index


Message-ID: <55959asstr$1180393801@assm.asstr-mirror.org>
From: Diola Dragontail <dioladragontail@yahoo.com>
In-Reply-To: <399423.53016.qm@web56312.mail.re3.yahoo.com>
MIME-Version: 1.0
Content-Transfer-Encoding: 8bit
Subject: {ASSM} Lo and Behold (Chapter 23) [Very Little Sex]
Lines: 562
Date: Mon, 28 May 2007 19:10:01 -0400
Path: assm.asstr-mirror.org!not-for-mail
Approved: <assm@asstr-mirror.org>
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories.moderated,alt.sex.stories
Followup-To: alt.sex.stories.d

Lo & Behold
by Diola Dragontail
http://www.asstr-mirror.org/files/Authors/dioladragontail/www/
  
Chapter 23: Working Stiff

His pulse was racing, his knuckles sweaty as his
fingers gripped the faux-leather.  His eyes darted
around scanning his surroundings in a panicked frenzy.
 He felt like a mouse dangling by his tail as some
unseen giant lowered him into an aquarium full of
hungry snakes.  Danger seemed to be all around him,
hidden in the shadows, poised to strike if he should
put his guard down for even a second.

The worst part was that the danger felt inevitable. 
It wasn't like this was just a passing moment.  That
if he made it through this gauntlet, and then
everything would be ok.  It seemed like it was just a
matter of time before he tripped and then felt the
fangs sinking into his back.

Arnold tried to calm himself by slowly counting out
loud.  He wasn't sure if it would actually work, he'd
just seen someone do it on television.  It seemed like
it worked for them and, at this point, he was willing
to try anything.  After two days of almost unrelenting
panic, he felt like his heart would explode in his
chest if something didn't give soon.

He turned the steering wheel slowly, guiding his car
through the turn into the parking lot.  The panic had
been growing and ebbing inside him for almost two days
now.  It was a dull aching headache that just stayed
with him, reminding him of what was coming.

The worst of the terror came when he tried to sleep. 
Laying in the darkness, staring up at the ceiling, his
mind had nothing else to focus on.  He felt cold sweat
building on the back of his neck while his pulse
raced.  A passing police siren, normally ignored on
any other night, was enough to send his fevered brain
over the edge, the panic flaring up to cardiac
threatening anxiety.

In his mind, he was sure that the fading of the sirens
only meant that now they were clustered outside his
front door.  Prepping themselves to kick the door
down, to barrel through the house and drag him from
his bed.  Then marching him across the lawn in shame,
for all the neighbors to see.

Ten minutes after the sirens had faded he felt a small
wave of relief.  His mind realizing that they weren't
coming for him.  Not yet anyway.  He had another
couple of hours of freedom at least.

When sleep finally did come to him it only seemed to
be because his mind had fretted itself into
exhaustion.  His synapses, unable to cope with the
constant stress, shut down in protest and forced the
darkness to overtake him, finally granting him a
blissful state of ignorance.

He had managed to have a few merciful moments where
the panic faded, but those were only when he was lucky
enough to be distracted.  Because of that, this Sunday
probably ended up being the most productive day of his
entire life.  This was despite the fact that he was
working on almost zero sleep.

He threw himself into any task, no matter how
insignificant it was, no matter how long he had been
putting it off.  The lawn got mowed, the trees were
pruned, the gutters got cleared, and the attic was
cleaned out, just to name a few.  The list of
accomplishments would have made Hercules envious.

As his car rolled through the parking lot, he was
surprised to see that there were no Police cars
waiting for him.  His panicked imagination had painted
multiple versions of this morning.  A dozen cop cars
lining the parking lot, SWAT teams on the neighboring
roves.  

Somehow the absurdity of that image had managed to
comfort him.  The absurdities making the whole
situation seem surreal and impossible.

He had decided to come in early.  If the inevitable
was going to happen, it seemed like it would be a lot
less painful if fewer of his co-workers were around to
see it.  He knew it would be the stuff of gossip for
weeks to come, but if he wasn't there to here it, then
he didn't care.

