Plot supplied by "Rob"

Beer. That was what I needed after that grinding, stressful twelve-hour day spent pouring over financial figures and riding the asses of my subordinates to get our workload caught up. Though I'd gladly accepted the position of senior auditor when they'd offered it to me last year, and though I'd gladly accepted the eight thousand a year raise that went along with it, it was nights like these that made me wish to be just another peon once again.

I hate to be an asshole to the auditors under me, I really do. I was not born to be an asshole. I especially hate it when, as was the situation that week, the crisis in question was not of their or my making. But the crisis was there and things needed to get done. Beachman Lumber, one of our major clients, suddenly announced a pending merger with another lumber company and a complete audit needed to be done before negotiations between the two could commence. And let me tell you, they wanted it done like yesterday. My team of four and myself had just spent six twelve-hour days completing the Seattle portion of the audit. Saturday night at 7:00 we'd finally finished the last stages of it. Monday morning at 7:25 we would fly out of Sea-Tac to Bangor, Maine to finish the rest. We would spend at least four days there I knew, auditing that portion of Beachman's books.

I'd released the other members of my team at 7:00 that night, telling them to enjoy their Sunday off before the flight on Monday. As the supervisor I'd stayed behind for another hour finalizing the final arrangements for our trip and organizing the last few bits of the Seattle report. When I finally shut down my computer and stood up from my office chair my back was aching, fatigue was pulling strongly at me, and my eyes were burning as if they did not have a drop of moisture in them.

I looked around the office, which was empty except for myself. It used to strike me as strange, being alone in a large office that was usually teeming with activity. Seeing the empty desks, the idle computers, hearing the silence. It didn't any more. I was used to it. I'd experienced it a lot since my promotion.

I walked over to the window and stared outside for a moment, looking at the other high-rises of Seattle gleaming in the night. It was a rare, beautiful spring night in the rainy city. The stars were out and shining brilliantly. The moon was up and casting it's light on the waters of Puget Sound. It was the kind of night that made me want to sit on the porch swing with my wife, sipping a glass of wine, eventually to retire to the bedroom for a long, slow, sensuous lovemaking session.

Alas, that was not to be. Lisa was working that night. My wife is a nurse that works the night shift at a local hospital emergency room. She would not be home until 7:30 the next morning. And she would be too exhausted to do anything but sleep when she did get there. It was a pity. Aside from being exhausted and in need of some alcohol, I was horny. Very horny. Kathy, one of my auditors, always did that to me. I can't count the number of times I'd been screwing my wife and imagining it was the beautiful redhead thrusting beneath me. Oh well, it looked like it was alt.binaries.pictures.erotica.redheads and my five best friends again that night. Since Kathy had been assigned to my team I'd developed an infatuation with redheads in general and Kathy in particular.

Kathy is every man's fantasy. She's petite, standing about 5'4". Her face is very pretty and she smiles frequently; smiles that produce cute little dimples. Her hair, as I've mentioned, is red, probably dyed, but it's such a good dye-job that the illusion is near perfect. She has perky tits, a trim waist, and an absolutely killer ass. She enjoys wearing clothes that cling to her body alluringly, outlining her tits and ass. Her skirts are always short, showing off her shapely legs. Her clothing always comes close to, but does not actually violate our professional standards of dress.

I particularly like it when she has to come in on Saturdays. We have no dress standards if we have to work weekends and she always dresses in something that borders on slutty on these occasions. Kathy had not disappointed me that day. She'd worn a loose fitting, short summer dress with no nylons beneath it. The hem of her skirt had stopped about five inches above her pretty knees. Whenever she'd twisted or turned in her seat I'd been able to glimpse her gorgeous, bare legs all the way up to mid-thigh. I'd spend a good part of my productive workday wondering what it would be like to climb between those thighs.

