“May I?” His baritone voice was strong and calm. He had seized her precious beverage and blocked her path, invading her space.

The harried blonde executive had hipped open the door, but as it swung back, it dislodged the strap of her large shoulder bag, threatening to spill the caramel latte over her and the bag. Instant recognition and two quick steps had allowed him to achieve the too-close position, one foot propping the door while a steady hand rescued the container of hot liquid.

With a breath, she regained her poise, shrugged the strap back in place, and retrieved her coffee. Eyes met only long enough to make a memory of her crystal blues in his burnt umbers—and vice versa.

“Thank you!” Her lyrical contralto was enough reward for his momentary, timely, intervention. With not quite a flourish, he stood aside so she could proceed to the elevator that took her to the top floor.

They had seen each other in the building. Her corner office was on the top floor from which she ran her company; his cubicle warren was on the third floor from which he prospected for customers around the city.

Sarah Lawrence was president of Lawrence Enterprises, which occupied the top half of the building. Brett thought she was regal—that seemed the right word—her fine features and graceful figure enrobed with elegant fashion and subtle cosmetics. She had observed the anonymous earnest gentleman—in the classic sense—his powerful frame and confident manner exceeding his ordinary but well-maintained attire.

After that day, there was always recognition in their encounters, even if it was not expressed audibly. An elevator ride shared for only three floors provided time for little more than polite smiles, furtive glances, and whiffs of perfume or cologne. On his floor, she would linger on his backside as he exited. In the lobby, he would do the same as he let her go first.

When she left for the day, she found herself hoping the elevator would pause at his floor in its descent. If it did, but not for him, it was a disappointment. In the morning, he would linger in the lobby, hoping she would arrive, resenting anyone else who shared their brief upward journey.

When a few weeks of asynchrony would separate them, two pulses would quicken when they saw each other again. It was after a particularly long such period that Brett decided to try to provoke a response. He dropped a business card as he got off on his floor, but his heart sank when the door closed without her saying anything.

Sarah noticed the small rectangle only when she reached her floor. “Brett Kent,” she read his name aloud, liking the sound of it. She would have kept it assuming he wouldn’t miss it, except that it had a date, time, address, and phone number written on the back. Thinking it might be important, she had her assistant return it to him.

Brett noticed the young woman enter the room even before he heard her call his name. “You dropped this in the elevator,” she explained.

“Thanks so much. I wondered where that went.” Having seen the perky redhead in the building before, he suppressed his disappointment at missing his target and figured he would take the opportunity to learn her name. He tried to disarm her business-like demeanor with a broad smile. “Do you work in the building?”

“I’m Ms. Lawrence’s assistant. She asked me to return it to you.” She sounded like the task was beneath her pay grade.

“Tell her I said thanks!” he called to the retreating figure, grinning that the miss had turned out to be a hit.

A few weeks later, it was almost quitting time when the text message from an unfamiliar number said, “This is Sarah Lawrence.” When his phone rang from the same number, he answered.

“Mr. Kent, it’s Sarah Lawrence. I know we haven’t been formally introduced, but I’ve seen you so many times in the elevator, I feel like I know you. May I call you Brett?” He warmed to hear her say his name.

“Of course, Ms. Lawrence,” he said.

“Sarah, please!” she corrected. “If you have an hour right now, you could help me with something unusual. I need to get to the Congress Plaza Hotel without any of my employees seeing me. I hope you’re up for a little cloak-and-dagger.” Her lilting voice was irresistible.

“I don’t have my trench coat today,” he reflected her spirit, “but I’ll do what I can.”

“Excellent! Meet me by the rear fire door on your floor,” she said and hung up.

The fire escape stairwell had doors that allowed people to exit but not enter each floor. She walked down from the tenth floor and he opened the third-floor door to let her in. He almost didn’t recognize her wearing a long, hooded overcoat, suitable for a Chicago winter but unneeded this time of year.

“No jokes about my cloak,” she quipped. “And we won’t need a dagger. I don’t want anyone to see me in this,” she opened the coat.

There was no way for Brett to mask his surprise. Unlike her usual business attire, Sarah wore an iconic “little black dress”. The neckline scooped low to display a surprising amount of cleavage. The hemline was high enough to reveal a generous portion of her athletic thighs.