The emptiness of the parking lot told him that his
plan was working, at least in theory.  There were only
a handful of cars in the lot.  He only recognized two
or three of the cars as being co-workers.  

He pulled into a nondescript spot, closed his eyes and
breathed slowly.  He tried to convince himself that it
was just another day, nothing special.  He wanted to
walk through the doors with his head held high, even
though he really felt like running inside and hiding
in his cubicle.  

He concentrated on imagining a blank piece of white
paper, nothing else but emptiness.  He felt his heart
slow down, the throbbing of the veins slowly descended
from bass drums to a pair of tambourines.

In the blank whiteness inside his mind, a face started
to form.  He knew who owned the face, but he tried not
to think about it.  Tried to banish it from his mind. 
If he didn't acknowledge it, then maybe it would go
away.

And then, just like that, he was back in the movie
theatre.  The whiteness inside his mind faded and was
quickly replaced by dim flickering lights and the
smell of old soda.  He could feel the soles of his
shoes sticking to the floor and the threadbare fabric
of the armrests just like he was really there. 

He tried in vain to banish the images from his mind. 
He knew what was coming next.  The whole encounter had
replied in his mind a hundred times at least.

He could feel the warm mouth wrapped around his cock,
doing things to him that his wife would never, had
never, done for him.  The tongue rubbing against him,
the enamel of teeth barely grazing his flesh, the warm
breath against his balls, he could remember every
sensation as if it was happening to him again.

The head in his lap was bobbing up and down slowly,
giving him pleasure that he had only imagined before. 
The hushed voices around him, the flickering of the
movie screen all added into the excitement.  The
experience was so unlike him, so out of character that
he felt like a different person as it happened.

The teenage girl's mouth picked up speed now, coaxing
him to react, and cueing him that the end was coming. 
He could feel his cock surge in her mouth; feel the
mushroom tip of it start to balloon.  He felt the warm
blood rushing down his body, setting every nerve of
his groin on fire.  For one brief second, he felt so
sensitive that he could identify individual molecules
touching his cock.

Then the warm explosion as he came, filling the girls
mouth.  There was a sound of slurping, a swallow he
could barely make out over the background noise of the
movie.  Not the sound of disgust he would have
expected his wife to make, if she ever lost her mind
and decided to do this to him.

He could see the girl look up at him, his cock rapidly
deflating next to her face.  Her fingers wiping the
sides of her mouth.  The grin on her face, like she
was proud of what she had done.  Like she had enjoyed
it.

He stared at the face and knew it was the source of
all his panic.

He couldn't imagine what his wife would do if she
found out about this.  Probably divorce him.  If not
that, she'd probably spend the rest of her life
reminding him about his transgression.  Not a day
would go by that she wouldn't remind him that she was
staying with him out of the kindness of her heart and
that by all rights she should have kicked him to the
curb.

And that was just the least of his worries.

He knew, just by looking at the girl, that she was
underage.  He could try to pretend that he had no
idea.  The movie theatre was too dark and he hadn't
gotten a good look at her.  That if he had known, he
would never have even though about it.

He doubted that he could be that convincing.

He could tell them that it was her that approached
him.  That he was just minding his own business. 
Chaperoning his daughter and her friends to the movie
theatre.  That this whole affair was entirely the
girl's idea.

Then it would be her word against his.  And whom would
they probably believe?  The innocent teenage girl or
the balding, middle age, round around the middle
accountant with dirty old man glasses?

And still that wasn't everything he had to worry
about.

He recognized the girl from the movie theatre as being
his boss's daughter.  He remembered seeing her at a
few company functions.  

Divorce.  Public shame.  Unemployment.  Being accused
a child molester.  Possible jail time.  

He had heard stories about what they did to those
kinds of people in jail.  The kind of person that he
was now.  He doubted that he'd survive more than a few
days without getting a knife in the back.  

He distracted himself for a second as he tried to
remember what they called knives in jail.  He'd seen
it in enough movies.

Shiv.  That's what it was.  He'd probably die with
someone's sharpened pudding spork sticking out of his
back.

