Stacie bit her lip. She loved her job, but there were days like today where it was hard to concentrate. When Katie'd come into the office, Stacie had envied both the woman's beauty and her obvious, white-collard-professional "air" that Katie'd exuded despite the casual, hip-hugging stonewashed jeans complete with cowgirl sequins on the rear pockets.

When Dr. Stoddalman had come out and said he'd need a recording of their hypnosis session, Stacie'd been excited. Her favorite part of the job was when she got to edit and package Dr. Stoddalman's hypnosis sessions with his patients, which meant she got to practice all of her digital media skills. Growing up as the youngest daughter of an only father living in a white-trash trailer park, she'd worked hard for those, both at Davis Technical Institute and on a stripper pole.

Stacie'd been excited in a whole 'nother way when she'd started editing. In the year that she'd given up working for Dr. Stoddalman's wife Holly, she'd seen Edward use the Heat induction on three women prior to Mrs. Fischer. Not one of those women had been as pretty as Katie. Note one had responded so well to the hypnosis. Not once in her entire life had Stacie seen any person, male or female, orgasm so hard, so mind-melting completely, as Mrs. Fischer. Never, in the year she'd worked for him, had Stacie seen Dr. Stoddalman so affected by a woman not his wife. When he'd stepped out of his office after-the-deed, to give Mrs. Fischer some space, Stacie was pretty sure he'd considered stepping into the restroom to jack-off. That brunette had a lot going on and whoever got to bed her tonight, because there was no doubt she was getting railed, was one lucky son-of-a-bitch.

After Dr. Stoddalman had left the lobby, Stacie texted her ex-boss, friend and confidant, Ed's wife, Holly. Holly'd called for the deets. Stacie'd supplied them while she'd edited Katie's file into the hottest hypnosis induction masturbation porn she'd ever seen, not that, before that moment, porn of any kind had been Stacie's thing. She'd starred porn, not watched it. But this, she'd watched three times more than absolutely necessary on the excuse of making sure she'd done her job right.

When Holly called on Stacie's personal cell a second time, Stacie jerked in her seat and had to blink her way back to the present. She'd crossed her legs in order to bite back the ache that her left-birdie-finger had been pressing into the seam of her slacks.

"H-hi, Holly," Stacie said, a bit breathy.

"Stacie, I've got a huge favor to ask. I'd do it myself but I've got a shoot in--" There was a pause on the other end of the line. "--like ten. I'm doing a, you know, CEO special.

"Anyhow, Ed's in another one of his downward spirals. He needs some tail and mine's not available until this evening. You know the girls. Can you call one of them? Most of them will do him but it's got to be voluntary. Absolutely one-hundred-percent no pressure. Tell them it's a paid date on the company. You know the rules, they put out only if they want to put out. Hookers turning trixs laws and all that."

"I'll do him."

"You'll--" A stressed sound bled-out from the other end of the line. "Thank you, Stacie. I knew there was a reason I encouraged my best employee to be a hoity-toity, white-blouse desk jockey. Does that mean that I can add Ed to your list of men the Company can still hook you up with in your off hours?"

"Two is hardly a list."

"I'd be happy to fill in the blanks if you'd let me."

"I don't know, let me see how he performs."

"Yeah--" Holly gave her best impression of an airhead giggle. "--that's fair. But I'll add Ed to your list now...'cause, I know something you don't, Ed is going to perform. You'll never be the same. Don't say I didn't warn you. Now I've really got to go."

"I'll call you after if my mind isn't melted."

"I won't be holding my breath."

Stacie hung up and did a seated happy dance. She dumped her boyfriend a month ago and it'd been more than a week since Holly had set her up on her last "date." Fingers flying over the keyboard, she encrypted the files, loaded to Dr. Stoddalman's remote server and sent Katie her secured copies. Her left pump tapped out a racehorse hoof-beat upon the tile floor while the various progress bars snailed their way across the screen. Upon completion, her fingers snapped alt-f-delete and locked her computer. Her chair banged off the wall when she launched out of it and speed walked to the Ed's door.

Stacie paused before the office door and shook the jitters from her hands. This was her boss, not some random John. Her breasts rose and fell with one...two...three calming breathes. She knocked and stuck her head inside Edward's office.

"Dr. Stoddalman, you busy?" Seeing him sitting at his desk with his hands behind his head, she stepped in and latched the door behind her.