Leading him back into the stairwell, she disclosed the plot. “We are having a large company party downtown. To encourage employees to have a good time, I always dress a little outrageously and want my entrance to be a surprise. Last year, unfortunately, someone sent out a picture of me prematurely and everyone had seen it before I arrived. I’m sure they have staked out my car, but if you could get me to the hotel loading dock, my assistant—Allison, you met her—will let me sneak into the ballroom.”

He picked her up in his undistinguished sedan. They drew no attention from those watching her luxury sports car. When he parked at the back of the hotel, she leaned toward him. Her cowl brushed against his face, making him turn toward her, so what was intended as a peck on the cheek landed half on his mouth. She hesitated long enough for him to turn into her, aligning their lips in a brief kiss.

“Thank you so much!” she grinned. The unexpected escalation added to her glee that her plan had worked—on both levels.

“I enjoyed it,” he winked. Sarah hopped out of the car and disappeared into the building. As he drove home, Brett imagined her employees’ reaction when she unveiled herself. He wondered how recently and on what other occasions she might have worn that dress.

A week later, Allison arrived with an envelope. “Mr. Kent,” was all she said as she handed it to him.

He smiled broadly and said, “Thank you,” but the second word hit her backside as she quickly turned and left.

It had a Lawrence Enterprises return address but was otherwise blank. Inside were a handwritten note and two tickets to the hottest show in town.

Thank you for your assistance with my company event. I’m not able to use these tickets and thought you might like them. Enjoy the show! Sarah

Knowing the hot musical had been sold out for months, he whistled when he saw the seats were fourth-row center. Running through the women he had dated recently to decide who he should share this boon with, he landed on Rachel. So far, they had only progressed as far as car sex—he would lick and finger her to orgasm and she would give him a quick blowjob. Dinner and this show should earn him a ticket to her bedroom for full sex.

Rachel was tall and curvy with long dark hair and sultry looks. They were more friends-with-benefits than lovers, but Brett hoped the date would upgrade their benefits package. After an expensive dinner, she hugged him excitedly and kissed him on the cheek as they waited in their seats for the show to start.

People in the row stood up to allow a couple to get to the two empty seats next to Rachel. When Brett turned to look, he was stunned to see Sarah approaching. Before he could react, she raised a finger to her lips to warn him not to say anything. Feeling her body brush against his as she moved past him was electric. Did she lean back as she passed? Did he lean forward? The momentary contact left them each wondering about the other’s action—and their own.

This was yet another version of Sarah—stylish, but not professional. Her plum dress was above the knee and her arms and shoulders were bare. The neckline never reached cleavage but left enough skin for the dramatic necklace that featured purple gemstones. The complimentary earrings sparkled. He suspected one of them was worth more than his car.

He struggled not to look at her too much. Fortunately, Rachel was in the same direction, so he could get glimpses when he turned that way.

When Sarah talked to her distinguished companion, she also saw past him to look at Brett. Her grin was not out of context in anticipation of the show, but she was enjoying the surprise she had caused and how he was checking her out. Of course, she hadn’t said she wasn’t going to be at the show, but she knew he would assume she had given him the tickets because she couldn’t attend.

The lights dimmed and the music started. Although it was Rachel’s arm against his, Brett felt like he was with Sarah. He enjoyed hearing her nearby laughter. Stealing glances in the dark, he caught her doing the same.

When the show ended, as they stood to leave, Rachel gave him a long hug, letting his eyes meet Sarah’s over her shoulder. If his date noticed the bulge in his pants, she assumed she was the sole cause. The true inspiration beamed a genuine smile in his direction.

As predicted, Brett made it into Rachel’s bed. It went so well, she regretted not admitting him sooner. She and the other women he dated enjoyed their time with him, clothed or naked, as did he with them. Despite those regular encounters, Sarah had settled into a special spot in his psyche. Her apparent interest in him was encouragingly unexpected. 

As the seasons changed, it was getting dark earlier, so he would run at lunchtime instead of after work. One day, Sarah noticed him jogging in the street as she drove back to her office. In shorts and a tank top, his muscular and hairy arms and legs conveyed a more mature aspect than did his off-the-rack suits.

