It was a cold sunny day and the clocks were striking thirteen as Jordan jogged breathlessly along the street. He could feel the phone in his ruffled white shirt pocket buzzing like the smug, annoying little fuck it was, the alarm he set being left unanswered. He already knew he was late to work, and did not feel the need to have that fact rubbed in. He could already feel the air in the office clogging up with the miasma of amusement mixed with awkwardness with a generous dollop of condescension dripping off that his colleagues would have – like the mental equivalent of putting a cake in the oven and then ignoring it for ten minutes too long.

Almost going past the back entrance to his work, Jordan snapped out of his morbid reverie and paused a moment to catch his breath. Quickly running a comb through his thick, wavy brown locks, he straightened his lopsided tie and pulled his pants up, the old leather belt groaning as it was forced back into place under his portly belly.

Almost hitting his head on the top of the door, Jordan ducked his head and wove between the two others trying to slip in. Whose fantastic idea was it to have the fucking hobbits measuring the height of the doors in Wellington, anyways? He’d only been back in the New Zealand capital for a month, and he was already missing America.

He took a moment to share a wry glance and a quick grin with the other two, as they embraced a solemn moment of camaraderie, three fallen men, defeated by time and their inability to manage it. The moment quickly ended, as Jordan strode to the quartet of elevators, drawing upon the probably-faster-but-fuck-stairs training he had been perfecting for most of his adult life.

The elevators, of course, took the longest thirty seconds of his life to crawl down to him, as he jogged impatiently on the spot like a 12 year old told he isn’t allowed to go to the bathroom until the bell goes. The elevator area smelled vaguely of citrus, undoubtedly some cleaner’s attempt to change it up. He could appreciate that. Gotta make the best of a bad situation, right? Jordan shook his head – he could hardly imagine a thing worse than cleaning up after an entire building of entitled fucking bureaucrats like him.

The bell finally tolled as the door ground open excruciatingly slowly in front of him. He half dived into the metal box of death, and impatiently jabbed a button until a faded “three” lit up with a dull blue glow.

Gripping the swipe card around his neck like a holy talisman, Jordan zipped out of the elevator and swiped through the two security doors to his floor. The scratched black lettering on the wall read Level 3, Operations Support and Improvement.

Making the decision to rush to his desk to verify that he was only a couple of minutes late, Jordan zig-zagged through the various teams on the floor, occasionally absently nodding or waving to colleagues he knew.

His target in sight, Jordan halted his speedy entrance and adopted a casual stroll the remainder of the way – the goal of seeming like he wasn’t worried about being late already half defeated by the redness lining his cheeks and the slight puffing of his complaining lungs.

He checked his phone. 8:04. DAMMIT. That means…

Of the six computer stations, two were already occupied by the early starters in his team. Kayla, the bouncy young 22 year old, fresh out of law school, poked her head up from the middle of the pod as Jordan collapsed in his chair, the groan of the overworked chair a sure sign of his arrival.

As usual, Kayla was impeccably dressed, her bright green eyes accentuated slightly with a slight tinge of golden eye shadow. She had gone with a fusion of modern and ancient clothes today, with a white Victorian shirt, patterns of white lace placing coy emphasis around her slim hips, hinting at the buried treasure of an impressively proportioned chest. He knew that this meant she was also wearing the blue “toy” skirt (her words), a long, azure number that came down to her calves, but with a long slit down one side that revealed a hint of shapely, tanned thighs, and the tantalizing hint of what he thought was a Dragon tattoo, winding it’s way up her thigh toward her stomach.

“Oh, thanks for getting me that file, Jordan. I’m snowed up to my tits over here!” she sang in the exaggeratedly casual sounding “kiwi” drawl.

The sense of palpable appreciation radiating from Jordan’s face was clearly not lost on her, as she smiled a conspiratorial smile and winked as her face disappeared back down behind her computer screen, her shoulder-length golden-brown locks swaying behind her.

He heard a voice like the sound of hard leather hitting a loosely gravelly pavement behind him.

“Morning Jordan. Is that krampkeper file ready for review yet?”

Jordan rolled his eyes. “Yes, Graham, it’s drafted and ready for proofing, but you said you wanted it peer reviewed first, remember?”

The fossil of a team manager grunted, the frown lines on his forehead reluctantly receding, allowing the bushy white eyebrows time to return to their rightful position.

No reaction to Jordan’s lateness meant that the ploy worked. He rejoiced inside. He’d have to buy Kayla a coffee later.