"Stacie, it's Ed, or Edward if you must."

"I'm done with Katie's file. I've sent her the recording and the unaltered, unedited one along with instructions not to watch without risking the disrupting of her therapy efforts. I've stored both on our remote servers as well."

Edward brought his hands down and turned his chair towards her so that he was half-cocked to his desk. "Good job, thank you, Stacie." Ed shifted in his seat, hiding the erection Stacie'd already seen. "I'm closing up for the evening, you can go home an' call it an early weekend."

Sight of Ed's boxer-bulge was oddly calming. Stacie felt amusement twerk her lips as she locked the door. "I will, but not yet. Your wife sent me."

Ed's rod grew noticeably and he pushed back his chair. "Stacie, we work together."

"Katie was hot." Stacie stalked Ed's retreating chair with a stride perfected in a strip club. She pulled a pencil from the bun she'd absently put up and shook her hair free. Honey-gold waves washed mid-way down her back. "I've never seen someone, anyone, orgasm -- so -- fuckin' -- hard! I had to edit that! As she passed a shelf, she grabbed a bottle of vitamins and fished one from the container. "And they say blonds have more fun." Capturing Edward's gaze, she placed the pill on her tongue and slowly drew it in her mouth. The bottle, and the remainder of the vitamins, clattered and pinged across the floor where she let them drop.

The vitamin, without the aid of water, burned its way down her throat. She corned Ed, slipped off her belt and popped the button of her slacks. His hazel gaze trailed the path of the zipper tab.

Ed's gaze welded to the wedding-white lace Stacie wore beneath. "Stacie, you work for me."

"Are you going to fire me--" Wet heat exploded low, low in Stacie's belly. Her voice went a little soft. "--or fuck me."

"I'm not goin' to fire you. You're the best help I've ever had."

"Good--"

Stacie turned and swept everything off Ed's desk. Oh God, what was that? The ache between her legs grew with every heartbeat. Ed was hot. She'd wanted to fuck him ever since he'd appeared at Holly's strip club a year ago, but no man had ever made her this hot. He wasn't even touching her yet and her nipples were pebbling.

"--I like working under you."

She felt Dr. Stoddalman stand behind her. "Okay, that's lame."

Stacie's cool nearly slipped when he ran a hand over her ass and her laugh turned into a snort. "It was, wasn't it?" The ache in her core wound orgasm tight. It wasn't like she hadn't been planning to get railed but now--

The pill! How many times had she watched Katie's induction? Oh God, was she in-- Stacie bit back a moan. --she was. She was in heat. Upon realization, need dug deeper within her.

She turned towards Ed and smiled, hoping the ache didn't shine in her eyes. Oh gawd, am I going to do the sneeze thing too? She hooked her fingers in her barely-there-underwear and dropped them.

Ed's eyes went wide. She wasn't sure if it was from the perfection she hoped he found there or if she looked as wet as she feared.

"Holy fuck."

Stacie couldn't help but smile. She winked. "You like?" She crab crawled up upon his desk, hooked her pumps on the edge and divided her thighs. "I have only one demand."

Dr. Stoddalman's hands went to his belt as he stepped towards the heaven she offered. "And that is?" His hot, heavy meat bounced off her pubic and slid into the crook of her thigh.

Stacie willed herself not to buck at first contact. "That while you fuck me--" She licked her lips. "--you look into my eyes."

Stacie said it to keep things light but as Ed snagged her gaze the tension in her core wound tighter. Ed's hands glided up out her thigh juncture in a long, silken wave to her knees, pinning her wide. Her legs quaked. Ed drew back. She rocked up, her core seeking. Humid heat beaded within her folds.

Edward's throbbing, hot iron caught upon her lips, slipped and bumped over her love button.

"Hrmm." Stacie squeezed her eyes closed. She rocked back, her nether lips swelling to kiss Ed's shaft.

"I can't look in your eyes when they're closed," Ed chided.

Stacie's eyes snapped open. She saw his lips twerk in a silent laugh. She sparked as he bounced below. Stacie's legs quivered and her ass rose a finger-width off the desk. She bit her lip to keep from saying something totally un-seductive, like, "Get the fuck in me now!" His eyes said he knew exactly what he was doing to her, if, not, exactly why she was wound so tight with lust.

