Chapter 5

The plaque read "Tamara Belayanova Blondinka - Women's Legal and Fiduciary Services".

I knocked, then stepped in as the latch buzzed.

"Hi," I said, shifting my case from one hand to the other, "My name's Jim; I'm here to fix your computer."

"Oh, thank goodness," the girl at the desk (the black and chrome nameplate said "Kristal") said. "Tomorrow's billing day and Miss Blondinka will be very upset with me if i don't get the invoices out."

"Okay - from what you said on the phone, it shouldn't be too much trouble. Sounds like a bad video card, actually. If it is, half an hour, tops."

I walked around to the end of the desk, and turned the monitor and the keyboard toward me. Sure enough, the image on the screen was badly distorted, exactly as she'd described it on the phone. I ran a few diagnostics, including the digital monitor's self-check, and said "Yep. Video card. Put in a new one and you're ready to fly."

I looked around.

"Ummm - where is the computer?" I asked.

"Oh," she said, with an embarrassed giggle, "Over here," pointing under the desk, and, sure enough, when I looked under there, I saw the computer. I also saw two very nice knees, and two shapely legs leading down from them.

"Okay. Now I need to get at it," I said patiently.

"Oh, my," she giggled, "I am acting like a complete ditz, aren't I? We don't have very many men in the office anyway, let alone handsome ones." She blushed slightly, then blurted out "Not that I mean anything by that, but..."

A pause.

"I'm making it worse, aren't I?" she said. "Babbling like a fool."

"Oh, no," I said with a slight grin. "Pretty little red-haired girls tell me I'm handsome and then say they didn't mean anything by it, every day..."

"Ooooh." She blushed deeply. "I think... you'd better fix the computer," she said.

"What's the matter?" I asked, with a wider grin. "Don't you want to play any more?"

She had begun to turn away to hide her blush; now she looked back sidelong, through the curtain of her auburn hair that had fallen forward as she moved.

"I think you are probably a Bad Man," she said with conviction (and an impish grin), "and my mommy told me never to play a Bad Man's game by his rules.

"I think you had better fix the computer before one of us says something that's too embarrassing to survive."

With that, she scooted her chair back from the desk and turned it sideways, giving me room to kneel down and get at the computer. As I began to work, I was conscious of her at my back, as I caught occasional whiffs of her scent - not perfume, just good soap and clean girl.

Glancing her way, I could see that the nice calves were cased in pretty, exremely sheer, white hose, and the shoes on her feet were shiny red pumps with high stiletto fuck-me heels - rather incongruous for a secretary/receptionist in a law firm that specialised in women's issues and sex-discrimination cases.

Pulling the computer out a ways to give me room, I backed up and bumped the back of my head and neck against her knees.

"Oh, sorry," I said.

"Oh," she said, with a breathy little laugh, "that's okay."

I glanced quickly at her over my shoulder, then got to work.

"Okay," I said, tightening the last screw, "that looks like it."

Turning around, I was looking straight at her knees - which were not exactly pressed together. In fact, I could see almost all the way up her skirt to her crotch; definitely far enough to realise that the white hose were the old-fashioned kind, held up by a garter belt.

Embarrassedly, I lifted my eyes, in time to see her jerk a hand down, semingly from the close vicinity of her breast. It was suddenly obvious that she was braless under her silk blouse, a blouse that was sufficiently opaque for office wear, but of light and pliable enough material that her nipples were claerly visible in outline.

I sat for a second, until the beep of the computer booting sounded, then slowly got up from the floor glancing at the screen that was now lighting up with a good image.

With a sudden gasp, cheeks pink again, she made a sudden grab for the mouse, as if it were important to do something with the computer very quickly.

When she did, her chair tipped forward, and she slipped out of it and fell against me. Grabbing her to keep her from crashing to the floor, I somehow wound up with one hand on her hip and one firmly clutching her left breast. With a semi-stiff nipple poking into my palm through the thin cloth.

And then the Windows desktop came up, and the reason she wanted to stop it became clear; one might say "Kristal clear".

The wallpaper was a very clear image of Kristal. On her hands and knees.

Nude.

With a statuesque blonde woman wearing a tight blue satin corset and black hose fucking her with a strap-on.

With an expression that said she was enjoying every inch of the big black plastic cock.

I looked at the screen. Then I looked at Kristal, who had hidden her face in my shoulder. Then I looked down at my hand on her firm, perfect tit.

Then I began to stroke and gently squeeze the warm globe, and felt her nipple becoming more erect, firmer, under my palm.

Using my grip on her chest, I pushed her back, looking into her flushed face. Her eyes seemed a bit soft, and she ran the tip of her tongue along her lips.

"Ummm," she breathed, pushing weakly at my chest, "I should, ummm, get up..."

"Do you really want to?" I asked, and tugged her forward with the hand on her hip (and on her butt, too), until she was sitting on my lap.

I slipped my hand forward, around her hip, along her thigh to the hem of her knee-length skirt, and then back upward, along the warm, nylon-covered flesh of her inner thigh.