Chapter 4
She couldn't move for a moment but just lay there, letting herself come back together. Her body was singing strangely but she didn't like it. Patricia Worth felt less in command of herself than she was won't to do and someone would have to pay. She couldn't afford to drop her armor like this.
Rising, she hobbled to the bathroom thinking how it would look if someone saw her like this. It was fine to abandon yourself to your needs as Patty Worth. But to let go as Patricia could turn into a major disaster, one that could ruin her whole life.
Well....
Her stockings trailed on the floor behind her and she didn't want to fix them until she had washed herself. The briney fragrance of her moist womanness drifted up to her nostrils.
"I smell like a whorehouse," she murmured.
And where had this bursting desire come from? Was she really a lesbian after all?
Of course not! She couldn't afford to be. She had a date with Gerald that night.
She was almost crying with vexation as she squatted in front of the basin in the bathroom, bathing her little box and drying it. She sprayed cologne over herself frantically and then slid her panties back on and replaced her hose after straightening her garter belt. Finally she stood in front of the mirror and redid her face.
Yes, there she was. Cool. Composed. Patricia Worth was back now and things were under control.
She felt the surge of memory as the events of a few minutes before came back but shrugged them off.
"Never mind," she murmured. Maybe she would ask the pool for a new secretary. ... After all, Laurie was adequate but she wasn't the paragon of efficiency Patricia would have liked. And any woman that she didn't desire would be preferable to Laurie now, wouldn't she?
She turned and marched back into the office and seated herself at the desk.
"Now, maybe I can get some work done," she told herself, picking up the first folder.
But such was not to be her day. She had barely turned the first page when the door burst open and Randy stormed into the room. "I want to talk to you."
Laurie trailed behind him almost in tears.
"I tried to stop him, Miss Worth."
"But she couldn't, Miss Worth," Randy interrupted, "because Randy wanted to talk to Patty."
"Who's Patty-?" Laurie began.
Patricia pulled herself together and made her voice firm. "Never mind, Laurie," she said. "I'll take care of this gentleman, thank you."
Her voice forbad discussion.
"Yes, Ma'am," Laurie murmured meekly and went out.
The door closed behind them.
Patricia, desperate, moved into play before Randy could.
"Darling, it's so exciting to see you here."
She moved over to him and was in his arms before he could move, her body rubbing against him. He responded, his arms going around her and Patricia felt the surge of his heavy rod against her.
But he broke away.
"I want to talk to you, Patty-."
"Do you like my office?"
She was still against him and reached down and stroked his heavy rod.
She felt him tremble. His eyes went over her once more and she saw that he was impressed in spite of himself with her appearance.
And she saw that he wanted her. It would have been best to have gone ahead, walked over to the door, locked it, and given herself to him. But Patricia suddenly wasn't up to letting herself go once more, not unless there was no other way out.
"I guess you think you're smart, leading me on this way," Randy said.
"It isn't that way, darling, really-"
She was wondering how he had managed to find her and whether he intended to expose her or not. Of course, she might lie out of it but there was a possibility that before she managed, her affair with Gerald would be ruined.
No, she had to get him out of here. There wasn't time for lovemaking, explanations, anything.
Randy was glaring.
"I just couldn't swallow it," he said, "the poor little rich girl whose folks wouldn't let her out. So I followed you home and then this morning I was back waiting when you came out and drove to work-"
His anger turned to hurt.
"How could you string me on like this, Patty?"
Genuine remorse touched her for a moment. How could she make him understand that there was so much at stake? That the only real sexual pleasure she had ever had came from Patty Worth's escapades?
And there wasn't time. Any minute someone else would come in and she would have to explain this boy's presence.
"Randy, darling, it's not like you think. I can't explain now but there was no malice. I didn't want to deceive you but I had to if we were to be together."
That was good.
"But how-?"
"Oh, darling, I can't explain now. There'll be people coming in. I'll lose my job. I-I'll meet you and we'll talk and I'll tell you the whole thing."
Her body was against him now. She got his hand and slid it up under her dress.
"Tonight?" he said.
Patricia thought of Gerald.
"Tomorrow evening-"
"No," Randy said bluntly. "Tonight or never."
She couldn't let it end this way. He might get a streak of vengeance and ruin it all for her.
Better take a chance on making Gerald angry.
His strong fingers were up inside the elastic of her panties, stroking her dark bush. For a moment, she wished there were time.
"All right. Tonight, darling. The same place. I'll do anything to get us straightened out."
That at least was true. Her voice rang with sincerity at the words.
Randy's brow knit as he thought about it.
"All right, but it better be good."
She wriggled her little box against him and for a moment her eyes gleamed like Patty's.
"It'll be good," she promised.
Randy kissed her fiercely, his tongue probing into her mouth and she felt passion surge.