Aside from being extremely attractive she's a horrible tease. She delights in dropping sexual comments and innuendo during the most innocent of conversations. You could be talking about her kids, she has two of them, and she will twist the conversation around to how horny she'd been during pregnancy. You could be talking about working out and she will twist it around to how the exercise bikes rubbing in her crotch make her horny. You could be talking about the horrors of the holocaust and she would twist it around to how those poor GI's wives during World War II must've been out of their minds with horniness.

She enjoys displaying the silver stud in her belly button whenever anyone asks to see it; and often when they don't. Everyone always pretends to be looking at the ring when she shows it instead of her smooth, tanned belly that somehow, despite her two childbirth episodes, does not have any stretch marks on it. If she is feeling especially daring that day she will push her skirt or pants down low enough for you to make out the top of her panties, which are always some color other than white.

Due to her teasing and innuendo many have tried to date her and get her in the sack. None have succeeded. She always stops things when they get to a certain level of flirtation. She's married, she always proclaims and she just couldn't hurt her husband. Her husband is a lawyer with one of the local firms, a man that probably pulls in more than two hundred grand a year. She has no problem telling anyone who asks, and even those who don't, about how lousy of a lay he is, about how he's never made her come, about how his coitus sessions last about three minutes. But whenever anyone offers to rectify that situation for her she blows him off stiffly and firmly. Though she's probably the person in our office whose image is most masturbated to (I myself have noticed that all of the redhead shots from ABPER that I've saved on my hard-drive bear a striking resemblance to her), she's also developed the greatest cock-tease reputation of anyone. She's been here long enough now that her flirtations are enjoyed by all, taken seriously by none.

As for myself, though I've fantasized about her extensively since she first made her appearance in my division a year ago, I've never put a serious move on her. She's an enjoyable distraction but I am happily married and have little interest in extra-marital goings on. Besides that, I'm her supervisor and in this world of out-of-control sexual harassment suits, having an affair, or even attempting one with a subordinate is an act of madness. I would not even do anything with her if she DID give me the opportunity.

Or so I thought. It's amazing how a little surge of testosterone can completely obliterate your code of morals and your common sense.

As I rode down to the parking garage where my Mercedes was parked the craving for beer hit me once again. I had some at home I knew; a six-pack of Samuel Adams I'd purchased the previous week and had not gotten around to consuming. But despite my fatigue and my horniness, horniness that would be relieved only by my own hand, I did not want to go home just then. An empty house awaited me and the prospect of drinking a few bottles of beer and jerking off to Internet porn did not seem very appealing. Impulsively I decided to drive over to "Precipitation", a local bar a few blocks away. It was a friendly bar patronized mostly by business professionals. It was where my colleagues liked to have a few after-work cocktails and talk shop. Perhaps some of them would be there, even though this was not a standard workday.

I pulled out of the underground parking garage of our building and three minutes later pulled into the bar's parking lot. I clicked the alarm on my car and stuffed the keys into the pocket of my tan slacks, heading towards the door and pushing it open. Cigarette smoke, which was heavy in the air, assaulted my nose and eyes and the sound of Matchbox 20 was issuing from the jukebox. The bar was crowded with people. They were lined up three thick along the oak bar and filled most of the tables. The babble of a hundred different conversations filled the air. The electronic dartboards were all being used, as were the two pool tables and the shuffleboard table. Several couples were dancing on the small dance-floor moving their hips to the beat of the music. A few of them seemed to be engaging in foreplay instead of dancing. I envied them.

I looked around the barroom, paying particular attention to the tables, hoping to spot someone I knew. My eyes tracked through the smoke and locked onto a familiar looking pattern of female attire. It was a short summer dress. Kathy was there! After admiring the visible portions of her legs for a moment I saw that she was talking to two men near the bar, two men that looked quite out of place among the regular clientele. They were most definitely not accountants. Based on their dress they appeared to be construction workers, mechanics, or some other type of blue-collar workers. They wore cut-off T-shirts, faded and dirty blue jeans, and work boots. They had multiple tattoos on their arms. Their faces appeared not to have been shaven in at least three days. Muscles bulged from their arms. Both were smoking cigarettes and staring intently at Kathy.