He nudged at her. This time his little-head snagged in her folds. Ed made a few shallow thrusts, teasing her open. Stacie tried to thrust onto him, but the way he held her thighs had her pinned. She could only do the splits so wide.

"God, Stacie, I'm never going to be able to look at you the same way again."

"What do you mean boss? You didn't see me as a little fuck bunny before? I mean, I know you look at my ass."

"Humph." Ed pumped just a little deeper. "How'd you know that? You don't have eyes in the back of your head."

"Holly told me." Holy fuckin' god, would he just get on with it already. She had to be plenty slick. These little teasing thrusts were about to drive Stacie insane. "Besides, I gave you that lap dance back when I was still at the club."

"You what?" Ed's grip quaked with surprise, easing up on her legs.

Stacie slapped her ass against his lap. Her torso twisted and rolled as Edward's railroad spike was driven to her core. A thrumming ache wormed its way up from Ed's invader, through her core, into her breast to issue from her mouth in a low groan.

"I don't remember that." Ed'd gone still, although his invader's heartbeat throb pumped heat into her.

Stacie ground her juncture, as best she could, against Edward's pelvis. "Are you goin' to, like, you know, fuck me? Because I'm startin' to wonder if you really want to."

Ed again pressed her thighs to their widest, robbing her of her ability to thrust and cycled his piston slow and leisurely. Stacie cinched down every time he pulled back and gapped welcoming wide with every push. The slow, cramp, relax, cramp, relax, repeat ratcheted a pressure within her that no pounding had ever done.

"It was a year ago," she said. Her voice sounded tight, almost squeaky, in her own ears. "Huuhh," Stacie huffed. A small bit of tension centered on the peak of her bud crumbled and washed through her in a wave before the tight ache between her legs climbed higher. "It was right after Valentines." Stacie rocked her abs. Oh, gawd, fuck. She forced her face to remain in what she hoped was a placid playful expression. "I was nineteen. Holly transferred me to your office three months later."

Edward slammed into her with an uncontrolled thrust. Stacie felt him quaking inside. "That was you?"

"Yeah," Stacie said. She bit her lip to keep from spilling over the edge.

"Fuck." Ed groaned. "I remember." He reversed his grip on her thighs, withdrew and slammed back hard, digging as deep within her as he could. "You were--" His voice ceased. Edward's whole body went tense and he trembled. "I -- I came in my pants." The expression on his face was transcendent. "No woman but Holly's done that to me for years."

An uncontrolled squeak issued from Stacie's breast. She arched and twisted against Ed, pushing, trying to get him impossibly deeper. Wet, hot heat, not her own, splashed within her.

She convulsed, abs bearing down. She rocked, pulling on the shaft pinioned in her vice. Stacie's mind spiraled to edge of the void, crossed over and came back. The straining arch of her back, crumbled and rolled in a chiropractic, bone realigning, wave.

But the impossibly needy, gnawing ach did not abate. She grabbed the edges of the desk, anchoring herself as her body twisted up a second time. A steam kettle whine escaped Stacie's lips and then, back arching, she shattered, a diamond kaleidoscope of color playing across her mind.

"Oh gawd, oh fuck, oh my god," Stacie huffed, as she came down. Her core still pulsed. Looking as poleaxed as she felt, Edward carefully withdraw and thoughtfully swabbed the spillage with a Kleenex. The tissue was sandpaper on her over sensitive heat but when it bumped Stacie's button, she had to fight to keep her eyes from rolling into the back of her head.

Dr. Stoddalman chuckled. "I must still have it, if the twenty somethings reacts like that."

Stacie pressed a second Kleenex to her sex and sat up upon the edge of the desk. "You always had it you creepy old pervert." She winked at him. Need began pumping ache back between her legs again. This was going to be such a very long night.

Edward buckled up his pants. He retrieved her belt, slacks and non-existent panties and folded them into a neat pile beside her. "You can use the guest change-room if you wish."

A mischievous bubble burbled up within her and lit Stacie's face. "You don't want to watch me?"

Ed ran a hand through his hair. "Holy fuck, Stacie, how're we going to keep it professional after this? I'm never going to be able to look at you the same."

"What? You're not goin' t' look at my ass anymore when you don't think I'm lookin'?"

"Stacie," Ed huffed.