Stopped at a traffic light, she watched him lope closer. His movement was fluid, arms and legs synchronized, with no wasted energy. Heading back to their building, she assumed he was at the end of his run, but he did not look tired. Wanting a better view, she looked for a place to pull over so she could watch him go by. Alas, the light changed and the guy behind her blew his horn when she didn’t start going.

So she drove her car to her reserved space but stayed in it, waiting for him to arrive. When he noticed her, she pretended to be on the phone; he did an extra lap around the parking lot, exposing her ruse. Giving up, she headed toward the lobby and he sprinted to follow her in.

“Do you do this often?” she asked when they were alone in the elevator. His body glowed from his exertion, and she surreptitiously inhaled his scent of clean sweat.

“Because the days get shorter this time of year, lunch is the best time for me to run. Fortunately, there’s a shower in the third-floor bathroom.” He felt her eyes on him but tried not to react. He knew some women didn’t care for hairy men, but he wasn’t going to spend his time fighting with his genetics.

“Looks like it keeps you in good shape,” she commented as he exited on his floor.

“Thanks for noticing,” he grinned over his shoulder as the doors shut.

The bulletin board in the lobby had a variety of advertisements for the general public. One was for an art show at a local gallery, not the usual kind of flyer for that spot. When he saw that one of the artists was named Amanda Lawrence, he confirmed that it was Sarah’s daughter.

Brett knew he had to go, hoping to get an opportunity for a conversation that lasted more than four sentences. There were several dozen people in the main room where they staged the show, with more wandering the maze of other rooms with other parts of their collection. He grabbed a glass of wine and strolled around looking at the works on the walls.

Amanda was surrounded by a small crowd. Although recognizable as a younger version of her mother, her tattoos, piercings, and avant-garde hair demonstrated that she had taken a different path. Her art was equally dramatic: digital photographs that were altered and composed to make striking images.

One that particularly appealed to him showed a female figure, crouched cat-like. Although nude, she faced away. A long braid of dark hair ran down her back, looking almost like an exposed spine. It continued between her butt cheeks, extending beyond like a tail. She stalked an unsuspecting male figure, but the ambiguity of the perspective meant you couldn’t tell if he was mouse-sized and near, with the woman ready to pounce like a cat, or human-sized and distant, with the woman poised to chase like a cheetah.

Touring the exhibition, he finally spotted Sarah on the other side of the room, standing close to a well-dressed man, who wasn’t the guy from the show. They seemed inseparable, so he decided not to approach her. About to duck out, he passed that picture again and decided to buy it. He could have purchased a less expensive item just to have something to mention the next time he and Sarah were alone, but that image called to him somehow.

Finding an employee, Brett concluded the purchase, watching him put a ‘sold’ sticker on the picture. He would pick it up another day.

“That’s me,” a whisper came from behind, her breath warm on his ear. It was Sarah! “It’s a wig, of course, and some digital alteration, but it’s mostly me.”

“If I’d known it was someone famous, I would have offered twice the price,” he chuckled, resisting the temptation to compare her physique to the one depicted.

“It’s one of her earlier works. I saved her the cost of a model,” she explained quietly.

“Well, I think this one has definitely captured something special, and I thought so even when it was just an anonymous backside.”

They shared a blush.

Standing so close, he felt the vibe she was giving off. Without thinking of reasons why he shouldn’t, he asked, “Would you like to go someplace quieter?”

Her smile made his heart leap, but her words were cold water. “I can’t. I’m here with Amanda’s father—my ex,” she said. He nodded, accepting his fate, but she unexpectedly added, “Could I get a rain check?”

A month later, there was a crowd in the lobby. From the cameras and microphones, he guessed it was reporters; a few extra security guards were keeping them at bay. Flanked by a couple of serious guys in expensive suits, Sarah made way through the group, ignoring those calling her name, and entered the elevator.

Brett was finally able to push his way to a guard who looked at his employee badge and let him pass. In his cubicle, he checked the news. There were multiple speculations about the upstairs company but he couldn’t tell which if any might be true.

He had no idea what it meant. but felt bad for Sarah and didn’t expect to see her smiling face anytime soon. It was around quitting time when she called. “Can I use that raincheck? I need to avoid the reporters. They’ll be watching the lobby and my car.”