"Couldn't we do something here?" he asked hungrily.
Patricia shook her head.
"There's a meeting here in minutes. Please, Randy. Trust me-"
He frowned a moment, then his face broke into a hesitant smile.
"All right."
He kissed her once more and then walked over to the door.
"See you tonight," he said. "Yes, darling." And he was gone.
Patricia sank into the chair behind the desk once more, her knees weak.
"What else?" she wondered.
Suddenly her nerves were jumping. Her whole body was strung tight as a bow. She felt a tension in her that was unbearable as though somewhere inside her, Patty and Patricia had suddenly come together. They didn't like each other too much.
"What am I going to do?"
All the sexual excitement after the many years of near-death was doing things to her physically and mentally.
She took a deep breath and closed her eyes.
"Well, it's time Patricia took over," she told herself. There was no way she could get anything done if Patty were turned loose to romp in the halls of Heard Advertising.
She picked up the first sheet of paper in the folder and had just begun to peruse it.
A light knock sounded and the door burst open.
"Oh no!" she thought.
The last person in the world she wanted to see at this moment was Bob Haines.
And there he was, tall, confident, good-looking, efficient at his job. The best photographer they had.
"Hi, Beautiful," he said. "I thought you'd like to take a look at these proofs."
"What proofs?" Patricia demanded.
"For the Fallon job. They're all ready."
"But you were transferred off the Fallon job."
Bob grinned at her and his dark eyes kindled light. Suddenly the room was too small.
"I transferred back on," he said. "It was kind of a trade. Well, you wouldn't be interested."
Anger seized Patricia and she stood up.
"Oh, but I most assuredly would," she said coldly. "I would be very interested indeed to know just who countermanded my request when I specifically asked that you not be put on the job."
Bob looked at her and his eyes glinted with amusement.
"I did," he said.
"But-but you're just a photographer."
"Just a photographer!" Bob exclaimed. "Why just the best photographer in the outfit and you'd be a fool to try that layout with anyone but me!"
This was true, Patricia knew. But she also knew it wasn't that. There was a confidence, almost a cockiness about Bob Haines that threatened her. She would never use him on a job-not after the first time.
No, not even if it meant that the job wouldn't be as good, which she was sure it wouldn't.
You had to draw the line somewhere and Patricia's rank hatred for Bob was where she drew it.
There was something too wholeheartedly, drivingly egotistical about him.
For that first assignment, they went to this man's apartment: a friend who had lent them the place for a day to make shots. It was an Interior Decorating firm.
Well, she had worked with photographers on all kinds of occasions and never had any trouble, never anticipated any. She tried to be relaxed and free, within limits, with the other employees which was why she had a drink with Haines before they started.
"Might as well relax," he had said. "We have the whole place to ourselves."
He had mixed two heavy drinks and they had wandered around looking at the place, sizing it up while they sipped their drinks. They were charmed by it. It wasn't any particular style but the pieces and decor fitted each other.
They had a second drink and Bob set up his camera and fooled with the drapes.
He was very casual but she sensed that he was doing a good job. She got into his head a little, looking through the viewer of the camera.
And the drinks made her a lot freer than she usually was, a lot freer than she liked for Patricia Worth to be. They went into the bedroom. The bed was big with an elegant oriental spread in rich colors.
"I'll bet you'd look great on that," he murmured challengingly.
She had had two doubles.
"Of course you're pretty much the lady," he went on, the edge of a taunt in his voice.
She never remembered till too late that she couldn't drink.
"For what?"
"To be relaxed enough to pose nude decently."
It was the gauntlet flung down and she was just drunk enough to pop out of her role. "Who is?" she demanded. "You are!"
She hated it when a man got under her skin but it never occurred to her why.
She was just a tiny bit wobbly.
Standing there in front of him, she suddenly, defiantly, began to strip her clothing off.
He watched, a glint of amusement in his eye, as the high blouse came off and then the bra, baring the full voluptuous breasts with their coral-pink nipples.
He couldn't suppress a whistle. She glared at him.
"I'm sorry," he grinned, "but you have beautiful breasts."
Skirt down, a moment's hesitation. What had she gotten herself into? She was standing there, glaring at him, skirt in hand, wearing nothing but a thin pair of panties.
Now was the time to back down, to get everything back on the escape with what little dignity she had left.
But he was eyeing her teasingly.
With a sudden angry shrug, she shucked the thin panties down over her hips and stepped out of them. She gave him a flash of her white bottom as she dropped onto the bed, sprawling in a luxury of sensuous abandon. He snapped a shot and she rolled over on her belly, eyeing him through slits, her rounded buttocks thrust upward.
"Great," he murmured, "Let me get a couple of more."
She could feel the tension of his excitement now.