The clatter of typing and mouseclicks was soon shattered by the hustle of the one person he knew he could rely on to be later than him – Lorelai. Jordan’s eyes flicked to his screen. 8:22. Wow. Not quite the lorelai record, but a pretty good effort.

Soft blue eyes agape like they had just seen the end of days, and that end was now, because of the sheer inconvenience caused to her team by her tardiness, a frantic, gorgeous creature filled Jordan’s vision for a moment. A thin grey blouse cut low enough to tiptoe the line between barely appropriate and lascivious, showing off the most perfect DD breasts Jordan had seen, combined with a freshly pressed pair of blue jeans that hugged her buxom waist and half-moon shaped booty.

Strawberry blonde hair untied, full lips coated with perfectly applied poison purple lipstick, Lorelai swept past Jordan to swoop onto the seat next to him.

“I’m so bus I’m late the sorry was delayed!” she cried, not noticing the word salad as multiple sentences came out where there could be only one.

Panicked eyes cutting back and forth between him, Kayla and quite clearly avoiding papa gram (the nickname that Kayla had worked oh so hard to make stick to Graham that one day, thus cementing The Law Of Kayla in the office), Lorelai was so fucking cute. But, at times like this, he had learned that it was better to ignore the word salad and move to reassure her.

“Hi, Lorelai. Yeah, these buses are shit. Stupid bus driver’s strike; how dare those pricks and their desire for equal pay get in our way!” Jordan offered.

Clearly about to continue her panicked tirade, the words nonetheless caused lorelai’s eyes to flash with anger. She was not difficult to read, as she wore her heart on her sleeve most of the time, and he knew full well the reaction his words would receive.

As she opened her mouth, a snippy reply on her lips, she saw the ironic smirk spreading across his face, and rolled her eyes at him, his barely suppressed mirth winning her over.

“Yeah, those workers that dare want enough money to feed their kids each week, how dare they?” she said, poking her tongue out at him.

The conversation earned a titter of amusement from across the pod, as Kayla tried to hide her amusement – and the fact that she was eavesdropping – and failed as usual.

Pretending not to hear, Jordan reluctantly tore his attention from lorelai. With a final scan around the pod, a quick glance enough to notice the evils that fossil gram was giving her, he popped in his phone earbuds, letting the smooth doof-doof of the vocal trance zone him out as he found the next file to work on.

At damn near the exact stroke of 9am, like clockwork, Jordan barely registered as the final member of the team drifted in. The latest starter, Bonny was by far the quietest and most reserved member of OSI.

“Oh! Bunny! I love your hair! Where did you get it done?” Jordan removed one bud as he glanced over. His turn to eavesdrop. Here we go.

Kayla was standing up, her elbows on the desk, as she looked the shy girl up and down, approval evident on her face.

Bonny (hereafter forever known as “Bunny” per the Law of Kayla) looked down, a demure smile on her face.

“Thanks Kayla, I did it myself over the weekend…” Bunny replied, her quiet voice a stark contrast to Kayla’s enthusiasm.

Her normally dark brown hair, which normally hung from her hair in lazy ringlets, was shock pink today. She was wearing the typical Bunny mode of dress, with a cute white woollen sweater, neat dress jeans and red striped sneakers. Not exactly appropriate footwear for a government department, but nobody really seemed to mind.

“Nice! How was your weekend?” Kayla pressed. Bunny looked up, as her smile faded for a moment, her dark brown eyes unreadable.

“It was okay. I went to the beach on Saturday…” she replied, her voice trailing off.

“Ooh, wow! That explains the super cute bikini you were sporting on your Instagram!” Kayla gushed, unperturbed.

A wave of colour rose to Bunny’s cheeks as she looked around to see if anyone else had reacted or heard.

Jordan shook his head to himself. With smarts like that, Kayla could be a private detective. She was way too good at getting information from people. That, or she’d end up getting fired for stalking, he thought, a half-smile creasing his face.

Kayla, meanwhile, smiling cheekily as Bunny helplessly blushed at the sudden appearance of the personal information, finally gave the poor girl a break.

Jordan couldn’t help but sneak glances at the exchange. He felt bad for bunny, but she just looked so innocent and helplessly cute when she blushed. And it was obvious that Kayla enjoyed tying Bunny in knots. That girl was so blatantly bisexual that it hurt sometimes, he thought, as he replaced his earbud and let himself float away with the music.

