Dedication: This story is just a bit of fun and is respectfully dedicated to all the tireless story checkers on Lush, whose hard work makes this site possible and who have to put with rubbish like this every day. Also, thanks must go to Fugly, whose story "Bag of Lush All Sorts" was the inspiration for this piece.

I was in only my second month at Global Biofuels and still finding my way around the organisation. As the head of procurement in a modern, forward-thinking, ethical company, I had to work closely with the Director of Governance, Cat Holmes - and that's where the problems started.

I was fixated with her - her striking looks, the way she carried herself - I lusted after her. I needed to have sex with Cat, I needed to fuck our DoG.

"You're the rape guy, right?" she enquired at our first meeting.

"Yes, it's my job to acquire oilseed rape for our biodiesel division," I stammered - disarmed by her beauty and poise. We were at a senior management team-building day - constructing rafts out of oil drums and driftwood. Bad enough at the best of times but in the middle of February this was employee abuse! I soon discovered that we were both totally unwilling participants in this exercise and we joked about escaping it. I wanted nothing more than to run away with her; even in a cagoule and sturdy walking boots she had an intoxicating effect on me.

Afterwards, I offered her a lift back in my 1958 Morris Minor. Her eyes lit up when she saw its classic lines. "Minors turn me on so much," she enthused. "When I see a Minor I just want to run my hands all over it."

"Look, rape guy, I'll be blunt." She was always blunt, years working in the bear-pit of the city derivatives markets had made her hard-nosed and straight-talking. "It's my birthday on 29th February - I was going to invite these other losers to dinner at my place, but what do you say - just you and me. As it's leap year day, it's only the ninth time my birthday has fallen on the right date, so you'd better make it special." How could I refuse? I couldn't believe it - this was it - I was going to fuck her on her ninth birthday!

What was I doing? This was insane! Sex with someone on the executive board was so dangerous - if things went wrong it would be career suicide. But I couldn't help myself - she had me under her spell.

On the evening itself, I arrived at her apartment - punctually, but shaking with nerves. She answered the door wearing a short blue dress and, I suspected and later confirmed, nothing else.

She invited me in. The apartment itself was large and modern - the main living area dominated by the large pieces of pop art she used to decorate the place. The huge pieces of graphic artwork clashed violently with each other.

I followed her to the kitchen. Once in there, she offered me a joint. "Is roast lamb ok with you? I thought you could carve it."

I tried to slice the meat, but my hand was shaking like crazy. "Are you going use that knife or just play with it," she mocked. In the end I just ended up mutilating the piece of meat - the evening hadn't started well and my nerves were just getting worse.

She must have picked up on my nerves because she decided to lighten the mood. "I'll put some music on - do you like jazz?"

"Err, yeah, sure, I'm a big fan." I choked on my reply as she leaned back over her kitchen counter to switch on the CD player. Her hard nipples poking through the thin material of her dress. The familiar strains of Minnie the Moocher filled the room and surprisingly provided a calming effect on me.

"I have an eclectic taste in music - I need different artists for every mood," she told me. "When I'm kick-boxing I need Trivium, when I'm playing chess I listen to Debussy."

"And what do you do when you listen to Cab Calloway?" I asked.

"I fuck. Something about scat just turns me on incredibly."

She sprang towards me. Kissing me passionately as her nimble fingers undid my jeans, freeing my hard cock. She jumped up onto me, wrapping her legs around my waist and sliding down my shaft. She rode me like a woman possessed, her piercing eyes burning into mine.

Her dress slipped from her shoulders - her released breasts bouncing in my face. Her flowing juices ran down my rigid member and dripped from my balls. She was the most electrifying fuck ever. Then it took a horrifying twist.

"Uh-uh... you know what day it is... " she panted.

"Your birthday!" I was on the brink of a huge orgasm.

"Mmmm... it's also... Uh ... the 29th... of February...." a devious smile crept across her face. "Will you marry me?"

I dropped her to the floor! The conniving bitch - it was all a trap. She didn't want fast, dirty, no-strings sex - she wanted to trap me into a lifetime of love and commitment. Well not me, sister.

I knew it meant the death of my career but you know what - some boundaries just shouldn't be crossed!