Chrissie

by

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Coercion, Blackmail, Paranormal, Cheating, Gang Bang, Violent, .

Desc: Sex Story: My version of the Strange car in the driveway Story

Author's note: I'm very fortunate, in that I get a lot of you guys and the ladies too, writing to tell me what they'd like to see. Some of you have incredible ideas, and it frustrates me that I'm just not a good enough writer yet to flesh them out. Usually in cases like that I ask the person to send those ideas to DQS, or Rehnquist, or Robert Lubrican, because those guys can truly make a story sing. But in this case the idea was right up my alley so I took a stab at it. This ideas expressed in this story are extremely unlikely to actually occur. Though I can't help thinking I'd love to think it could be true. For the practical and extremely reality oriented individuals out there, you might want to stop reading now and pick a different story. Ok you have been warned. For the rest of you, I truly hope you'll like it. But I'm sure you'll let me know either way. For the 2 or 3 people who suggested this story or its idea. I hope I did a decent job of showing what you wanted to see.

Okay, a lot of these stories start out with a cliché, it goes something like this: I came home from work and there was a strange car in the driveway. Well shit, it does happen like that a lot. And my story does have some of that in it, but it's just a tad different. It's different because Chrissie loves me, and will do whatever it takes to protect me, no matter what.

Maybe I should start at the beginning. Well the recent beginning anyway. My name is Tim Matthews. I work in IT at a mid sized company in the Midwest. I'm about 5'10", 180 lbs. I have dark brown hair, and blue eyes. I'm fit, and stay that way from regular workouts and runs. According to all of my friends, I should be drowning in pussy, but I rarely ever date. It's not that I'm not interested in women, or that they're not interested in me, but I have to be very careful. I was lucky the first time, and though there was suspicion, it was all chalked up to a series of freak accidents. So I wasn't charged with anything, but I'm sure the police are still watching me now, almost 5 years later. Mostly because what happened was so fucking weird and because they still don't believe it.

A couple of weeks ago, I was replacing a monitor, in an office on the 5th floor of our building. I checked out the old monitor and it seemed to be working fine, the screen was clear, graphics rendered beautifully, and text was easy to read. I found absolutely nothing wrong with the monitor so I ran it through the troubleshooting program for color depth, screen position and everything else I could think of. Finally I marked the monitor A-OK and swapped it out anyway, with a nearly exact duplicate of the same model.

The current user of the cubicle appraised me, as I worked.

"Okay, you know there's nothing wrong with my monitor. Why'd you swap it anyway? If you were going to just swap it out, why not just unplug it, plug in the replacement and then be own your way. You could have been out of here in 5 minutes," She told me.

"Look Ms. Uh," I paused as I looked for my trouble ticket to find her name.

"It's Miss," she said. "As in if you don't look at me you might miss something that could be really good. And the last name is Henderson. The first name that you should be using though is Elaine. Put it all together and you get Elaine Marie Henderson. Elaine to my friends, Lainie to you though. I had the feeling that I had just been treated to her version of the Bond, James Bond line.

"Well Lainie, my ticket says that you requested a monitor swap because you've been having trouble with your monitor. I checked it out here, so I could see if there was anything wrong with it and didn't find anything. But the problem could be situational which means you have to do certain things to see it happen. Or it could be just something that happens at certain times. This way I didn't have to haul it all the way to the IT workshop and test it, I can just mark it usable and put it on the shelf when I get there. Once again I'm not trying to second guess what you need, if you want a different monitor, I'm giving you one. I don't comment on the way you do spreadsheets or whatever you do, so please give me the courtesy to respect the way I do my job as well. I'm only trying to help you, and give you the tools to do your job. We're all supposed to be one team after all. If you ask for a new monitor, and I have one, it's yours plain and simple. Please have a nice day."

"Wow, that makes a hell of a lot of sense," she said. "Maybe what they said about the IT department wasn't totally true. But what if I already knew that there wasn't anything wrong with my monitor? What if this was all part of a dastardly plot to get you up here so I could ask you a question?"