“I’ll pick you up by the fire door,” he said. When he pulled up, she dragged a carry-on bag to his car, got in, and bent down out of view.

“Is there a bar near where you live? Someplace small, nothing fancy, where we could have a drink in private,” she suggested. She sat up and relaxed a little as he drove. “It’s been a rough day and I need a break,” she sighed heavily.

The dimly-lit watering hole was deserted this early. She ordered a whisky sour and a shot from the bartender and disappeared into a booth in the corner. Requesting the same, he juggled the four glasses and joined her. They clinked their shot glasses and downed the straight liquor to get a head start before they sipped their mixed drinks.

“I can’t talk about anything,” she said. “I don’t want to and with you, I won’t be tempted to.” She looked concerned. “I hope that doesn’t bother you. I need an escape for a while, to clear my head and regain my balance.”

His pipe dream extrapolated from the fact that she brought a suitcase and wanted a bar close to his apartment.

“I wish you weren’t having this problem, but I’m happy to help,” he smiled sympathetically. “I’m just glad for the chance to spend more than an elevator ride with you.” She cracked a smile and he grinned.

“Why is that?” she asked seriously. He was suddenly embarrassed by her directness and took a long sip as he tried to compose an answer. He hadn’t explicitly thought about it, so his words were as much a surprise to him as they were to her.

“Well…,” he decided honesty rather than humor was called for, “someday I hope I can be with a woman like you. Smart, accomplished, classy…” Her eyes pierced his façade. “Beautiful and sexy, too, of course,” he tried to recover.

“Of course,” she acknowledged the compliments. She looked wistful. “I understand the distance between us,” she reached out and put her hand on his, sending a current through them both for a moment. “Sometimes I wish I could return to the days before I had status and responsibilities and was free to take risks in life and love.”

Brett hadn’t considered that there might be something about his lifestyle that she would prefer.

“Your date at the show was hot,” she smiled knowingly. “I bet she was one of several candidates and that she showed her appreciation.”

His face flushed both from how well Sarah seemed to know him and the memory of that night with Rachel.

“Circumstances may let us each get a taste of what we long for,” she continued. He sat up straight like a puppy hoping for a treat. “But just a taste. I cannot abandon the life I have built, nor would I deprive you of the freedom you now enjoy.”

“I understand.” He settled back, not really understanding, but discovering reality was more complex than daydreams.

“I need to clear my mind and maintain my perspective over the next few days, and I hope you will help me do that,” she explained. “You can also be useful in a practical way by keeping me away from prying eyes. I will reimburse you for your expenses, but cannot legally pay you for your efforts—except with my companionship.”

Considering that more than adequate compensation, his wide grin gave her all the consent she needed.

She finished her drink. “Give me your phone. I need to make a hotel reservation. I assume you have a decent credit limit on your card.”

He nodded, handing it to her and emptying his glass. After a few minutes, she returned it and rose to leave.

Waiting until he was on his feet, she pulled him to her for a kiss that started innocent but grew more serious. It surprised him, but he responded automatically. Her body against his inspired his cock to swell and encouraged his tongue to meet hers as they mashed their lips together.

Too soon, she broke, cooing, “Thank you, Brett.” As she led the way back out into daylight, she turned over her shoulder and remarked. “My outlook is improving already.”

As she directed, he stopped at his apartment to pack clothes for the weekend into a similar overnight bag before proceeding to the Drake Hotel, a downtown high-rise. The reservation she had made in his name was for the penthouse suite. It included a large room with living room furniture and a table for twelve suitable for dinner or meetings. Large windows looked out on the waterfront.

On either side were adjoining guest rooms that could be booked separately but were all part of his reservation. She unpacked her stuff in one and indicated he should take the other.

“Tomorrow and Sunday, I will be meeting with people here. No one in the hotel will know I’m here or that anything is going on. Monday morning, however things turn out, we’ll check out and go back to our previous lives.” She had moved closer to him and put her arms around his waist.

“Tonight and—after business is finished—tomorrow and Sunday will be for us. You’ll be stuck in your room all day in case there are any issues with the hotel, but I assume you can find ways to amuse yourself. And we…,” she held his face and smooched him on the lips; “can have…,” she kissed his cheek; “that taste…,” she kissed the other cheek; “of each other.” She closed with a long, passionate kiss full on his lips.