Before he knew it, it was 11:40. He flicked open his email and sent a message to Kayla.

“I think I owe you a coffee for getting me off the hook with papa gram this morning. Free at 12? I hunger.”

A few seconds later the return email popped up. It just said ” You sure do 😉 Emperor cafe at 12:15? Just gotta finish this letter lol xD”

Man, 22 year olds and their damn emojis.

Jordan smiled despite himself and raised one hand above his monitor with a thumbs up. This was met a moment later as a pair of tiny pink nail-polished finger guns appeared above Kayla’s, cementing the meeting.

At the appointed time, Jordan rose from his chair, his chair creaking politely at him, telling him to fuck off and never return. Guh, he was only 33. He really needed to get back on the exercise bandwagon.

Sauntering over to Kayla’s desk, he offered his arm, and tipped his invisible top hat.

“Milady? Your carriage has arrived.”

A pair of green eyes looked at him, first in surprise, then with barely contained mirth.

“Why thank you, Milord” she replied with her best attempt at demure submissiveness, eyes twinkling in amusement, as she rose and took the offered arm. Intertwining her arm with his, the two walked a few steps toward the exit, their differing sizes making their gait uneven, like a pair of Siamese twins that learned how to walk on a pirate ship.

Jordan felt the sensation of Kayla’s young, firm breasts pressing against his arm as they walked. The thin cotton of Kayla’s shirt gave no barrier as they half-walked half-rolled to the cafe.

“Soy mocha, two sugars, extra marshmallows?” Jordan guessed, as he politely disentangled himself. Kayla raised an eyebrow suspiciously at him.

“What are you, the coffee whisperer?” she muttered, and nodded. Jordan declined to mention that he heard her giving her order to bunny the previous day, and smiled mysteriously.

New Zealanders were weird. The cafe was almost deserted, as most of the bureaucrats didn’t eat lunch till 1pm. Stark difference to while he was in the states, where everyone got half an hour at the stroke of 12 and stampeded to all available cafes to satisfy their caffeine cravings. But here, people could take their breaks at almost anytime, as long as they still got all of their work done for the day.

Jordan was about to order his standard lunch order, when, out of nowhere, a blur of movement and a streak of blonde was all he saw before something slammed into him, knocking him back a few steps. The scent of eucalyptus and honey wafted into his nostrils as he looked down to see a pale, blue-eyed beauty hugging him like a tiny bear preparing to devour its prey.

His assailant smiled a wide smile, and rubbed her face affectionately into his chest.

“Omg Jaws! What are you doing here?!?!” she asked, breathlessly, her California accent, use of this nickname (and perky c-cup breasts haphazardly poking his stomach) leaving no doubt who it was.

Jordan gaped in amazement for a moment.

“Sarah? What are you doing here?!” he echoed helplessly.

The slim blonde girl disengaged her stranglehold and straightened up, proudly puffing out her chest. She was wearing the plain black tee shirt and faded black jeans of Emperor Cafe. That (combined with the apron around her slim waistline) telegraphed exactly why she was here.

“I got the job here! I Interviewed Friday, remember? They asked me to start today!” she gushed, clapping her hands in self-righteous applause.

A small cough reminded Jordan of someone.

“Who is this lovely creature, Jaws?” Kayla asked, as she looked Sarah up and down. Jordan sighed. The Law Of Kayla strikes again.

“Ahem, er, yes. Kayla, this is my best friend Sarah. Sarah, this is my workmate and fellow mischief-maker Kayla -” Jordan affected the most pompous English royalty accent he could “-and you may now shake hands.”

The two girls looked at each other for a moment before grinning. At the same time, they both drew back their fists and playfully punched Jordan, taking an arm each.

“Ow! Stop that! I deserved that!” Jordan jerked away from them, trying to sound offended, but his wide grin was palpable.

“Sarah, you’re making our coffee and servicing our table today, right?”

“I’d be most happy to, Kayla, if Sir here agrees?” Sarah remarked, a slight blush colouring her face.

Jordan raised an eyebrow at her for a moment before screwing his face up into the ugliest face he could muster.

“Do I haaaaaave to?” he said, plaintively making “help me” gestures to one of the other baristas, who proceeded to do an excellent imitation of him not existing.

“- YES!” both of his tormentors said firmly, before looking at each other in surprise and dissolving into a gaggle of giggles.

“Fiiiiiine, but that coffee best have cats drawn in it!” he replied, winking at Sarah. She winked back and zoomed off to create coffee cats.