"Good," she thought. "Let him squirm a while."
He snapped a couple of more shots and grinned with pleasure and desire.
"You're a good model," he said, moving out from the camera and over to the bed.
She looked up at him, her eyes narrow slits of provocation, her body arched and vibrant.
"You like it, huh?"
He nodded, dropping down onto the bed beside her. There was a tension between them that crackled on the air like electricity.
She looked at him through slitted eyes, gauging her effect. One of her hands moved down her body to nestle in her crotch, protectively, enticingly.
"You think it would be good, huh?"
His hands reached for her but she moved away.
Then she deliberately spread the lips of her little box to entice him further.
He stared and reached once more.
"You want it?" she asked.
He licked his lips hungrily.
"You know I want it, Baby."
"Well, let's see what you've got to offer then."
She knew she was drunk but she was still angry and she knew what she was going to do now.
He stood up and began stripping his lean body. In spite of herself, she had to stare.
Bronze skin, lean hips, dark curls on his chest to match the waving hair on his head. And between the legs, the heavy jut of his rod, big, impressive, alive now with his hunger for her.
He dropped down onto the bed and reached for her. She let him get in one kiss, then slipped away from him.
"I have to go into the bathroom a minute," she murmured coyly and grabbing up her clothes, headed for the John. He was sure to think she was putting in her diaphragm or something.
It took about a minute to dress and then she was back out there.
"Hey what's going on?"
The camera was still facing the bed. He was sitting up, facing her, a look of surprise on his features, and his heavy rod jutting.
"Hold it!" she called and snapped the picture.
Then she scooped up his clothes, bundled them under her arm and was out the door before he could stop her.
"Have a nice day, Mr. Haines, and remember your place next time," she called through the door.
She heard an answering curse and then walked down the hall and out into the street, chuckling to herself. That should put one brash young photographer in his place.
Only it hadn't.
The next day in the office mail, she found an eight-by-ten glossy of him sitting up in the bed, a surprised look on his face. "Till next time, Bob," was written across the heavy erection.
And with the picture of him were the shots that he had made of her, bold and inviting, breasts raised in invitation.
"I'll kill him," Patricia Worth snarled and rang for the photo lab.
She got them back. She had thought that she would have to threaten having him fired to get them. She probably could have. But once he realized that she was really in earnest, he brought them, all of the negatives up to her office.
"Here, beautiful," he smiled. "I didn't know it meant so much to you."
He dropped a bundle of negatives and prints on the desk.
Patricia's voice was cold.
"Mr. Haines, the thought of having my bare ass hanging from the wall of every male voyeur in the city does not appeal to me."
"I'm a little more discreet than that."
Her voice was ice.
"I'd rather not discuss it further. If we can't have a working business relationship, Mr. Haines, I think it would be better that we avoid each other at all costs."
"A working relationship," he murmured. "On your terms."
His eyes were on her, moving to the breasts that he had seen bare just the day before. Patricia felt her breath catch.
"That's enough," she said, really alarmed suddenly. "I won't ask for you for any assignment again."
"But I'm the best photographer they've got. And I like you."
"Well, I'll struggle along without your talent or your good will," Patricia said coldly.
She had turned to her work once more.
Bob Haines eyed her thoughtfully for a long moment.
"You really are a cold one, aren't you?" he asked. Then added thoughtfully, "Or maybe you're just scared."
She said nothing and a moment later he was gone. That had been six months or more ago. It still disturbed her and she had never asked for Bob Haines for any assignment again.
But she had dreamed about him.
And felt his eyes on her from across the room as she moved to and fro on business. She felt the hunger in those eyes and it disturbed her. It was hard to be Patricia Worth around this man. And in that sense, he was a danger to her mission.
"Look, Patricia-Miss Worth," Bob said. "Can't we be friends? I'd really like to work with you."
"Is that all?"
His eyes gleamed.
"No, that's not all," he said. "I want you, you know that."
"Well, I'm afraid that's impossible."
Patricia turned and started around her desk.
Strong arms reached out and drew her in. She struggled but it was useless.
"Impossible," Bob Haines asked. "Or improbable?"
His hands were like iron, turning her to face him. Panic flooded Patricia. "Please," she begged.
"No," he said. "I've tried kid gloves and you don't even know what I'm talking about."
"This is my office," she said, making her voice like ice.
"Good," he said. "It's about time you were fucked in your office. Maybe it will take some of the ice out of the air."
"I'll have you fired."
"That's where I'm one up on you," he said. "I don't give a damn."
Panicked, Patricia struggled uselessly. The arms tightened and his mouth descended to hers.
"Ohhh!"
His lips were on hers, his tongue probing her mouth. She fought to remain completely unresponding.
But it was hard with his rigid rod grinding into her. She felt the throb of his heavy tumescence against her and thought, "Oh my god, not again."
