuttoned blouse hung open, revealing a simple, white bra and the tight, undulating muscles of her midsection. Obviously she exercised with the same obsessive intensity that she used in her career.

"Wow," Paul slipped his hands inside her blouse. "You're really buff."

"Do you think so?" Hendricks smiled. "I work hard at it, but I never let anyone see me. Usually."

"You should! Get a teeny tiny bikini. Hang out by the pool in the fitness ... " Paul trailed off as Hendricks slowly sank down to her knees in front of him.

"No," she shook her head and unbuckled his belt, "my body is only for you."

"Ok," Paul mumbled. Sharon slowly and deliberately unfastened his pants then hooked her hands into his waist band. She pulled his Dockers along with his boxer shorts down to the floor. His erection sprang free and pointed out straight in front of him. Hendricks wasted no time wrapping her hand around his shaft and guiding him into her warm mouth.

"Ohhh," Paul moaned. Never in a million years would he have imagined Sharon Hendricks sucking cock, much less his own cock. This day was full of surprises.

"Mr. Anteros," she moaned. "You are delicious!"

Paul slowly scooted backwards, leading his boss by the cock in her mouth. He reached back and found her big, leather desk chair and lowered himself into it. Paul leaned back and closed his eyes, just enjoying the sensations of getting a sloppy blow job from his tough-as-nails boss in her own office.

"I need you in me," Sharon stood up and started unzipping her simple, brown suit pants.

"You ... what?" Paul sat up.

"Do you want to fuck me?" Hendricks stepped out of her slacks and pulled down her plain white panties. The muscles in her long, lean legs flexed and strained like steel chords.

Paul looked down at his throbbing erection, glistening wet with Sharon's saliva. "Yeah," he answered with some surprise. "I guess I do."

"Good," she turned her back to him and spread her legs wide. Paul grabbed her narrow hips with both hands and guided her onto his protruding rod. As she lowered herself onto him, his rock hard member was slowly enveloped in her tight pussy. Finally her firm, round ass settled onto his lap and he was completely inside of her. "Oh that's fabulous," she cooed.

"Ohhhh," Paul answered. Sharon grabbed the arms of the chair and started to pump herself up and down Paul's shaft. He was on fire! Sharon's body was squeezing him so tightly he knew he couldn't last much longer. "Mmmmm."

The phone on Sharon's desk began to beep insistently. She stopped pumping and settled on Paul's lap. "I have to take this," she told him and reached for the phone. Paul groaned to himself. Why now? He was so close!

"This is Sharon Hendricks," she said in a calm, professional tone that was nothing like you would expect someone to sound with a hard cock buried in their pussy. "Oh, hi, Dave. How are things on the thirtieth floor? ... Yes. ... Um-hmm ... Sure I have that report right here."

Sharon shuffled through some papers on her desk. As she reached and leaned her pussy would flex and squeeze, driving Paul up the wall. While calmly talking about project schedules, Sharon started to rock her hips and grind her body onto Paul's. It was only teasing him to greater arousal. It wasn't providing the stroke he needed to get off.

Finally, Paul could take no more. He grabbed Sharon's hard, round ass and lifted her slightly. That gave him just enough room to push off from the floor and drive his cock into her. He had only a few inches of travel available, but he started pounding his shaft into Sharon.

"No, I don't think ... oooooo ... don't think those num ... mmmmmm ... bers are accurate," Hendricks said while Paul was bouncing her up and down on his cock. She grabbed the arm of the chair with her free hand to try to steady herself against Paul's thrusts. He could feel the pleasure building all along his shaft.

"Dave, I'm going to have to put you on hold for a minute," Sharon blurted into the phone. She punched at a button and then slammed the receiver down.

"Oh, God!" she cried out. "Fuck me! Fuck! Me!"

Sharon's body suddenly went rigid. Paul could feel her pussy convulsing on his cock -- gripping his hard member tighter than ever. It was all he needed to go over the edge. He blasted his seed into Hendricks with a powerful spasm. The two lovers collapsed in a sweaty pile.

"God, that was amazing," Sharon gasped. Paul could only nod his head. She turned to him and laid her head on his shoulder with a heavy sigh.