“So, Jaws, how do you know that gorgeous young thing? I wouldn’t have thought that she would be in your normal pool of friends…?” Kayla asked, a hint of curiosity and jealousy in her voice.

“Hmm. Well, I’d tell you, but then she’d have to kill you…” Jordan smirked, enjoying the pout that coloured Kayla’s features.

“No, but you should actually tell me though, because you know I’ll find out…” she replied, a smug grin unable to fully replace the curiosity in her sparkling eyes.

Jordan’s memory flashed back to how she made bunny blush that morning.

He sighed. “Well, the truth is, I met her at a board game convention in 2010.”

Kayla raised one eyebrow, in the universal gesture of “NOPE TRY AGAIN”.

Jordan held up his hands in surrender. “I’m serious! She came with her boyfriend at the time, but he ditched her to go play a card game with his friends. Nerd boys, right?” Jordan rolled his eyes theatrically.

“She was just sitting in a corner, craning her head to get a better view at all of the games being played, but nerds being nerds, none of the nerd boys had the balls to even talk to her – everyone was ignoring her, it was like she was invisible.

She looked lonely, and I had gotten out of my “girls are the mysterious yet deadly enemy of nerd-dom” phase a year or so beforehand, so i came up and offered to teach her how to play. Then-” he smiled wryly, “I made the mistake of mentioning dungeons and dragons, and I haven’t been able to rid myself of her since.”

Sarah picked this time to walk up to the table, skilfully balancing an omelette on one arm and two coffees (with exquisitely crafted steamed milk cats, of course) on the other. Her azure eyes widened as she heard the end of the conversation.

“What? Jaws, she plays D&D? Are you serious? Omg keep her, she’s perfect!”

Jordan grimaced and gestured plaintively at the unashamedly excited face Sarah was making. “See what I mean?”

It was Kayla’s turn to hold up her hands in surprised surrender.

“You’re serious? You’re a nerd girl?” She looked Sarah up and down.

At the time, Sarah was definitively an anomaly in Jordan’s world. An 18 year old bombshell with slim, tanned legs, blonde hair that spilled out in a golden waterfall almost to her waist, and perfectly proportioned breasts to boot? And one who was totally obsessed with dungeons and dragons, a game he’d been dungeon-mastering for the last five years for?

Yeah, definitely an anomalie. Or so he had thought. Turns out that there are actually a huge number of nerd girls that exist. They just get put off by the exceedingly stuffy (and awkward) gatekeeping of nerdboy culture. But that was a story for another time.

Jordan shook his head. “Nah, sorry Sarah. She asked me how I met you, and didn’t believe me at first.”

Sarah’s smile faded. The 27 year old crossed her arms.

“Did she ask what a girl like me is doing knowing a guy like you?” she asked softly.

“Whoa, easy there, tiger. She didn’t mean anything by it. I just don’t think she was prepared for the knowledge that you were a huge dork under that exterior of yours…” he hastily clarified.

Sarah paused for a moment, and then the smile returned. “Oh, well, that’s okay! We all wear costumes to hide who we truly are, don’t we, Kayla?” she said brightly, putting a comforting hand on Kayla’s shoulder and squeezing. She leaned over the Kayla, her lips only a few inches from her ear.

“Just as long as the person viewing those costumes doesn’t judge a person by them!” the blonde girl intimated, her voice barely more than a whisper. Jordan had to take a sip of his mocha to avoid laughing.

“Sarah, stop bullying my colleague, she’s had enough for now, don’t you think?” Sarah turned, eyes wide, face a mask of innocence.

“Would I do that?” she asked, staring at him, as he fought unsuccessfully to hide a smile.

“We still on for Friday, Jaws?” she reminded him.

“Depends how good you are between now and then, Sarah. Now go serve your other customers!”

Sarah sauntered off, a satisfied look on her face. Kayla, meanwhile, watched her go, eyes evaluative, as she bit her lip thoughtfully.

Jordan leaned over to her, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Sometimes you’re the Kayla, and sometimes…you’re the bunny, I guess…” he whispered beautifically.

Kayla jabbed him in the arm with her fork. She looked offended for a moment, and then, seeing Jordan’s face, thought better of it and laughed, her face red.

They ate in silence for a short while, him his omelette and her tucking into a veggie burger, before she finally spoke again.

“You’re like actually really close with that girl, huh,” Kayla said, twirling a fry around on her fork in front of her in Sarah’s general direction.