"I guess it must be a hell of a question for you to go through all of that trouble and risk." I said. "So what's the question?" I turned and looked at her for the first time, and almost fell over. She was tall and thin but curvy where you want your woman to be curvy. She had a mane of unrestrained tawny curls that spilled over her shoulders like a waterfall tumbling over the side of a cliff. Her luscious lips were pulled back in a welcoming smile and when she took off those square framed glasses that were all the rage for the office types lately, I nearly fell into her sea green eyes."

It all looked like she had rehearsed it for days. She took off the glasses and twitched her head, causing all of that hair to flip around. It looked like a damned shampoo commercial. She even put one of the ear pieces of her glasses in her mouth and bit it lightly so I could see how white her teeth were. I was expecting her next move to be the one where she opens up her blouse by pooping a few buttons and then slides across the long conference table to me, like in the "Hot for Teacher" video that Van Halen did back in the 80's. I was ready for David Lee Roth and Eddie Van Halen to come tearing into the room. With Dave looking for all the world like a game show host on coke, and Eddie playing one insane riff after another from a hidden Marshall stack, on a guitar that looked like it was recued from a junk yard and held together with spit, Elmer's glue, and duct tape. In the dim recesses of my mind, I heard the music and couldn't help thinking, "I've got it made, got it made, got it made. I'm hot for Lainie.

Okay where was I. Oh yeah she was about to hit me with the big question. If I zone out like that again let me know.

"Why don't you want to go out with me?" she asked. I felt like all of the air in the room just vanished. I tried opening up my lungs and pulling oxygen in but it just wouldn't come into me. Nor could I let any back out.

"I uh, don't date," I managed to choke out.

"Why, not?" she asked, a pout distending those perfect lips.

"It just doesn't work out, it never has. And I don't think it ever will." I grabbed my stuff and started for her door. The cubicle wasn't that big, but she crossed the distance really quickly and slammed the door blocking my exit.

"I think we'd be good for each other. I've done my homework. We're both divorced. We're actually divorced for the same reason. We both had partners who were no where near worthy of us, who cheated on us. We're both into cars, and we're both cute." She paused, here and looked at me again. "At least you're cute; I'm not too sure about myself." As she said that last line she ran her fingers up her body, from her slim hips to those small but perfectly proportionate breasts. It was almost like she was a stripper practicing her routine with her clothes on. This woman should never be allowed to watch MTV or soft core porn. "Am I cute, Tim?" All I could do was nod my head up and down.

"Well let's talk about it some more, how about tomorrow at lunch in the cafeteria? You have to have lunch sometime. When do you eat, Tim?" she asked. It took me a few seconds that seemed more like a few days to answer.

My brain wanted to say "As soon as your legs open," but what came out was "12:45."

"I'll see you then," she smiled.

When I got back to the IT office, none of the women there and would look me in the eye. Most of the men were also seemingly busy, but I could tell they were all looking at me, as I carried the monitor in and put it on a shelf. I looked at the board for open tickets and was about to grab one and head back out when one of my best friends Josh Thomas grabbed my arm.

"Well, what did ya think?" he asked excitedly.

"What did I think about what?" I asked, looking confused. I noticed that every eye in the IT office including my long time friend and supervisor Emma Smith, was on me.

"I went upstairs, tested a monitor, it checked out okay, but I swapped it out anyway, then I came back. If you're asking me whether or not I think there was anything wrong with that monitor, I'd probably have to say no, but you know how it goes. Anyway, I'm going to do another ticket."

He looked at me as if I had just thrown away a winning lottery ticket. Then he looked around the room, and everyone else was just as incredulous. He threw his hands up in the air as if he was exasperated. Emma ran across the floor to me and stopped me from leaving. "Uh Tim, was there anyone in the cubicle upstairs when you swapped out that monitor?" she asked.

I tilted my head to the side as if I couldn't remember, or hadn't thought about it. Then I opened my mouth to speak, but quickly closed it again. I noticed that everyone in the fucking office was waiting for me to say something so I wanted to stretch this out as long as I could.

"Yeah there was some woman there." I said it so low and so quickly that no one could make out what I said. Then I reached for the door handle. Emma smacked my hand away from the handle.

.... There is more of this story ...

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