These were the things that kept circling around in his
head, all of them orbiting his memories of the
forbidden oral pleasures he had enjoyed.  Each of the
little nuggets of panic would zoom by his head,
sending his thoughts flying into almost panic attacks.

But he still couldn't help remembering how much he
enjoyed the moment when it had happened.

He opened his eyes slowly, trying again the clear his
head.  He peeled his fingers from the steering wheel,
his fingernails inadvertently having dug into the faux
leather covering.

He tried to move as calmly and as normally as he
could, even though he felt like he had to think about
each movement as he made them.  Willing his right hand
to retrieve his briefcase from the passenger seat. 
Making his left hand unlock the driver's side door and
push the door open.  He felt like a robot, watching
his body move on it's own.  Disassociated from life
and reality.

He stepped out of the car, closed the car door, and
started the short walk across the asphalt of the
parking lot.  The front door of the building loomed in
front of him like Sisyphus's boulder.  Threatening to
fall forward and crush him with little or no effort.

He climbed the cement steps and pulled open the glass
door.  A gush of air-conditioned air rushed out to
meet him, almost enticing him to turn around and run. 
Luring him to retreat back to his car and hide.

But he shouldered forward, skipping the elevator and
instead climbing the stairs up to the third floor.  He
was relieved not to have encountered any one else
along the way.  He wasn't sure that he would have been
able to make it through the typical Monday morning
small talk.

He walked through the hallway of the cubicle farm
where he spent most of his daylight hours.  He sat
down in front of his small desk as he set his
briefcase to the side.  He stared at the black screen
of the computer monitor as he tried to collect his
thoughts.  Tried to remember what it was that he had
to do this morning. 

The ringing of his office telephone startled him;
almost sending him into a shock induced cardiac
arrest.  He wasn't sure how long he had been staring
at the screen.  Probably only a few seconds, but he
couldn't help but hope that it was already five
o'clock.

He picked up the receiver with a shaky hand, bringing
it to his ear as his voice broke.  "Hello?"  

The awkwardness of his own voice shook him back to
reality, knocking him back into his routine. 
"Amalgamated International, Accounting Department. 
How can I help you?"

"Arnold?"  The male voice on the other side of the
line asked, sounding unsure. 

"Yes, this is Arnold.  How can I help you?"  Arnold
was happy that the routine of his dialogue had gotten
out of his mouth before his brain recognized the voice
on the phone.

Panic overtook Arnold's mind again as he realized he
was speaking to his boss.  He had to restrain himself
from slamming the phone back down.  The father of the
girl he had allowed to do those things to him.  He
felt his eyes tense and worse, the cubicle seemed to
be trying to spin around him.

All he could think is what he'd do if it were the
other way around.  What he would do if he was the boss
and found out one of his employees had touched his
daughter.  

"Just making sure."  Mr. Lo replied, the unsure tone
of voice slipping away.  "You didn't sound like
yourself for a minute there."

Arnold recognized that his boss was waiting for some
sort of reply, some acknowledgement.  But he found
himself unable to speak.  He wasn't even sure if had
taken a breath recently.  He barely managed to murmur
a sound of agreement.  

"I thought I saw you come in a minute ago.  You're
just the man I want to see."  Mr. Lo went on to say. 
"Could you come down to my office for a minute?"

The cubicle managed to tear itself free from the
confines of gravity.  Spinning around Arnold now,
threatening to make him loose the contents of his
stomach.  He barely managed to make another sound of
agreement.

"Great."  There was a click as the line went dead;
presumably it was Mr. Lo hanging up.  But Arnold
couldn't help but imagine it was the FBI turning off
their recording tapes.  

He hung up the phone slowly, fighting off the urge to
cower under his desk in a fetal position.  He just sat
at his desk for a long moment, trying to collect his
thoughts and having very little luck.

Like a moment of clarity, everything seemed to just
click in place for him.  He wasn't going to hide.  He
was going to go straightforward and confront whatever
it was that was waiting for him.  Come hell or high
water, having a conclusion seemed less painful then
the endless waiting and guessing game.