“Was it that obvious?” Jordan asked.

“Well, yeah. I mean, she had no time for my shit like the moment that I questioned why it was that you have a girl like that in your inner circle.” She paused, considering her next words. “Can I ask you a personal question, Jordan?”

“Sure, and I’ll even give you an honest answer, but only if I get to ask you one after.” he quipped. She nodded.

“Does that happen often, like, you know, people insinuating that she’s too good for you because you’re fat when you’re with her?”

Jordan grinned and leaned back in his chair.

“Yeah, it happens. Sometimes it’s just surprised double-takes; and sometimes it’s…well, worse.”

“Worse how?” asked Kayla.

“Well, you know how sometimes when you’re walking down the street, how sometimes random men “compliment” you?”

Kayla screwed her face up and wrinkled her nose like she’d just smelt something that died three months ago, then something dawned on her and she looked back suspiciously at Jordan.

“How did you know that happens to me?” she demanded.

Jordan rolled his eyes. “Because it happens to literally every lady on a regular basis, but especially to pretty ones that take care of their appearance like yourself. It doesn’t take a guy being a fucking rocket scientist to notice, though considering how many of us sont or choose not to…” he muttered, his face darkening for a moment. Kayla blinked twice in surprise as he continued.

“Well, imagine that, except the exact opposite. Imagine those men calling me out for being too fat and suggesting that Sarah come with them instead.”

Kayla snorted with derision. “As if they could handle that much woman…” She muttered. Jordan smiled a savage smile.

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it. Sarah gets so mad when shit like that happens. She hates people who think I’m nothing more than a fatty punching-” Jordan snickered “-above his weight.”

Kayla blinked twice again in confusion as the joke sunk in, then put her head in her hands and groaned. “Did you just…”

“I sure did,” he smirked for a moment, then stifled a sigh.

“Look, I’m no stranger to the fact that mainstream society looks down on people my size, but I’m also so much more than just light comic relief. Sarah gets that, which is why she gets a bit spiky when she doesn’t think people are taking me seriously.”

Kayla shuffled, tucking her legs under her until she was kneeling on her seat. She leaned in slightly, and it took all that Jordan had to avoid glancing at the far too conveniently placed opening in her shirt, revealing the tantalizing hints of a surprisingly risque black lace bra. She stared eagerly at Jordan, contemplating her next question.

“What does Sarah do when this happens?” Kayla asked.

Jordan smiled a sly grin. “That depends on the day. Normally she’d just glower at them or flip them off, but there was this one time…” Jordan trailed off, looking around the room guiltily as he realised he’d said too much.

Kayla leaned in a bit closer, putting both hands on the table to steady herself, totally drawn in, waiting for him to continue.

Jordan cursed his flappy-mouthedness. There’s no way she would let him off the hook here, and knowing Kayla, she would definitely sniff out a lie here if he told one. God dammit.

As he opened his mouth to speak, a voice cut through his nervousness.

“Ooh, you guys look like you’re having a good conversation. What are you talking about?” Sarah asked, as she expertly cleared away the empty plates and coffee cups. At that moment, Jordan’s heart was hers. The timing was beyond perfect.

He grinned at her. “Kayla here was just asking questions about the lengths you’d go to protect me when someone negs me in the street…” he replied, snagging two fries from Kayla’s departing plate.

Sarah grinned at him, but he didn’t miss the flash of steel in her eyes, and neither did Kayla. She began to saunter away, but as she did, she turned her head back to them.

“Feel free to tell her a story, Jaws, you have my permission as always,” she replied, as she whisked away, the cups and plates balanced as expertly as ever.

Jordan groaned inwardly. Fuck, there goes his ready made excuse to hold back. God dammit. He shot a look at Kayla, who was all but slavering at the mouth with anticipation.

“This stays between us, you got it? I don’t want this being aired in the middle of the pod like the existence of Bunny’s hot beach bikini photos.”

Kayla smiled sweetly and clasped her hands together in a mock prayer.

He bent down and looked her in the eye, speaking in a quiet, serious tone.

“I’m fucking serious, Kayla. If I tell you this, I’m trusting you not to say anything. If you do, there will be consequences”

She returned his stare, a defiant look on her face. “Oh? What’s Jaws gonna do if I tell?”

His eyes narrowed, and he smiled a dangerous smile, all humour gone from his voice. “Kayla, trust me when I say that there are some things about me that you aren’t ready to let out of the bag yet.”