As I watched, one of them tried to run his hand up the back of her leg. She slapped it away, a gesture that seemed playful but at the same time did not. I caught a glimpse of her face for a moment and noted that she looked scared. What was going on? Had her flirting got a little out of hand?

I continued to watch her from the doorway while I waited for a table to clear. The two men were both taking turns speaking to her. Though I couldn't hear what they were saying, it was obvious that whatever it was was making Kathy nervous and she was taking pains to hide it. Her grins and laughs were too forced and her facial expressions were too phony. Her eyes kept flitting around the room as if looking for help. I became convinced that my original theory had been correct. She had flirted with those two men and was having trouble pulling herself away from it now. Apparently they were not like the prim and proper accountants she usually dealt with. It looked like Kathy had bitten off a little more than she could chew this time.

I wondered for a moment if I should help her. The wise part of my mind was telling me not to. After all, those two men were BIG. They could undoubtedly kick the shit out me of without even having to set their drinks down. Was the little cock-tease worth it?

But fate decided the matter for me. Her eyes locked onto me and came to a halt. An expression of relief showed on her face. I saw her point at me and smile. I saw her mouth my name. She waved frantically for me to come over to her while the two men stared arrogantly in my direction, their faces with more than a little hostility in them.

I hesitated for an instant, the vision of a painful beating at the forefront of my thoughts. I should just turn and walk out of the place, I knew. Kathy had made her bed. Let her lie in it. But I couldn't. Almost against my will my feet began propelling me across the crowded barroom towards the trio. The hostility in the two men's faces increased in magnitude. I wondered if I was going to my death.

"Paul!" Kathy squealed, breaking free of them and rushing towards me. She threw her arms around me and pulled me tight against her body. I felt the push of her breasts against my chest as she did this and smelled the exciting scent of her body. Despite the sense of danger in the air I enjoyed the sensation and returned her embrace, feeling the silky smoothness of her dress under my hands.

She kissed me directly on the lips, mashing her mouth against mine. Her lips were soft and warm, her breath was sweet. I almost forgot about the two men, I was enjoying it so much. Almost.

She kissed my neck for a brief second, giving me tingles up my spine and sending blood rushing to my cock. A second later her lips were near my ear.

"Pretend you're my boyfriend." She whispered softly, frantically. "Please? I'm in trouble here!"

The two men had followed her over to me and were standing intimidatingly behind her, their eyes appraising me like generals looking over a map of territory that was to be conquered. The smaller of the two (which meant he was only six- two and two hundred and twenty pounds or so) took a thoughtful drag off of his smoke.

Kathy broke our embrace and turned to the two of them. "I told you he would be here soon." She said to them. "Lance, Nick, this is Paul, my boyfriend."

Automatically I held out my hand to shake with them. This was a mistake. Lance's grip was nearly enough to break fingers. Nick's was even worse.

"How do you do?" I asked, fighting down a grimace of pain.

They nodded at me arrogantly. "You have a pretty, uh, girlfriend here." Lance told me, his tone one of disbelief. Kathy obviously had not thought out her cover story too much. We were both wearing wedding rings for God's sake. And although Lance and Nick did not appear as if they would be able to figure out any physics equations for you, they had surely noticed that. "She's real friendly, ya know?"

"Yeah." Nick added. "Likes to talk a lot."

I forced myself to grin. "She's quite the flirt, isn't she?" I said, turning to Kathy. "Haven't I told you about talking to strange men in bars?"

"Oh, you know me." Kathy blurted, with perhaps the worst acting I've ever witnessed. "I LOVE to talk to people." She turned to the two men. "It was nice talking to you two. We're gonna go have a drink now. Aren't we Paul?"

"Yeah." I nodded, staring back at the two men. "That's what we're gonna do."

It was Nick who spoke. "You do that." He said. "You and your 'boyfriend' have a good time. We'll just be over here."

With that they sauntered back to their table, but they never took their eyes off of us.