Somehow it was the awkwardness of trying to struggle out of the cumbersome garter belt and the hose that struck her. But she suddenly was even more determined than ever not to be subdued.
Breaking away, she swung a blow at him which he countered by grabbing her arm. She clawed for his eyes with the other hand and he caught that also and drew her back to him. Their faces inches apart, he held her and looked into her eyes.
"You'll love it," he muttered with a tight grin.
"I'm going to strip you and fuck you now. It's what I should have done that first day "
"I'll kill you," she snarled.
"I guess you're welcome to try," he told her, "but I won't be sitting on my hands while you do."
"Turn me loose!"
"After you've had a good solid dose of the one medicine you need," he said. "And what's that?"
"A big stiff dick!"
His hands reached up and fumbled at her blouse.
"Now you can be still," he muttered as she started to struggle, "or I can just save time by ripping them off you."
She saw by his eyes that he meant it and had a sudden flash of herself emerging from the office, the clothes stripped off her, to be ogled by the office crew. She subsided and he held her with one hand, stripping the blouse from her. She broke away as he did the arms but he countered by catching her bra strap and drawing her back.
"Now for a look at those luscious boobs," he murmured.
The bra came away and she turned clawing at him, breasts bouncing with the motion.
He slapped her hands away and smacked her smartly with the other hand. Tears stung her eyes.
"Now, stop it!" he grated and dropped to the floor, hauling her down with him.
"Thank God for wall-to-wall carpeting," he grinned, placing her over his knee. She struggled manfully and he brought a hand smartly down on her butt. "Owww!"
"Now, where's that zipper?" he muttered. "To the left."
"Thanks."
"I'll kill you!"
The zipper came down and he tugged the skirt down from her.
"Christ! A garter belt"
He tugged at it, drawing stockings and all around her ankles.
She felt completely helpless, entangled in her own garments.
"I never worked so hard in my damned life," he snarled.
"I'll kill you."
"Be still!"
The hand cracked smartly down on her butt and she winced. Kicking off her shoes, she managed to slide her stockings off and he drew the garter belt the rest of the way down.
"If I ever get your ass bare, I'm going to slaughter it," he cursed angrily.
"I'll kill you!"
"You said that."
Now there was nothing left but the much-abused thin white panties and he drew them down over her butt. Realizing the end was near, she twisted and writhed desperately. There was a genuine panic in her. Would anything ever be the same when Patricia Worth had been stripped in her own office?
The panties hung around her ankles. She felt his eyes on her naked butt.
"Now," he snarled, bringing his hand down on bare flesh. "Will you be still?"
"I'll kill you!"
"You're the most unimaginative conversationalist I ever met."
The hand came down again, hard this time, and tears stung her eyes and suddenly she wanted to just lie there sobbing and submit.
But she would never give him the satisfaction. She struggled off his lap and on hands and knees started crawling away from him.
"That's how you want it eh?" He demanded and dove for her.
Before she really knew what was happening, he was on her, arms around her, driving his big dick in from the rear. She struggled to break his hold but she couldn't.
"They call this dog-style," he muttered, driving the heavy rod all the way in.
She could see why. She felt animal and degraded with him spread over her, his big rod pumping, scrotum beating against her legs.
"But-you can't do this!"
"Why?"
"Because I'm Patricia Worth!" She was wiggling to break away but each motion seemed merely to lodge him deeper.
"Take it," he snarled.
Now the heat was coming into her belly. She didn't expect it, didn't expect to want him but suddenly she did.
Her belly yearned for his hot sperm and she twisted and writhed to draw him up tighter aware of his weight on her butt and the spread of him over her.
"Take it, bitch!" he snarled.
That was just what she felt like, a bitch in heat and she didn't want to. She wanted to be cool and calm now and seated at her desk with everything in control.
"Take it!"
She moaned and twisted and drove up to him, completely broken for the moment. "That's better."
His thick rod plundered her, driving ever deeper, ever faster until she was in a frenzy, wanting him, wanting the hot thick juices of his come burning into her.
"Come," she moaned.
"Don't worry."
He bucked up against her rear, heavily, violently, a final time and then stiffened.
She bent, arching her rear up to him and felt the hot spurt of his release, her own climax following at once. She shuddered and bent to him like a tree in a storm until the last sperm had vanished.
She lay there sprawled on the floor, her rear in the air while he rose, redoing his pants.
"That wasn't how I planned it, Miss Worth," he said quietly. "And next time it will be different."
"I'll kill you," she sobbed weakly.
"No, you'll just come to know me sooner or later. We're fated," he said calmly. "But that's, enough to think about for one day."
And he turned and let himself out the door while she lay there with his juices running out of her, staining the immaculate carpet.