She returned his gaze for only a moment, her green eyes calculatingly evaluating his tone, the steadiness of his eyes, and the hard edge to his voice – and thought better of it, the defiance draining from her gaze as she lowered her eyes and looked back at Sarah on the other side of the cafe. “Fine. I swear I won’t tell. Damn, Jordan, you got layers, huh.”

Jordan smiled. “You don’t know the half of it, my dear. Okay, well, I’ll take you at your word. Don’t disappoint me.”

She swallowed. She knew he was serious. “I…won’t, Jordan.” A look of wonder passed over her face as she realised that she meant what she said.

“Okay, well. One day, we were walking up Cuba street on our way to a thing, and on the other side of the street, three guys were hanging out on a bench. Sarah was dolled up to the nines, wearing a red evening dress, strappy heels, red lipstick, glittery eye shadow, the whole deal. These guys saw her, and looked over at me with sneers on their faces.” Jordan’s voice was flat and to the point.

“One of them yelled at me, calling me a fat whale fuck or something, and the other two joined in with jeers and laughter. I grabbed Sarah when I saw her stiffen, and told her to keep walking, because nothing could affect me today, walking up the street with such a beauty on my arm.”

Kayla nodded, leaning in a little bit closer, totally engrossed, oblivious to the widening cleavage gap right in front of Jordan. It was his turn to swallow nervously as he continued.

“But then they started following us up the street. Cat-calling Sarah, telling her there was an alley nearby that she could go into with them if she wanted to have some fun with some *real* men.”

A savage smile started to make its way onto Jordan’s face.

“Sarah stopped, mid stride, and looked over at them. They hooted and waved. She turned to me, and I will always remember the words she said.

“Jordan, I am going to kiss you in a few seconds. Do whatever you think will shut them up or provide the maximum amount of displeasure to them, I give my consent.”

At this point, Kayla’s cheeks had coloured, and her breathing quickened. “And? What happened next?”

Jordan’s grin widened.

“She turned to me, a sultry look on her face, bit her lip, put her hand around the back of my neck, leaned into me, and kissed me. Hard. I could taste her cherry lipstick, and feel the softness of her lips as she tasted me for the first time. The taste of cherries was complemented by a soft minty aftertaste, as our tongues softly mingled in the street. It felt like the world slowed down, as I felt her soft breasts against my chest.”

A distant, dreamy look entered his expression for a moment.

“I remember hearing my heartbeat thudding in my ears, and a flush of heat moving quickly up my neck and face. I felt the warmth of her skin and the tenderness of her touch, but mostly, I remember just thinking I wanted to do something more, to repay her for this gift she had given me, and to verify to her that yes, I was worth the effort. So, I leaned into the kiss, and intertwined my fingers in her soft, luscious hair. I didn’t know what came over me then. I seized her hair and pulled, forcing her to stumble backwards. I grabbed her around the waist to stop her from falling, and pushed her against a nearby car.

She mewled in pain at the unexpected forcefulness, but didn’t have time to regain her composure as I swept in and pinned her to the car, tasting her cherry lips once more. Her mouth surrendered to me as I massaged her tongue with mine, the taste of peppermint again hitting my taste buds. As I began to withdraw from the kiss, I seized her lower lip in my teeth and tugged, (earning a surprised growl from her for my efforts), following it with a brief lick of her lip.

I could feel her breathing quickening as she gasped breathlessly, the unexpected movement and sudden loss of control leaving her without words. I stared into her deep blue eyes and smiled as her lip quivered. I moved my hand from her waist, feeling the thin fabric running over my fingers, exploring her body as it moved. As I moved up her body, I felt an unexpectedly hard point on my palm, and realized that was her nipple, standing to attention.

Without breaking eye contact, I smiled at this discovery, and my hand ended it’s journey around her neck. We shared a moment, her eyes darting nervously between mine, and then back down at her erect nipples, as she struggled to regain her composure.”

Jordan shook his head, as if returning to reality, and noticed Kayla was on the edge of her seat, breathing quickly.

“Aaand then I flipped off the three guys, the look of jealousy and disappointment plastered on their faces was enough to fuel my happiness for many days afterward, and Sarah and I continued to our thing like nothing had happened.”

He fell silent, waiting for Kayla’s response.

She sank bank on her launches, face unreadable, as she idly rubbed one arm with her hand.

“…wow, Jordan. What the everliving fuck did you do for this woman that she would defend you so…passionately?” she eventually muttered.