When they were gone Kathy turned to me. "Thank God you showed up." She said, relief evident in her face. "I couldn't get away from them. They don't know when to back down!"

I gave the two men a nervous glance. They were still staring at us. I averted my eyes and turned to Kathy. "I'm not sure that they HAVE backed down." I told her.

She glanced over for a second. "Shit." She mumbled. "Give me a kiss. And make it good. Maybe that will convince them."

I knew that I should not be kissing her. I was married, she was married, and she was my subordinate. But it was in the interests of her safety wasn't it? After thinking it over for a half a second or so, I felt it was justified. My wife would probably even understand. Not that I had any intention of ever telling her about this.

I pulled her to me and put my arms around her, feeling her hot body once more. We looked in each other's eyes for a moment and I saw unmistakable desire in hers. I'm sure she saw the same in mine. Oh well, my mind whispered to me, if I had to do this, was there any harm in enjoying it? I thought not. Our lips came together and met with a kiss. Her tongue darted out hesitantly, sliding into my mouth and meeting mine. We swirled the tips together and then plunged deeper, caressing the inside of each other's oral cavity. My cock hardened instantly in my pants and a strong sense of excited guilt surged through my body. She was the first woman whose tongue I had touched since a year before marriage.

We broke the kiss for an instant and stared at each other once more.

"Good acting." She breathed, her face flushed. "We need to make this very realistic you know."

"Of course." I replied, lowering my mouth to hers once more.

As we exchanged saliva it occurred to me that it would be more realistic if I let my hands roam about her body a little. After all, isn't that what a decent boyfriend would do? Wouldn't want to give ourselves away now, would we? I let my hands slide downward, over the soft, sexy material of her dress until they were cupping the cheeks of her ass. Her butt was firm and alive beneath my hands and I could feel that it was bare flesh beneath the skirt. Was she wearing panties? I squeezed her cheeks, fondling them and she moaned into my mouth, sucking my tongue deep into her. I pulled her against me tighter, grinding my hard cock into her lower stomach. Her arms tightened around my back, pulling me tighter against her. Her soft tits pushed into my chest. Oh the sacrifices I was making for her.

We were both breathless when we broke apart again. Her eyes were shining and her neck had broken out in a red flush.

"Do you think they bought it?" She asked me.

I glanced over. They were still looking at us. "Not yet." I told her. "We'd better play up our part a little more."

As we walked over to the bar to get a drink I put my arm around her, letting my hand drop down to her ass once more. It really was a beautiful ass. Wouldn't any boyfriend constantly want to feel it and touch it? She must have felt the same because she did not try to stop me. On the contrary, she pushed her cheek into my fingers, encouraging me and confirming my conviction that there were no panties covering those cheeks.

We kissed a few more times as we worked our way up to the bar and ordered. I got a Heineken, she got a margarita. We found an empty table and sat down at it, scooting our chairs together as any boyfriend/girlfriend would do.

"They're still looking at us." Kathy reported, glancing sideways at them while sipping out of her drink. "Hopefully they'll lose interest soon and we can get out of here."

"Hopefully." I agreed, edging closer, so that my shoulder was touching hers.

"We'd better give them more acting." She said seriously.

"If we must." I nodded.

We kissed again, sucking on tongues, sucking on lips. I dropped my hand down to her thigh, just above her knee, figuring that would be what a boyfriend would do. Her skin was soft and feminine, almost silky. She'd obviously shaved her legs recently and applied baby oil or something to them. I squeezed and kneaded the flesh, moving my hand upward a little, just under the hem of her skirt. She parted her legs a tad to allow me access.

"You are SUCH a good actor!" She said, kissing my neck and then moving back to my lips.

A slow song came on the jukebox. An oldie but a goodie: "Who's Crying Now?" by Journey. Other couples began to fill the dance floor.

"We should dance." Kathy proclaimed. "All the other couples are dancing. We're supposed to a couple."

"Okay." I agreed enthusiastically. Anything for the cause. I stood up and held out my hand to her.