Arnold stood up and walked out of his cubicle,
marching with intention between the rows of shoulder
high makeshift walls.  As he approached Mr. Lo's door,
he wondered if this newfound strength was a sort of
false resolve that death row convicts felt.

As he approached the open office door, he tried to
recall a saying in his hide?  Pride before a fall? 
Folly before a fall?

The phrase still escaped him as he cautiously knocked
on the open door.

"Arnold!"  Mr. Lo actually sounded happy to see him. 
"Come on in."

He felt like he had just stepped into the Twilight
Zone.  Why did his boss sound happy?  This couldn't be
good.  Something was wrong and he felt like the
ignorant lamb being led into slaughter.

Arnold glanced up and down the hallway before stepping
through the threshold of the office.  His eyes
glancing around the small office as he took a chair.

No sign of the police or the Human Resources
Department.  Or even the Security Guards.  Not the
slightest hint that anything was amiss.

"Are you feeling okay?"  For the first time this
morning, Mr. Lo turned his attention fully away from
his computer and onto Arnold.  "You look kind of
pale."

Arnold, in a moment of panic, quickly shook his head
no.  "No, I'm fine.  I'm just...  tired.  I didn't get
much sleep."

Mr. Lo nodded slowly, seemingly sympathetically, as if
he understood exactly the predicament that Arnold
found himself in.  "Well, I was hoping I could ask you
to do me a favor."  

"A favor?"  Arnold blinked in reply at his boss,
unsure of what reaction he should be having.  In none
of his panicked mindscapes did anything like this
happen.

"I have the Peterson meeting this morning."  Mr. Lo
replied, what looked like a hopeful expression
appeared on his face.  "I came in yesterday to try and
get this presentation done, but this spreadsheet just
isn't adding up."

Arnold nodded slowly in reply, still off his mental
footing from the surprise of the conversation.

"If you could get the numbers from last month and get
them into this spreadsheet..."  Mr. Lo waved his hands
at the computer screen in a gesture that bordered on
rude.  "Well, you'd save my life then."

Arnold nodded as an afterthought, his mind distracted
by other matters.  Maybe he had been mistaken was the
only thing he could think now.  His eyes ventured
across the small office, spotting some family pictures
in a frame on the desk.

Maybe he was mistaken or maybe it was just his
imagination, maybe the teenager was not actually
related to his boss.

Mr. Lo glanced down to see what it was that had
attracted his sub-ordinates attention.  A prideful
smile appeared on his face when he realized it was the
pictures.  He reached to pick up the frame, startling
Arnold back to the here and now.

"I-"  Arnold mentally stumbled for a reason why he was
interested in the pictures.  "I never noticed those
before.  Is that your family?"

Arnold mentally smacked himself in the head for saying
something so stupid.  "No, actually they aren't."  He
imagined Mr. Lo saying to him.  "I liked the picture
that came with the frame so much that I just left it
in."

"Yes it is."  Mr. Lo smiled as he looked at the
picture himself.  The picture had been taken last
summer, when they were on vacation in Virginia.  

After a second, he turned the frame around and held it
out to Arnold.  Offering for him to take a closer look
at it.

Arnold reached to take it as slowly as he could, doing
his best to hide the shaking of his hands and appear
as normal as he could.  As he looked the picture over,
he could hear his boss talking about where and when
the picture was taken, something about the beach and
bad weather.

But none of that matter to Arnold, instead he just
focused on the teenage girl wearing the red bikini. 
It immediately crystallized in his mind that he hadn't
been mistaken.  The girl was definitely the same girl
as yesterday.  He could feel the panic nibbling away
at the edges of his calm exterior.  Threatening to
overwhelm him.  

Despite this panic, he couldn't help but remember what
it felt like to be in her mouth.  He stared down at
the picture, imaging that face in his lap, her tongue
teasing his skin.  The feel of her lungs sucking the
air from her mouth, pulling the velvet soft inside of
her cheeks against him, making his cock grow to fill
the gaps. 