“I mean, I didn’t really do anything special. We’ve just been friends for her entire adulthood and most of mine, and I’ve…helped her through some… really bad times in her life…” he finished.

Kayla shook her head. “So, wait, you’re not…you never…you know,” emphasising her question by pressing her index fingers together.

“Oh, nah, not at all. I love her to bits, but romance, white picket fence, all that shit was… never really our thing.” Jordan replied, smiling crookedly at the brusqueness of Kayla’s gesture.

Kayla cocked her head and inspected his face carefully, as if trying to scoop his thoughts from his skull. After a long moment passed, she sighed.

“Fiiiine, don’t tell me the whole story. I’m satisfied for now. It’s probably time for us to get back to work anywho.”

Jordan smiled innocently at her. Inwardly, he breathed a sigh of relief. Sarah was a whole other story that he was not quite ready to lay out for his cute coworker yet.

They paid, and made their way back to work. Kayla was silent on the way back, striding purposefully up the stairs and into the elevator. As the elevator music tinkled, Jordan glanced down at Kayla, and saw that her cheeks were flushed.

His gaze lowered to her chest, and he hid a smile as he saw two tiny points standing proudly to attention. She seemed distracted, deep in thought.

The elevator ground open, and Kayla quickened her pace, dipping through the central foyer and swiping through the security doors.

She strode through the office and ducked into the restroom. On a whim, Jordan followed into the disabled/family toilet that nobody else seemed to use, even though there were no kids or disabled people as far as he knew on this level.

He sat down on the toilet, smiling at the small grate in the wall, and waited.

Kayla

Kayla swept into the female restrooms and locked herself into the corner cubicle. She sat down on the seat and buried her head in her hands.

A million thoughts swirled around her. Jordan. God, how does any of this make any fucking sense. It was so weird, so…stupid, that she believed what he had told her. What kind of person just reveals details like that to a co-worker? What if she broke her word to the guy and told people? He could get reprimanded for sexual harassment, right?

And yet…she knew somehow that she was going to keep her word, and stay quiet about it. She couldn’t get the image of Sarah dressed in a long red dress out of her head. The front showing ample vision of those perky breasts, with the back cut extremely low, her soft, unblemished back and shoulders bare, as she walked with Jordan in the middle of the street, her every step causing those tits to wiggle invitingly, begging someone to stroke and caress them…

Kayla’s hand grazed one of her erect nipples, sending a small burst of arousal into her already worked-up state.

She bit her lip nervously as she poked her head out of the cubicle, checking for others and finding none.

Her hand began to stroke her breasts over the white patterned shirt. Dammit. How dare Jordan and that blonde vision of his make her body tingle like this?

A short movie played in her head, of Sarah narrowing her gorgeous blue eyes at her and telling her off for looking down on her friend like that. This vision was quickly replaced by Jordan, telling her there would be consequences for her if she told anyone. If she didn’t do what he said. There was no hesitation, no doubt she could see as he told her that. He wasn’t like any of the other older men she’d strung along.

Kayla did not often get told off for her behavior, even when she deserved it, but today felt different. The way Sarah stood up for Jordan without the slightest hesitation, the way she cut through her misconceptions about him – and him, that stare, that…confidence in his voice and tone and manner. Whatever he had in his back pocket that made him so sure she would do what he said set her mind alight with curiosity. She bit her lip, and squirmed a little as she felt a heat starting to build between her legs.

A scene of Sarah placing a firm hand on her shoulder, and squeezing. That hand moving to lightly caress her neck, sending goosebumps and a shiver of surprised pleasure down her spine at her forwardness. Her leaning over and whispering softly about how she was going to punish her for her behavior, the scent of honey filling her nostrils.

Her asking Jordan what he would do if she disobeyed him. His steely gaze, his calm self-confidence. What was it that lay below that friendly portly bureaucrat exterior? She wanted to know. Had to know. No matter what.

Her hand slipped under her shirt, her fingers acting out what she longed for Sarah to be doing to her at that moment.

She stifled a soft cry of pleasure as she pinched her nipple, the point somehow growing even harder in her grip, as the hard bumps of her areola stood to attention. Her back arched, and she felt a sudden coolness hit her hips as her blouse rode up, exposing her lower back to the coldness of the porcelain, sending goosebumps through her.

The buttons of her shirt came easily undone, revealing the upper half of an intricate gothic dragon tattoo, the tail winding down around her upper thigh, the sleek winding body snaking across her taut, fit stomach, toned from years of energetic and vigorous netball.