"I can always work under you, from time to time, when we need to relieve a little steam."

Ed rolled his eyes. "I was afraid you were going to say that."

***

Holly hung up the phone and rapidly shut down her office equipment. The shoot wasn't far away, it was only in the building across the street, but she didn't want to be late and she still needed to get ready. Business 101 did not recommend making actors, even porn actors, wait.

Fortunately, this should be a short shoot with no actual acting -- not for the footage she needed. As she'd told Stacie, she was doing a CEO special and her orgasm face hadn't been all that in their last cut. Holly promised her customers authenticity, so she needed to shoot the 'O' scene again so they could splice a real orgasm in.

And-- Holly locked her office door and took of down the hall. --that was the problem. More and more there was only one man that could make Holly that hot, and he'd never once agreed to go on screen with her.

Power-walking down the hall, Holly waved to Cathy, her executive assistant, and charged outside. Hot, breath-stealing heat hit her as she exited the building. The stench of melting asphalt poisoned the air as she dodged across all five lanes of fourth-south. She got a honk, not for obstructing traffic but because at forty-two she looked not a day over thirty and was dressed like a seventeen-year old with pocket baring cutoffs. She flipped her tresses, winked and blew a kiss to the young stud in the passing Dodge.

God, she wondered if she'd ever grow bored and start acting her age. Pro'ly not-- Holly smirked. --she'd just set up one of her girls, well, Ed's secretary, with her husband. Unexpectedly, a viperous green gas coiled about her heart, stopping Holly in her tracks.

What the hell? She was not jealous. Edward looked at few women. So what if he'd gotten his rocks off when Stacie'd danced for him? Holly slept around way more men than Ed women. So what if it was her job, her business? Besides, what man didn't have wet dreams of Stacie? Every woman envied that girl's bod, and, once she opened her mouth, her brain. For fuck's sake, it was she, Holly that'd maneuvered Stacie into Edward's employ, on the hopes that the two would someday do the office mumbo-jumbo.

Disgusted with herself and the sour feeling in her stomach, Holly shook her head and broke into a trot. Calling for her team the moment she'd stepped into the building where they were doing the shoot she was down to bra and thong, headless of both men and women staging the set, before she'd made her way to her "changing room."

Donna stepped into the curtained space behind her. "Any touch-up's needed?"

"It's a hundred-and-fifteen out there," Holly said as if that was answer enough.

Donna got to work on lashes, foundation, blush and lips. Someone, likely Launa, snapped Holly's bra off and helped her out of her panties.

"Lube?"

Yep, Launa. Holly's breasts rose and fell with a calming breath. She probably should've had ben-wa balls, a jade egg or, better yet, a blue-tooth vibrator plugged-in for the last hour but this morning'd been hectic.

"Sure." Holly spread her stance.

The cold dollop of synthetic lust applied to her love-lips jolted Holly. Holly was far less bi than many of the women that worked for her, but Launa's finger knew its business as it rubbed her up. Even so, it wasn't going to be enough.

"Okay ladies," Holly said, as Donna finished her makeup, "I'm going to need a moment or the star of this show, that almighty-elusive 'O', isn't going to show."

Donna gave a nod and stepped out the small curtained space. Launa shot Holly a smoldering look, bit her lip and swirled her fuck-finger about Holly's love-buzzer one last time before she too stepped out.

Holly dug through her props, put on her noise canceling headphones and plugged into her phone. Picking through a few screens, she dialed up her major fetish.

Back on her first date with Ed, Holly'd dared him to hypnotize her pants off. If he succeeded, he got to bang her six-ways-to-heaven.

Back then her straight-jacketed, socially acceptable libido was almost Protestant. So, the options for banging six-ways-to-heaven had been limited. Since then she'd taken it down her throat and up her ass more than most, but, as it turned out, her preference was still pretty vanilla, Holly liked dick-in-snatch over any other options.

But that first date with Ed had cemented a fetish and made her porn-star-street-walking dreams a possibility. Holly was nuts for erotic hypnosis. Over the years Holly'd talked Ed into all kinds of hypnotic experiments. Horny-in-a-flash and cum-on-demand triggers had been particularly useful in pursuit of her chosen business model. But they didn't always work, particularly when her mind was busy with other things, or, lately, when she wasn't with Edward.

