An Unlikely Affair

Arriving with their respective bad dispositions, Rick and Scarlett studiously ignored each other during the pre-meal drinks, the meal itself, the post meal drinks, and the first session from a particularly exuberant Cuban jazz band.

Astounding her co-workers, who all believed she was very strait laced, Scarlett got supremely drunk, and ignored the trail of destruction she left behind; everything from stepped on toes, broken glasses, and the wounded egos of male colleagues who thought they were in with a chance, and then found out, usually through a swift cutting remark, that they hadn't.

Not entirely sober himself, Rick thought she never looked sexier as she tottered around on those ridiculous stilettoes, and close fitting dress. Ironically, he re-designated her 'Miss Essex' for the evening. But he was still irrationally angry with her, so he reverted to type and flirted.

Even Mary, 'the yummy mummy' tipsily agreed to dance with him, and her poor, mouse-like husband was forced to look on stonily as Rick reached down and groped her bottom in full view.

The ever hopeful, Sally, moved in at the end of dance, frenetically dancing out of time to the music, while making it clear she was marking her territory. It was the most agonising 3 minutes of his life.

The other person Rick had assessed correctly on his first day was Karen, the 'dominatrix lesbian', who had come with her girlfriend. Against all laws of physics and human attraction, the girl was petite, pretty and quite feminine; looking totally out of place as Karen held her tiny hand in a great protective fist. 'How? Why?' thought everyone at the party. 'What a waste,' thought Rick.

Scarlett had been cornered by the Finance Director. Even drunk, she knew that she had to be careful with him. He was somewhat awkwardly flirting with her, while she listened, and looked over at the now reclassified 'total and utter bastard' who was clearly trying to taunt her.

Karen had gone for more drinks, so Rick untangled himself from a very smothering, and very drunk Sally, and optimistically moved in on Karen's girlfriend. She responded to his boyish banter in monosyllables, while looking worrying in the direction of the bar.

'Typical, so when I finally find a submissive,' he thought, 'she is a lesbian submissive.'

Then it all kicked off.

The girl suddenly gasped, her face a picture of dread. He sensed a looming presence behind him. He steeled himself and turned round to see Karen bearing down on him. But then he heard a scuffle behind him. Oh no, Sally!

"Get off him you lezzie bitch!" screamed Sally as she slapped Karen's poor, confused, little, girlfriend. Like a train, Karen flew past Rick, and knocked Sally out cold with a mighty right hook which would have made any prize fighter proud.

+++++++++++++++

After the police and ambulance had left, the party started to dissolve. It was clear there would be many a tale to be told at the office on Monday.

The band struck up the customary end-of-night slow dances, and Rick and Scarlett found themselves the last of the party there, so finally they had their dance. They did so in silence. And it came as no surprise to either that they moved together in perfect step. Their bodies moulded as one. He leant towards her and smelled her perfume. She turned her face and they kissed. 'Snog' is a better word. They snogged like teenagers, their tongues intertwining, oblivious to the band and the other dancers. She opened her legs, inviting him in, and he obliged with his knee, urgently pressing against her mound.

She responded, grinding herself against him. She felt his hands on her bottom, pushing her onto him. He worked his knee to the rhythm of the dance, very, slowly increasing her excitement. She could feel his hard member against her leg, and moved a hand down to caress it through his trousers. It was agonisingly slow. Not quite enough contact to make her come, but enough to keep her intensely aroused. They continued like this through the last two dances. They were being noticed. People stopped dancing and stared. She was too drunk, and he was too turned on to care.

A bouncer started to move in. Recklessly, Rick removed his knee from her crutch, thrust his hand up her dress, and rubbed hard. She came instantly and noisily. She flopped against him, her head in his shoulder, mortified at her wild abandon. The Cubans clapped, the crowd hooted, and the bouncer threw them out.

+++++++++++++++

They argued all the way to the hotel. They argued in the lift. They argued in the hotel room. She refused to get into bed with him, but sat on the end, mascara running, saying all sorts of things. She was ashamed, she was a slut, she was his whore, he had taken advantage of her, he objectified her, it was just about sex.

He reached for her, tried to calm her, she slapped him away. He reached again, she slapped him in the face. He slapped her back. She went for him, talons flying. He caught her wrists, spun her over on the bed, and sat astride her. The more she fought, the more he got aroused. Her dress rode up her slender thighs, he saw a flash of knickers, and Pavlov's dog rose his ugly head. He manoeuvred his legs between hers.

"So you are going to rape me now!"

"No, but I am going to fuck you hard."

"Oh, you want a fuck do you? You'll get fucked alright," she spat back as she brutally grasped his fully clothed erection.

They clumsily stripped each other, hungry for each other's bodies. There was no need for foreplay. She was soaking wet from her orgasm on the dance floor, and pre-cum was oozing out of his penis. She licked it up, looking at him through her dishevelled hair. He suddenly felt very aggressive. He spun her over, and she played along, arching her bottom, silently giving him permission to impale her. He kissed it before diving his tongue into her anus. Her conflicted mind gave in to this invasion. As he rimmed her, he worked her clit, and thrust his fingers into her sopping vagina. Then got behind her and slipped his cock into her. She groaned in sheer pleasure. He slapped her backside. Hard. He kept slapping as she pushed herself onto him as deeply as possible. Her arse reddened from the punishment. For the first time he wanted to hurt her. He ran his nails down her back deeply. 2 red welts immediately rose. A guttural moan came from her throat.

As they fucked, he moved his hands round to her soft breasts, clawing them, striping and reddening them, tweaking her nipples. Hurting her. Pleasuring her.

He spun her over again, and re-entered her. Her legs enveloped him, her feet pushing his bottom towards her, maximising the penetration. She scratched his chest, then she too carved lines down his back. He winced in pain, and grasped her hair, all the while maintaining the momentum of their steady fucking. Their groins were welded together. The smell of their sex rose pungently filled their nostrils. They kissed, tonguing each other without mercy.

They were in a sea of pleasure. It seemed endless, they exhausted themselves on each other. The bodies were now slithering together as they and the bed was soaked with their sweat and their juices. And still they fucked, until eventually, and with his customary loud groan, he finally came.

+++++++++++++++

In the morning, they made love.

+++++++++++++++

The phone rang at 05.24.

"Crap," Rick murmured as he stumbled out of bed to get his mobile which was still in his jacket pocket.

"Hello."

"It's me, Karen."

"Who?"

"Karen, your boss," came a taut reply.

There was a movement in the room near him. He became distracted.

"Eh? Oh God."

"No not God, Karen will do. I was just checking up on how it was going over there. How are you?"

"Jetlagged. You do know what time it is, don't you?"

"Sorry," she said, clearly not sorry.

"Are you out... oh God... of jail?"

"Sally dropped the charges, and I'm Karen, not God."

"That is so, so, so fan-tas-tic."

"You really don't have to be sarcastic, Rick. How is Scarlett making out? She was the only one I could send with you in my place, since you had molested practically every woman at that party. At least I can rest easy that you'll get no satisfaction there."

Rick looked down at the mass of platinum grey hair which was rhythmically bobbing up and down at his waist.

"She is making out just fine. She really has got a good head on her."