Brett was in a daze—thrilled by what was happening but unsure of the limits. He was ready to go all-in, but that was clearly not Sarah’s wish.

They ordered an elegant dinner from room service. Still in their business attire, it was like a first date. They talked about their backgrounds, interests and families. He revealed his career aspirations and she talked about how she got to where she was but said nothing about her future.

When they finished dessert Sarah began to rise, saying, “This was lovely.”

Brett jumped up to pull her chair. “May I walk you home?” he asked hopefully.

“Okay,” she laughed, “but I can’t invite you in. I still have some preparation to do for tomorrow.”

With arms around each other’s waist, they walked to the connecting door to her room.

The long kiss with wandering hands finally made her gently push him away. “I’ll get in trouble if my parents catch us,” she giggled. Blowing a kiss, she closed the door, leaving him torn between giddiness at what they had done and disappointment at what they had not.

The sports news show ended and he had decided to call it a night when he heard a soft knock on the door to the other room.

“Brett? Are you awake?” Sarah called.

He had been lounging only in his boxer briefs, so he stood behind the door as he cracked it open. She was wearing one of the plush hotel robes.

“I was looking in my minibar for something to help me sleep. I thought you might have what I need,” she teased. Untying the loose belt, she let the robe fall open, showing only her pale skin from her neck to her inner thighs.

Brett silently shouted for joy as he opened the door wide and invited her in. She turned into his arms as he closed the door. Reaching inside the robe, his hands on her naked back pulled her breasts against his chest. Her hand palmed his expanding bulge.

“This should do the trick.” She gave it a squeeze, then slipped her fingers inside the waistband and pushed his underwear down. Her eyes grew wide when she saw the bulb-ended rod standing out from the thicket of dark hair. “Lie down, let me look at you,” she trilled with anticipation.

Opening the bed, he stretched out on the cool sheet as she stood next to him and stared at his body. “I’ve wanted to see it all since that first time I saw you jogging. I love hairy men,” she confessed. “I remember that day, the way your sweaty body looked and smelled. I had no trouble getting to sleep that night!”  

It wasn’t obvious who blushed deeper.

Her words inflated his organ to what he thought was full length, but when she shrugged the robe onto the floor, he throbbed to new dimensions.

Her pale skin tone and slim build evoked a marble statue. Shapely legs met at a hairless crotch with only a hint of a divide. Pear-shaped breasts rested apart on her chest but were ample enough to be shaped and enhanced by a push-up bra into the cleavage he recalled from that day. He unconsciously licked his lips at the sight.

“It’s ironic,” her voice was dreamy as she ran her fingers over his hairy chest and thighs. “I’m hairless from nose to toes,” she chuckled at the unplanned rhyme. “Shaven was the fashion when I was younger,” a hand gestured to her mound. “Rather than deal with the annoyance of doing legs, armpits, and elsewhere over and over, I had it all zapped off. I could barely afford it, but considering how much time and money to deal with it I’ve saved since then, it might be the best investment I ever made!”

Her fingers tangled in his pubes—half tickling, half making his genitals pulse with heat. “But I prefer an un-manscaped man. Seeing a cock rise above the thick underbrush makes me want to—”

She didn’t finish the sentence because her mouth was full. Bending over, she opened wide and didn’t seal her lips until her nose pressed into his fur. When her tongue tasted his sausage, her watering mouth made it slick as she slowly moved up and down.

Things moved so fast, all Brett could do was respond, one hand stroking her hair; the other, her back. In a corner of his mind, it felt improper—but thrilling—that the woman he idolized would be doing this to him. He wanted to do something for her, but he didn’t want to stop what she was doing.

Her hand wrapped around his shaft and took over pumping when she lifted her head. Reaching to the floor for a moment, she stood to display the motive for the maneuver—a rubber she had retrieved from the pocket of her robe. Her left hand unwilling to release his penis, she tore it open with her teeth and her free hand and quickly installed it.

He reached for her, wanting to reciprocate somehow, but she pressed on his chest. “Let me…,” was all she said. He scooted to the middle of the bed where she pointed and she climbed on, kneeling astride him.