Holly plopped herself in the one seat that was in her little space, man-spread and began diddling with herself as soon as she hit play. Holly's breath seized, breasts vibrating, with the very first words of Ed's hypnotic meditation that spilled from her headphones. A hot, throbbing heartbeat pushed into her pleasure-button. Lava heat pooled low in her core. Her breasts heaved. Need coiled high and higher, like a ratcheted spring, between her legs.

Okay. Holly jumped up and dumped the headphones. She strut walked, full nude, out onto the set. "Are you ready?" She called to Steve, her director, "Cause I'm rarin' t' go."

Steve, a longtime friend, looked her up and down, openly ogling. He waved at the set.

"Why don't you an' Kyle get warmed up? We'll get the camera's running once you get hot."

Holly looked over. Kyle, a twenty-eight-year-old stud, was sculpted. Shaggy hair and trim, nearly black beard juxtaposed kempt and unkempt, simultaneously man and boy. The set, in front of the green screen, was gym equipment. In their little porn story, Kyle was supposed to be her personal trainer.

Holly quirked an eyebrow at Kyle. "You need any help with that?" His dick was half limp.

Kyle pumped his shaft once or twice. "Sure boss, maybe you can give me a raise. Then I could sue you for demanding sexual favors." He pressed up to her, trapping his shaft between their bellies, and claimed her mouth. There was a surprising amount of chemistry and, holy hell, his fingers knew what they were doing.

After a moment or two of plundering her mouth, Kyle moved lower and dragged his tongue along the underside of her areola. Holly's peaks stiffened.

"Fuck Kyle--" Holly shoved her beast against his lips. "--no foreplay needed." She huffed a desperate breath or two. "I'm a sure thing."

Kyle grinned around the nipple he was nibbling. "It's sometimes rather surprising, given we're both paid to fuck on camera, how different our jobs are. I have to stay hard, and thus not cum, while you have to cum and cum and cum. Not fair, really."

A finger fish-hooked Holly and explored until it found her special place. "Well I think--" Holly breasts rose and fell in several rapid cycles. "--it's about time there was a female friendly industry."

Kyle straightened, abandoning her aching nipple. "So what's your secret? Every woman has one."

"My secret?"

"Yeah, that place, the secret touch, that whispered word, that'll turn you into a puddle of fuck."

Holly was already vibrating like a plucked guitar string. "Stroke my ear."

"You mean like--"

Holly went up on tip-toes and smashed, tits to chest, with her sculpted 'personal trainer.' She moaned into his shoulder and fought the urge to bite down. Kyle probably wouldn't appreciate a hicky, not before filming.

"Yeah," Holly said a few dozen galloping heartbeats later, "like that." She clung to Kyle for support. Her legs felt like rubber.

"Hey, you two fuck-bunnies," Steve hollered, "we need her to cum cowgirl. Bonus if she cums in your lap, doggie, missionary, scissored from the back and railed over the couch."

"Yeah, yeah," Holly said. She splayed her fingers over Kyle chiseled pecks and pressed him back with her palm. He edged into a weight bench and sat. Holly pushed him down and straddled him. She ground her juncture against his throbbing shaft. After a few pussy slobbering slides, Holly drew up too far, rotated her hips and slid onto Kyle's shaft, hands free. His heat added to her heat and he, like the need within her, swelled.

"Kyle's got this."

***

Instant sweat beaded under her bra the moment Katie stepped out of Dr. Stoddalman's office, it was that hot. She straightened the masochistic garment as she strode rapidly across the parking-lot towards Curtis' -- screw that -- her Ford Raptor. Her salary had paid for the dick compensating monstrosity after-all.

Not that Curtis didn't contribute, but industrial pump mechanic didn't measure up to architect/civil engineer -- even if, as she was certain she wasn't being paid as well as the similarly qualified Jason or Hugh. Just another year and she could get her SE-PE and architectural license, assuming she could pass the tests. Strange how lawyers made more money but had an easier test.

But, I guess, she mused, if you make the rules, you make them in your favor.

Katie reached the truck. She was by no means short, in fact, she was on the tall side for a woman, but it was still a climb to get into the cab. By the time she'd settled in the inferno heat incubated by her truck's windshield, not only was sweat beading in her cleavage but the dew-point in her panties had climbed fifty points.