"Where did that come from?" Paul panted.

"I finally realized how utterly and totally amazing ... oh, no! Dave!" Sharon jumped up and grabbed the phone from her desk. "Dave? Sorry about that. Just ... just a little technical difficulty on my end."

Paul decided it was time for him to go. He stood to pull up his pants and tuck his softening cock back into his boxer shorts. "No, it's taken care of now. Very well taken care of," Sharon was saying into the phone. She gave Paul a wink as he slipped out the door.

"Holy shit," he mumbled to himself when he was back at his desk. He didn't know what was more mind-blowing: that Sharon Hendricks fucks like a wild animal or that she just called him "amazing." That was not a word that was used in his last performance review. It must have been that little fire red arrow, he thought. It did something to her.

"Dude, did you see what the intern is wearing today?" Wayne the systems analyst whispered conspiratorially.

"Who? That kid with the fuzzy hair? Did he wear a Star Trek uniform again?"

"No, I'm talking," Wayne leaned in and lowered his voice even more, "I'm talking about the girl in marketing. Hot!"

"Ohhh," Paul nodded with understanding. The marketing intern was the talk of the office. The female employees were in a huff over her edgy fashion sense. The male employees mostly just drooled over her. "Diana"

"Hot," Wayne offered in his nasal voice.

"Definitely," Paul agreed. Diana was the sort of girl who caused traffic accidents just by walking down the sidewalk. She had the face of an angel and a body made for sin. Her skin was bronzed and tan, but flawless and smooth. Her breasts were large and round, but high and perky. Her ass was thick and curvy, but her waist was thin and trim. Diana was well out of his league, but she made an excellent fantasy. Why couldn't she have popped the freaky-magic arrow instead of Hendricks? That would have been amazing!


There were more arrows in the tiny quiver, Paul realized. Did he dare try to use one on Diana the intern? On the other hand, would he ever forgive himself if he didn't?

"I'll be right back," Paul mumbled as he slipped the bow and one of the fire-red arrows behind his back and rushed out of his cubicle.

Before he even reached the marketing section, he saw Diana at the copy machine. Her back was to him, but there was no mistaking that body. She was wearing a short, tan skirt that clung to the curve of her round ass like a second skin and ended soon enough to reveal more of her shapely thighs than was probably allowed under the company dress code.

Paul was so lost in admiring the way her luscious posterior swayed back and forth as she fed paper into the copier that he almost forgot what he was doing. Finally, he caught himself and looked around to check that no one else was watching. He carefully took aim with the tiny bow and fired an arrow toward the magnificent ass in front of him. Unfortunately for Paul he had no particular skill with archery and the arrow flew wide, smashing into a recycling bin and disappearing in a shower of sparkles.

Forget the bow, he decided. There were only a handful of those arrows. He couldn't afford to waste them. He would just have to poke Diana at close range. That had worked well enough with Hendricks -- maybe a little too well, actually.

Paul went back to his cubicle and dropped the bow on his desk. He slipped the shaft of one of the tiny red arrows up his sleeve and held the arrowhead in his palm. That would work, he thought. No one would ever notice it. Just one casual pat on the back and he would be balls deep in the hottest coed in the tri-county area.

Diana wasn't at the copy machine so Paul went to find her cubicle. He casually walked through the marketing area, checking name tags on each desk and trying to look like he knew where he was going. If you look like you know where you're going nobody bothers you.

It turned out that Diana's desk was easy to identify. It was the only one with three men orbiting around it like moths around a street light. Shit! He wasn't sure how the magic arrows worked exactly, but getting the stunning, young intern alone seemed important. Paul was not keen on making her fall in love with Barry from the mail room. How was he going to get rid of these jokers?

Paul didn't wait long, however, before Diana's telephone beeped. She snatched it up on the first ring. "This is Diana," she told the caller.

Diana talked on the telephone for several minutes while her admirers milled about awkwardly. Eventually they realized that she wasn't getting off the phone just to chat with some random coworkers and one-by-one they went back to their actual jobs. Move it along, boys. She's mine now.

"I'll email you a link to that YouTube video," Barry from the mail room promised earnestly before shuffling off.