Mike might have noticed his employee's preoccupation
with the picture, but his mind was equally busy on
other matters.  The sight of Cat in her bikini brought
images flowing back to mind.

Mike remembered walking in to her bedroom and seeing
her lying on her bed.  Just watching her.  Knowing
that she was only pretending to be asleep as she
exposed herself to him.  Just staring at her forbidden
skin with a lust he hadn't dwelled on before.  Knowing
that she was enjoying her little show.  The feel of
her mouth as he put his cock to her lips.

Arnold swallowed hard as he held the picture frame in
his hands.  Hands that wanted to shake like leaves in
a storm.  He had to concentrate just to keep them
steady.

Despite sitting across from his boss, the father of
this, well, child, he couldn't help but wonder what
else she was like.  What was behind the episode in the
movie theater?  Was that how she really was?  Or was
she just showing off for the friends he saw in the
back row? 

Mr. Lo coughed, clearing his throat and mind at the
same time.  The sharp sound cleared Arnold's thoughts
just as quickly.  He felt like somehow his boss could
read his thoughts and he knew what he had been
remembering.  He quickly held the picture frame back
out to his boss.  

Mike actually felt somewhat embarrassed now as he
retrieved the picture.  "So how is your family?  Your
daughter must be getting ready to start school soon."

"She started last year."  Arnold managed to squeak out
through his dry throat.  "She's six now."

Arnold cut off his own words, about to say that he had
taken her to the movies yesterday.  But immediately
realized it might not be such a good idea to admit to
having been in any sort of proximity of his boss'
daughter.

"They grow up so fast."  Mike commented with a
sympathetic smile, 

Even during the small talk, Mike still found himself
somewhat distracted.  Imagining climbing into bed with
Cat after their secret affair.  Feeling her warm soft
skin against his older body.  Being able to wrap his
arms around her, hug her tight against himself.  His
mouth finding hers, his tongue pushing it's way into
her mouth.  His cock trapped between her young thighs.

Rolling her over onto her back as he knelt between her
knees.  Looking down at her young body spread out
before him, the fruit of his loins craving for him to
enter her.  Her pale skin almost blending into the
even whiter sheets.

Feeling her hands grasp his cock, pulling him closer. 
Bringing him down on top of her, guiding him between
her virgin lips.  Feeling her pussy stretch to
accommodate him.  The wince on her face as pushed in,
feeling himself so deep inside her.  

Arnold felt incredibly uncomfortable as silence
gripped the room.  He could see that his boss was
distracted.  Or maybe he was just testing him? 
Playing with him?  Seeing if he'd crack under the
pressure?

Mike shifted in his seat as his mind lurched out of
imagination and back into reality like a backfiring
car.

"I'll get right on that spreadsheet."  Arnold said as
he stood, taking the lull in conversation as his
chance to escape.  He left the confines of the office
as quickly as he could, hoping that his rapid exit
would appear to be an eagerness to accomplish the task
set to him.

As he returned to his cubicle he found himself wanting
to be a teenager again.  Wanting to be able to ask
this young woman out.  To pick her up at her door, a
flower in hand to present to her.  

To take her out for a meal and just be able to spend
the evening enjoying her company and stare into those
mischievous eyes.  To be able to walk her home under
the moonlight.  All the way there being able to have a
conversation with out having to say a word. 


      ____________________________________________________________________________________
Park yourself in front of a world of choices in alternative vehicles. Visit the Yahoo! Auto Green Center.
http://autos.yahoo.com/green_center/ 

-- 
Pursuant to the Berne Convention, this work is copyright with all rights
reserved by its author unless explicitly indicated.
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
| alt.sex.stories.moderated ------ send stories to: <ckought69@hotmail.com>|
| FAQ: <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org/faq.html> Moderators: <story-ckought69@hotmail.com> |
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+
|ASSM Archive at <http://assm.asstr-mirror.org>   Hosted by <http://www.asstr-mirror.org> |
|Discuss this story and others in alt.sex.stories.d; look for subject {ASSD}|
+---------------------------------------------------------------------------+