Kayla was used to being treated as being younger than she was – her vigor and energy made most see her as more of an enthusiastic teenager a lot of the time – but her choice of underwear was a stark contrast to her youthful exuberance. Two deeply tanned orbs, rising and falling quickly in her state of arousal, were perfectly balanced in black satin cups, the cut of which pushed her breasts up and outward. Two straps wound themselves tantalisingly around her neck and criss-crossed around her collarbone, emphasizing the overtly feminine appeal of her flawlessly shapely chest to those few that were granted her favour.

Squirming, Kayla traced patterns down her side, the movement sending more tingles and shivers through her. She couldn’t remember the last time exploring herself had felt this good, this…enticing.

Her other hand slipped under her skirt, the elastic no barrier as she noticed the immediate moistness between her legs. Her panties were soaked from the arousal juices flowing from her, the heat and the wetness mingling with the roar of blood rushing to her head. Feeling almost no resistance, she succumbed to her desires as she ran one finger up and down her engorged slit, and was rewarded with a sinfully sharp burst of pleasure as a pink fingernail lightly grazed the enflamed nerve centre of her clitoris.

Spreading her legs wider, Kayla began to probe her depths, as a series of images rushed through her head.

Sarah, her face a few inches away, wearing the red dress that Kayla’s mind was all too happy to fill in the blanks for, her twinkling eyes promising depravity as she stared deep into her eyes.

“Kayla, I am going to kiss you now. Do whatever you want to me, if it will piss those dumb assholes off – I give you my full consent.”

Kayla gasped softly as her finger rubbed her pleasure centre, the nerve endings sending constant pulses of pleasure through her. She was breathing hard and fast now, with a thin sheen of sweat running down her brow.

Then she was there in the street, kissing Jordan in Sarah’s place, gasping at the unexpectedly skillful way Jordan’s mouth and tongue massaged hers, and squirming as he bit down softly on her lower lip.

A low moan escaped her as Jordan’s smug grin filled her vision, his strong hands entwined in her hair as he forced her against the car, kissing her hard enough to make her see stars. She guided his hands to roam freely over her body, feeling him reach inside her dress to manhandle one of her breasts at the same time as he stepped in between her legs, his thigh rubbing at just the right angle to send shuddering waves of ecstacy through her….

Kayla sunk two fingers into her now-slick opening, as these images replayed over and over in her head. Bobbing her fingers in and out of her lubricated cunt, she felt an inexorable pressure beginning to build, as she…

…barely heard the sound of the entrance to the women’s toilet open. She whipped her hand up to hold her mouth shut, barely muting the loud moan that would give away what she was doing to the hapless woman that had walked in. Fucking bitch.

Her eyes came back into focus as she was forced out of her reverie to reality. She could feel the pulsing of her loins, tempting her to finish, aching for release, letting her in no uncertain terms know how close she was and how good it would feel if she just slipped her fingers inside her soaked panties one more time…

But no. Her better judgment found its opportunity to reassert itself as she quickly cleaned herself up as best she could and stumbled out of the cubicle. She glanced at her reflection as she washed her hands, seeing the blush in her cheeks and the still glazed residues of pleasure in her eyes.

Reaching into her bag, Kayla expertly reapplied her makeup from where her fingers had smudged her lipstick.

She gave herself one final look, and saw that she had re-buttoned her shirt in the wrong places, parts of her bra clearly visible.

Gulping, she quickly re-adjusted her buttons and scurried out of the bathroom back to her seat.

She checked her watch. 1:20. Damnit. Sure enough, a withering look from Papa Gram was immediately thrown her way as she sat down at her computer.

She poked her head nervously over her monitor to peek at Jordan, but he was typing away at a letter with his headphones on, oblivious to the rest of the world. Phew. Nobody noticed anything.

She checked her emails. Hmm, reply from the nice lady confirming her health insurance, a confirmation that she was good to proceed with the next step of the Johnson file, and a single message from Jordan, titled “One question, answered honestly, as per agreement at lunch.”.

She paused for a moment, twirling her finger around a lock of her hair nervously as she double clicked the email.

Her eyes widened into kayla-shaped saucers as she gulped, seeing the single line of text of the email. She shot a glance left and then right, not quite believing what was in front of her.

“You were gone for a while, Kayla. What were you doing in the bathroom for so long?”

…FUCK, Kayla thought.

END OF PART 1.

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