Diana nodded and smiled politely. "No, it says 'ICMS password expired' whatever that means," she said into the phone. Paul perked up his ears. He had seen that error himself often enough. The ICMS system was necessary for almost everything from requesting vacation to ordering supplies. It was also a pile of crap.

"Okay," she continued hopefully. "Can you do that right now? ... Two weeks!? ... But ... but ... I need to get online today! ... Hello? ... Hello? ... Arrggh." She slammed down the phone. Paul could sympathize. He'd run up against the same problem many times -- the I.T. group used the shoddy management database as a way to consolidate their power in the company. They'd fix your errors and let you do your job, but only on their terms. Luckily, he'd found a few shortcuts over the years.

"Trouble with ICMS?" he slipped into Diana's line of sight.

"Yes!" she exclaimed. "I have to log in to release this report, but it says my password is expired. If I don't get this report released before the director's meeting at 1 o'clock my boss is going to kill me! I was supposed to ... well ... I was supposed to do it yesterday, but I forgot."

"It happens," Paul nodded.

"Right. So they'll fix it, but not for two whole weeks! How am I supposed to do anything until then?"

"There's a way to get online even with an expired password," he tried to reassure her.

"There is?" she asked hopefully. "How do you know?"

"I work in project management. We use ICMS all the time. Name's Paul, by the way."

"Pleased to meet you," Diana flashed him a smile. "I'm Diana. Project management, huh. So you're under Sharon Hendricks?"

"Uhh, yeah. So to speak."

"I interviewed with her when I got this job," she leaned in and lowered her voice. "Is she always so intimidating?"

"No, not always," Paul offered. "Sometimes she's downright scary."

"I believe it," Diana giggled and scrunched her button nose. She was beautiful! Flawless skin, luminous eyes, sumptuous lips, and all framed by cascading waves of golden brown hair. How would it feel to run his fingers through all that silky hair and kiss those plump, red lips?

"What?" she smirked at him.

"Uhh, nothing," Paul stuttered. Crap! He had been staring. Get back on track! "So, try logging into your account again."

"Okay," Diana said doubtfully and turned back to her computer. "There. It just gives me this error message."

"Sure. Then click here where it says 'Try Again.' Then enter your password again."

"Okay. Same error."

"Try one more time."

"Great. Now it says my account has been locked out because of too many login attempts," Diana grumbled.

"It's ok," Paul assured her. "Now hit the back button. No, no. The back button. There you go. Now try to login again."

"Holy cow! I'm in!" Diana turned her radiant smile to Paul. "Oh my God, you're a lifesaver. Thank you so much. How did that even work?"

"It's a bug in the system," Paul said enjoying the warmth of her approval. "Seriously though, don't tell anybody. If the sys admin group finds out they'll just fix it."

"Your secret is safe with me," Diana grinned.

"What secret?" Brad from marketing has come up behind Paul and joined the conversation.

"Oh, I was just telling Diana about my years as a cross-dressing Las Vegas showgirl," Paul replied. He threw a wink at Diana who was covering her grin with one delicate hand. "I'd prefer if you didn't spread that around, though. I just don't have the legs for it anymore."

"Uhhh, okaaay," Brad from marketing gave Paul a suspicious look and then turned to Diana. He was holding some sort of glossy catalog. "Hey, I wanted to show you the big-screen TV that I've been looking at buying."

Damn! Paul had completely forgotten about jabbing Diana with the arrow. Now Brad showed up with his electronics wish list and ruined everything. "It's more than four thousand dollars," he was droning on, "but it's twenty-one-sixty lines of resolution, you know?"

It was obvious that Brad from marketing wasn't going anywhere soon. Damn damn! Paul decided it was time to retreat and watch for another opportunity. He could hardly hang around and chat about home electronics all morning. "Anyway, I should get back to work. It was nice to meet you."

"Thank you so much, Paul," Diana told him. "The advice on my high-kicks will make a huge difference."

"... my old set was forty six inches but I decided it was time to upgrade ... "

"Glad to help," Paul chuckled. Drop dead gorgeous and she was also smart ass. Imagine that?

" ... come over when I get it installed," Brad was telling her. "Avatar will look amazing on this thing."

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