Well, this is going to be fun. Katie fired up the monster underneath her. Masturbating for Dr. Stoddalman had been-- She gnawed her lip. --hot. She was looking forward to getting plowed by Curtis later. But three more hours at work, while irrigating her panties, that was going to be a problem. Every man with a nose was going to be pawing about her like she was hotdog-bun at a tail-gate party. This Heat stuff Dr. Stoddalman had given her was no joke.

Fortunately, that joke, took a back seat as Katie drove towards the heart of the city. She occasionally had to press a finger to the seam of her jeans while sitting at a stoplight but, for the most part, other than the time she got honked at, for sitting at a green, while daydreaming about a drool worthy pedestrian, the smoldering burn that'd taken root in her clit faded to the background.

At the office, some dipshit, namely her boss, had parked his Tesla in the only space that was easy for her to get her my-dick-ain't-big-enough truck into. Katie drove around to the back row of the lot and backed into a too tight space hoping some schmuck wouldn't open a door into her husband's new girlfriend.

Shoving her keys in her clutch and her clutch in her purse, Katie dropped from her truck and sashayed across towards the office side entrance. Wait! What? She adjusted her stride to a power walk. Swaying like that in the nearly all male engineering office, it was a one-hundred-percent certainty that she'd be eye-fucked -- that is, eye-fucked more than normal. For a moment, that almost sounded fun, but getting slapped on the ass was sure to be a career killer -- and not just for the man with the wayward hand.

She was half way to her office when Scott MacCaffrey yelled down the hall. "Hey Katie, you got a moment?"

Katie rolled her eyes. Scott was her boss. She always had a moment. "Yes," she said, stepping into his space. His office was thrice the size of hers, with actual windows. As always, the room held a slight masculine musk, and the feel of wannabe-alpha-authority. Her core clentched.

Holy shit, really? He was her boss, bald, twenty years her senior, a misogynistic perv and -- really? Ew.

"What you workin' on this afternoon?" Scott gave her no chance to answer. "Hugh's on paternity leave an' construction out at the Layton Temple wants to take a one inch notch out of a load bearing cord. I need you to recalculate the ASCE static and live loads on the north-east tower to make sure it's not goin' to be a bust."

"Hugh's on paternity leave?" Did such a thing exist at Nerd and Oblivious Chauvinistic Engineer's incorporated? She hadn't even known Nicole had been pregnant. There were no previous kids. Hugh'd never said anything. They were friends. Weren't they? Sorta? Maybe?

"Yeah, baby."

"Awe, what is it?" Katie's tear ducts burned and her 'awe' sounded fake in her own ears. Her sinuses turned liquid. She sniffed, as quietly as possible.

Scott blinked at her. "A baby." His words were slow, like he wasn't sure, or he was talking to a child.

Indignation dried Katie's eyes. How was it that Scott knew Nicole'd given birth but not found out the deets? "I mean, boy or girl?"

Scott shrugged. "Don't know--" His expression said, "Don't care." "--About the calcs?"

"Can you give it to Jason, or maybe, Clyde? I was finishing the Serman's Project. It's due next Friday. And this, I've never seen the prints, never been in on any the meetings--" Not that she hadn't wanted to be involved, because, hey, it was a temple, dedicated to her religion. Hugh wasn't even Mormon. "--it's going to take me at least until Wednesday to check the calcs, especially if I have to do them manually. Our software doesn't support cutting one-inch notches out of I-beams."

"Can't, Jason's just got that Clearfield Wallmart and Clyde's off next week." Scott's brow furrowed. He pulled up a spreadsheet. "What project did you say you were on?"

"Sheman's" You should know, you assigned it to me...and then never once asked about how it was going.

"Sherman's, Sherman's...ah, that's a small one. It can slide a few days."

No shit Sherlock, you always give me the little jobs. "They're still customers and I'd like to do right by them. Maybe they'll give us more work."

"It won't affect our rep. Projects fall behind."

But it'll affect mine! Within this Company! The effects of Heat were entirely forgotten. There was tension in her core alright, but not the pleasant kind. She could hear it now. "Look, another one of Katie's projects is late." No one ever looked at why. Leadership never saw that she was late because she was constantly bailing others out, usually the man sitting right in front of her. All they saw was that she was late! Which then, fuckin' justified, giving her the little, unimportant, projects.

"You realize," Katie said, "it probably can't be done. It's an engineered I-beam. We should just say no."