Brett looked up to see Sarah’s face as he never had before. No furtive glance in the elevator, there was an intensity and hunger in her visage. She leaned forward and his hands naturally cupped her dangling tits. Between their legs, she stirred her folds with his dick before aiming it and leaning back onto it.

Only years of practice kept him from immediately exploding when her heat fully engulfed him. Satisfied just to feel him inside her, she sat still, stroking his hairy muscular chest while he massaged her smooth soft spheres. In the calm before the storm, she leaned to kiss him, going from sweet to passionate to carnal as their bodies began to move instinctively.

Deftly she shifted to a squat and began to ride him. Her boobs danced out of reach so he grabbed her ass. After a dozen or two bounces she would lean forward and grind for a bit before returning to her posting movement. Their ardor climbed, each step delivering a foretaste and a thirst for more.

Her plaintive whimper as she squirmed her clit against his shaft sounded unexpected; she immediately switched to feverish bouncing.

“I’m gonna cum,” she groaned, but he didn’t need the bulletin. Her pale chest was flushed pink and her nipples and areolas, stiff. She gasped erratically and he tightened his grip on her butt to keep her on target.

Sarah’s eyes looked through him as the primal pleasure suppressed rational thought. Enthralled by the sight and sound of her enraptured body, Brett’s crescendo paused. She slowed until, with three final sighs, she leaned forward onto her knees and slumped onto him.

He hugged her gently, feeling her shiver as the echoes of pleasure fluttered through her body. His cock, still held in her hot firm grip, twitched urging him to seek his own release. But he was too happy sharing the experience of her orgasm to disrupt it.

For a dozen breaths, she rested on him—a warm, damp, living quilt. Rousing, she sighed, “That’s just what I needed.” She kissed him and began to move her hips as her mouth sucked his lips. “Your turn,” she smirked as she rose on her arms, lifting and dropping her ass when she felt him return to rigidity.

It wasn’t long before he was thrusting upward to meet her and racing to his peak. He chanted his grunts, higher and faster, timed with the slap of her flesh landing on his. His long moan heralded his eruption, his voice pulsing with each spurt of ecstasy. She didn’t slow until he seized her butt, pulling her tight, wanting her to feel his spasming cock deep inside her.

Kisses and grateful compliments were exchanged as they floated together. When she rolled off him, he slipped off the well-filled sheath before spooning her, drawing the bedding over them, and turning off the light.

She woke first and kissed him awake. “I have to get ready. Room service will bring coffee and pastries, so you can grab something before the others arrive. You should get dressed. I doubt anyone would recognize you, but you should stay out of sight. I’ll give you our lunch and dinner orders and you can have whatever you like in your room.”

Standing, she bent to give him a reluctant good-bye kiss, stroking his chest and briefly fondling his morning wood. “I don’t know how late we will go, or how tired I’ll be, but…,” she sighed.

“I’ll be here for whatever you need,” he smiled reassuringly, taking the liberty of slipping a hand inside her robe to fondle her breast.

“Enough delightful distractions, time for serious business,” she laughed as she turned and left.

He couldn’t tell exactly what was going on in that room, but the lunch and dinner orders were for nine. Adjoining rooms have a door on each side; he kept his open so occasionally arguing voices were loud enough to be heard, although only indistinctly. It was around ten that Sarah opened the door.

“Have room service come and clean up,” she gestured to the remains of dinner service, then returned to her laptop on the table.

He made the call, then stood behind her. “Don’t worry, I have my eyes closed,” he teased, feigning blindly locating her.

Stroking her back through her silk blouse—she had doffed her blazer and kicked off her shoes—he could feel the stress in her neck and shoulders. She moaned softly, leaning into his massage.

“Let me tempt you to take a break,” he said as room service arrived. Lifting her hand from the keys, he led her to the couch, where the attendant handed them two glasses.

“It’s a chocolate martini,” he answered her puzzled look.

“That’s tasty,” she said after taking a sip. “It takes me back to when we would try every concoction the bartender knew how to make.”

He matched her sip for sip, then set the empty glasses on the table. Gently turning her head, he shared the taste of chocolate lips and tongue. While mouths communicated without words, hands, on autopilot, unveiled and caressed chests. Discovering her bra had a clasp in front, he released her boobs, thumbing her areola as he cupped a soft handful.