She took it and we made our way out to the dance floor. As before the purpose of dancing in this establishment seemed to be foreplay. Couples were kissing, grabbing asses and grinding into each other forcefully, only making a minor effort to move with the beat.

"We'd better do what everyone else is doing." She told me, casting a glance at the two men who were still watching us.

"Of course." I nodded, pulling her to me.

I felt every inch of the front of her body against mine as I moved back and forth, wedged in between other couples. Her breasts pushed into my chest. Her thighs pushed into mine, gliding beneath the material of her dress. My cock, which was still turgid and straining for release, ground into her soft stomach. She rotated her body against it as we danced, driving me nearly crazy. My hands dropped down to her ass again, feeling those wonderful cheeks bulging and relaxing with the motions of her hips. I pulled her tighter against my cock as our lips and tongues joined in another kiss.

Our kisses became more passionate as we danced, long, luxurious, frantic tongue sessions of the type that are usually reserved for mid-intercourse. I hadn't kissed my wife like that since before marriage. My dick was now demanding that it be put someplace warm and soft. My balls were beginning to ache softly with built-up sperm.

When the song ended we broke apart, both of us quite flushed. I fancied that I could smell her musk rising into the air around us, but it might have been simple imagination. She cast another glance at the two men.

"They're not looking at us anymore." She whispered breathlessly. "Let's get out of here."

"They're not?" I said, looking for myself and seeing that she'd been correct. They were chatting with some other woman now, not paying us the least bit of attention.

"Come on!" She said, tugging me towards the door. She grabbed her purse off the table as we went by.

I followed behind her, my dick still stiff as iron, my mind trying to tell me that this was what our goal had been. I wasn't disappointed that it was over, was I? We'd just averted a dangerous situation, hadn't we? I'd done a good thing. Helping out someone in need. A successful operation! And I'd been allowed to kiss and feel an object of my fantasies. Semi-legally even. I had no intention of trying to take this further, did I? Did I?

Except for the jumble of parked automobiles, the parking lot was deserted and dark. Cars went by sporadically on the street out front. The night was pleasant with a soft, sweet smelling breeze coming off Puget Sound. A good night to have sex, I thought, walking funny because of my stiff cock. I was so intent upon admiring the cheeks of Kathy's ass as they swayed rapidly in front of me that it took me a moment to notice that we were heading away from my car. She must be parked on the other side of the lot. Oh well, the least I could do is walk her to her car, right? I may not be her 'boyfriend' anymore but it was the manly thing to do.

"Thank you so much Paul." She said, sighing in relief. "I don't know what I would have done if you hadn't shown up." She shook her head, digging through her purse for her keys. "I swear to God I'm not gonna flirt with anyone, ever again."

"I'd at least pick them a little more carefully." I told her as we reached her silver Lexus. She beeped the alarm button and the door locks shot up with a clank. I wanted her badly at that point, vividly remembering what she'd felt like in my arms, how her tongue had felt in my mouth, how her ass had been without panties and how it had felt to my hands. Could I invite her over to my place for a drink? Would she come? She had seemed awfully turned on in the bar by what we were doing. Thoughts of my wife, of marital infidelity, of wedding vows, of divorce were the last things on my mind at that moment. The little head was ruling all.

She opened her door and paused for a moment, looking at me. "I owe you a big one." She told me, leaning forward and giving me a quick peck on the cheek. On the cheek! What the hell was up with that? "I'm gonna get out of here." She said. "And never come back. I swear!" She started to sit down in the car.

"Uh, listen Kathy." I heard myself saying, my mind confused, my body desperate.

"What?" She enquired.

"I was wondering if maybe you'd like to come over to my place for a drink?" I asked. "You know? A little nightcap?"

She looked back at me, her face expressionless. "I'm sorry Paul." She said, shaking her head. "I don't think that's a good idea."

"You don't?"

"No." She answered. "You're my boss, and though I flirt a lot, I don't ever cheat on my husband. I hope I didn't give you the wrong impression with what happened inside, but... " She stopped suddenly, her eyes shifting targets.