"It'll save the contractor a lot of time."

"Like how much? It's their mistake, let them fix it."

"A couple of days."

"A couple of days? Didn't just hear me say this was going to take me until mid-next week?"

"An unlicensed engineer-architect in-training is cheaper than a ten man crew, and, there's the materials to consider too."

"Fine--" She wanted to scream. "--give it to me."

Scott handed her a mountain of calculations and prints. They were disorganized which meant he'd already rifled through them and decided it was going to cost him too much effort. "North-east tower, lateral load bearing cord, detail B-1."

"Thank you." Katie's voice sounded pinched. At least the dipshit knew that much.

Scott turned back to his work, totally oblivious to her fury. Katie stalked to her office. Matt, one of the drafters, stepped into the hall, likely to say, "hi," or maybe ask a question, got one look at her and dodged back into his cubical. Last second, she stopped herself from slamming her door as she stormed into her office. She belted the drawings down on her desk, threw herself into her chair and sat, right in her wet panties.

"Ugh!" Katie pushed her face into her hands. Bone grinding tension wormed its way up from her gut, through her breast and escaped her throat as an insane giggle. And, miraculously, with that utterance, she felt better. She'd stood in that dipshits office dripping with desire and despite the ache that was already nibbling down below once more, that was a man that no matter how much Heat she consumed would never get into her pants.

She got up and went to the restroom, mostly to clean up before her jeans leaked through. She also rubbed out a quickie while she was there. Upon returning to her desk, she bit back her burning desire and started sorting through drawings. Two and a half hours later had her pouring over calculations, gnawing on a pencil, catching-flies between her thighs and absently strumming her button. Somewhere down the hall she heard Howard, one of the partners say, "...Don't get too close, got a bad cold."

"ASCE Table 4-1 Live Loads," she read. "Apartments, Access Floor Systems, Office use, Computer use, Armories and drill rooms--" Katie's gaze followed a pastel painted nail down the table. "--Assembly areas and theaters--"

An explosive sneeze echoed down the hall.

Katie's head snapped up. Her breasts heaved. "Oh shit." The pencil dropped from her lips.

Something wound impossibly tight around the pearl in her pants. Katie's nipples hardened within her bra. Katie's fingernails bit into the armrests on her chair. Her thighs spread. Her back contorted. She rocked her hips so as to press her seam into the button fly of her jeans. A cauldron heat pooled low, low in her core and dammed up behind her lips. She clenched, praying to God she didn't wet herself.

"Fuck," she breathed on an exhale. A lightning explosion arced from her pearl to her lizard-brain and back again, where it detonated. Katie's trembling body bent double. The dark sheets of her hair curtained her view.

Katie heaved three desperate breaths before the tickle in her nose overpowered her.

"No." The word was a desperate, drawn-out whisper. Katie writhed in her seat as her mind melted with crotch drenching pleasure. The moment conscious thought returned she grabbed a Kleenex, blew like she was trying to remove her brain and pinched her nostrils. An insane itch prickled her sinuses, but one, two, three heaving breaths and it abated.

Katie looked down at herself and groaned. Anyone that saw her would think she peed her pants, or, perhaps, that her water had broken. Except she didn't look pregnant, because she wasn't pregnant, unlike, apparently, fuckin' Hugh's Nicole whose husband, after a whole God damn nine months, hadn't seen fit to tell her Nicole was pregnant. Katie was either going to have to run for it or work until everyone else went home.

That wasn't even an option. Tonight was date night and she'd subjected herself to Heat precisely so she'd be all over Curtis that evening. She was going to cum so hard, so often, so helplessly that her man would never again question his performance. The male ego was such an annoying, delicate thing.

As it was nearly five anyway, Katie shoved her things in her bag and ran. Matt said something as she passed his cubicle but she didn't catch what. She made it to her Raptor without knowing anyone had seen. Katie hoped to hell there were no stories come Monday.

Throwing her shit up into the cab, Katie clambered after. After firing up the monster, she pressed her head against the steering-wheel. The damp below was cool but she was again beginning to heat.

Just then her phone rang. Dreading who it was, she pulled it from her purse. Relief bled through her veins when she saw that it was Curtis.

"Hey, honey. Man -- fuck -- date night. I'm sorry. I'm on a job down in Provo. I'm goin' to be home late."