“I’m afraid I don’t have time for you tonight,” she lamented. “I’m worn out and I have to review the numbers and terms and….” His lips on her nipple kept her from completing the thought.

“I think you need to take some time for yourself,” he whispered, breath warm on her neck. Gently stroking her cheek, his eyes in hers affirming his sincerity, he reminded her, “You wanted me around to help you keep your perspective. Oh, perhaps the answer is in your spreadsheets and documents if you could only spend a few more hours poring over them. But just maybe putting that aside for a while will give you a chance to decide what really matters to you.”

For the first time, he saw uncertainty in her face, not just whether to dismiss his overture, but whether there was a solution to the problems that drove her to be there this weekend. She hadn’t brought him along to come up with an answer, but he could give her a respite and a restart.

“Let me…,” he replayed her words from the night before, then kissed her sweetly. Rising and taking her hand, he stood her up, then ducked under her arm and lifted her off her feet.

Sarah gasped in surprise, first thinking she was falling. But his strong arms behind her back and knees deftly supported her and she reflexively wrapped her arms around his neck. He carried her to her room standing her next to her bed.

Kneeling, he unfastened her skirt and let it fall. Tugging her panties and pantyhose down, he helped her step out of the puddle of clothes. He couldn’t resist briefly kissing her porcelain midriff and below, hinting at what was to come without beginning it.

Throwing open the bedding, he lifted her upper garments off her arms, then scooped her onto the bed. She looked apprehensive, but he decided words would only engage the wrong part of her mind. He simply leaned over her to kiss her, while his hand roamed down her torso.

His right hand stroked her hair and face while his left moved lower. Mouth followed, pausing to tend to her breasts. A soft moan seemed to unlock her thighs, which parted slightly as his fingers arrived. Noticing that she had closed her eyes, he moved onto the bed between her legs, his right hand maintaining contact.

With the worship that her exquisite architecture justified, he nuzzled her smooth valley, enjoying the warm softness on his cheeks. Kissing belly and inner thighs, he gradually tightened the perimeter until his lips reached her vulva. His tongue emerged by degrees, tracing the boundaries before daring to probe deeper.

She bent her knees a bit, drawing herself open. He politely accepted the invitation, gently tonguing her thin inner lips. The wrong kind of tension gradually faded from her body and he waited before trying to replace it with the right kind.

Exploring her folds, sampling her textures, he was in no hurry. Subtle shifting of her limbs guided his progress. He was reassured to taste fresh nectar when he ventured lower. His imagination could not match the reality of her flooding his senses.

Lips and tongue slithered over flesh slickened by both of them. He circled her dripping portal with a finger before insinuating the tip. Matching the increasing directness with which he addressed her most sensitive spot, he dared to probe deeper. Her sounds encouraged him without asking for a change in strategy.

Brett could not have been happier, nestled between the thighs—which would occasionally close when a pulse of excitement rippled through her—of his dream woman. Applying his experience and skills, patience, and sensitivity, he was confident he could give her the gratification she deserved. That was all the reward he sought at that moment.

Sarah had been content to accept his ministrations rather than direct them. She expressed no complaint as he escalated until two fingers were fucking her cunt while lips sucked and tongue danced with her throbbing clit. Her hands clasped his head and her butt tried to lift off the mattress as she reached her peak.

A long, loud “Oooh!” was accompanied by a whole-body spasm. He applied the increased pressure that her hands demanded as his tongue scrubbed her nub. Her legs closed on his ears, muffling the sounds of her ecstasy, but he had no doubt about it. When she finally opened them again, he stopped his poking and slowed his slurping as she became still and silent.

He had kicked off his shoes but was otherwise clothed. Standing on the bed, he looked down at her body, her spread pussy, slack face, and sighing chest flushed from her orgasm. He tossed his shirt and took down his pants. Retrieving a square foil packet before discarding them, he dressed his wagging pole.

Sarah’s eyes regained focus at the sight of it. Seeing his powerful, hairy physique tower over her reignited the hunger that had so recently and so wonderfully been sated. His eyes seemed to glow with his version of that desire. Languid from her climax, she could only surrender to him.

Kneeling between her legs, he kissed her mouth, the press of his hairy chest resurrecting her nipples. His dangling rod poked randomly between her legs, making her quake in anticipation. Straightening up on his arms, he could see the yearning in her eyes. Never before had he felt superior to her in any way, but surging hormones changed his attitude.

Taste this! he thought, recalling and—at that moment—resenting her limitation of his fantasies. Leaning on one arm, he used the other hand to stir her still damp flesh with his pulsing probe. Her mouth shaped a silent “oh” as he breached her entrance.

Her cunt, slick and swollen from recent use, swallowed him easily. With slow, deep strokes, he warmed his full length, pressing his balls against her taint when he paused at maximum penetration.

Gradually moving faster, he settled into a moderate pace, matching his growing excitement with hers. Delivering a rapid barrage made her mewl, but he slowed, wanting to make it last.

Pressing her body into the mattress, he squirmed as he kissed her, loving the feel of her softness beneath him. Then he rose up again for a burst. Her face contorted in the right kind of tension. But he left her wanting more when he returned to slower, deeper penetration.

He didn’t ignore the guidance of her gasps and sighs and hands on his waist, but he had his own agenda. After a few cycles, she adapted to his changing rhythms and was ready when another flurry of strokes arrived.

Sensing her and his own proximity to the edge, he nonetheless stopped short. She writhed in frustration, but he bent to kiss all over her face. He would take care of her needs.

The next time he accelerated from normal to fast, he sang, “Cum with me, Sarah.”

Whether the previous pause had left her close or she didn’t want to be left hanging again, she raced to her explosion. Her hands stretched her knees wider, wanting to absorb every impact.

“Fuck me, Brett,” she groaned. “Fuck me, you hairy beast!”

Her words surprised him; they were her last as she held her breath. On another day, he would have held back to be sure she was across the line before crossing it himself, but he was committed for better or worse. Thrusting into her, he could no longer suppress the blast of pressure from his groin.

The staccato grunts of his eruption were appropriate for a beast as he continued pounding. The beautiful agony that wracked her face proved she had joined him in euphoria.

Together they danced as if jolted by electricity. Overwhelmed brains lost thought other than recognition of the sensations and communion with the person to whom they were joined. With legs and arms, she pulled him down to her, joyfully imprisoned by his weight. The further encirclement held him fast in a grasp he had no desire to escape.

When exhilaration ebbed and sweat cooled, they rolled on their sides. As he dispensed with the condom, he mused how inside and out were coated with the respective fruit of their lovemaking. Covering themselves, they fell asleep entangled. Around two, Brett woke with Sarah snoring quietly. He slipped out, supposing she would wake at her usual time, but setting his alarm early so he could be sure she didn’t oversleep. She was already dressed and at her computer when he checked on her.

The day passed with similar lunch and dinner orders. At nine, Sarah opened the door and stepped into his room, closing the door behind her. Brett rose to embrace her but she raised a hand to stop him.

“My assistant, Allison, is still here. She’s going to take me back to my office. We have to prepare a press announcement for the morning,” she explained. “I can’t thank you enough for what you did for me this weekend,” her eyes welled up with emotion.

“Your, uh, companionship was more than adequate compensation,” he smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but his voice caught with the realization that the holiday was over.

“Stay and have breakfast if you like, just be out by checkout time. Send me a copy of the bill.” She seemed to want to say more but didn’t. As she opened the door to leave, she turned and giggled, “Guess I’ll see you in the elevator sometime.”

Although he did spend the night and had breakfast the next day, Brett had to go to work Monday as usual. While he packed, there was a business news show on TV.

“There was a surprising development announced this morning in the attempted hostile takeover of Lawrence Enterprises by GlobalCo,” the anchor reported. As he spoke, silent video showed Sarah talking to reporters. “Over the weekend, Lawrence agreed to merge with Midwest Industries, which had a poison pill provision that made it infeasible for GlobalCo to acquire it. Although Midwest was substantially larger, Lawrence founder and CEO Sarah Lawrence will become the head of the combined company.”

With a graphic of the new corporate logo by her shoulder, the co-anchor continued, “Somewhat surprising, the new company will be called ‘Lawrence Midwest’. In what may be an unprecedented move, Ms. Lawrence reportedly agreed to surrender twenty percent of the stock in her company to convince Midwest to take her name.”

The first anchor was incredulous. “I guess for some people, it isn’t only about the money.”