The Bookkeeper

"Well, I'll be taking off now Jack," called out Hal, the sales manager, as he headed toward the back door. "Make sure that you don't lock in our auditor when you leave!"

"Oh, is she still here?" I asked, jumping up and stepping over to the door. "I thought she would be finished and gone by now."

"So did the rest of us, but I guess she had to stay on to finish up this afternoon," replied Hal over his shoulder as he continued down the hall. "She's still in the front conference room, so be sure to check on her."

"Yeah, Bossman! I'll be sure to check on her!"

Hal didn't realize what he was setting me up for, and neither did I at the time. For the last two weeks, we had had an outside bookkeeper brought in to audit the financial books. The first couple of days, there had been two of them, but just one remained to complete the audit. She was a rather severe looking young woman, always dressed in stiff dark business suits with high collared heavily starched blouses. Her black hair was pulled tightly into a twist on the back of her head and her dark eyes peered out through the heavy rims of her eyeglasses. It only took a couple of days before some of the fellows out back began to gossip about the strange woman in black who always wore this serious face and walked in a very military style. "Ilsa of the SS," I had heard one of the guys call her. Another referred to her as the "Ice Queen."

Since I usually worked late and was always the last one out of the office, it had fallen to me to let her out before I left. Our first meeting on Wednesday last week was pretty brief, just long enough to take care of business so I could lock up. On the following day, she asked if I would mind staying a little later so that she could finish up what she had started. What was another fifteen minutes, I thought. Fifteen minutes turned into an hour, but she did apologize. Earlier this week, she asked the same favor and since I was waiting for a call from the West Coast, I didn't mind hanging around. In fact it gave me a chance to talk with her a little as I escorted her to the door. I found out that her name was Carmen, not Ilsa, and that she was from the headquarters of her firm in Chicago and traveled almost all the time. After her stay here, she was off to some place in Iowa, then Denver, followed by Seattle, and so on. I definitely got the feeling that she wore the serious straight face because she was shy and never had time to get to know anyone.

"Well, why don't you let me get you out of this place for lunch tomorrow?" I had suggested.

"Oh, I don't think I could do that," she had replied. "Company rules. I can't let you buy me lunch."

"We can go Dutch if you want," I had gone on. But she would have none of it.

"Thank you for asking, Jack. But I think I had better not."

She flashed me a quick little polite smile that showed off her perfect teeth for a moment before she ducked into her rental car and was off. The next couple of days I did manage to catch a glimpse of her working away as I passed by her room. She looked up briefly and smiled but always went right back to her work. She spent most of her time in the conference room or in meetings with our controller. She ate the lunch she brought with her. She did take a break or two and sat outside on the decorative park bench in front of the building that no one else had ever sat upon reading what looked like a cheap romance novel. On Thursday, walking her to the back door a second time, I tried to ask her out to lunch again.

"I don't suppose you've changed your mind about lunch, have you?" I said wearing my friendliest winning smile.

"I really shouldn't," she replied looking away. "Company rules and all that."

"But you've been shut up in here all week and it's supposed to be a beautiful day tomorrow."

"Thanks for asking," she said glancing up at me. "You're really persistent and sweet about it, but I really can't."

"Suit yourself," I replied as I held the door for her to leave.

So now it was Friday and I recalled from earlier in the morning how she had looked up from her work for a moment as I stood by the fax machine chatting with a couple of the girls from customer service. For a moment I thought she was checking out my butt, but she turned away when I casually turned back to look. She looked up for a moment and smiled before looking back to her work. I could see the trace of blush flushing her cheeks as she scribbled with her pencil across the books in front of her. Later in the afternoon I had literally run into her as we were exiting the restroom.

"Sorry," I said, reaching out to help steady her as she stumbled a bit.

"That's okay," she whispered, likewise reaching out for balance.

For a moment we held onto each other. I noticed two things: her hands, resting lightly on my shoulders, were very small, delicate, and well manicured; and her slender arm felt very soft and warm to the touch.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," I laughed. "I think my boss is getting suspicious."

She paused for a moment looking up at me with her dark eyes. I had never seen anyone with black eyes before. Maybe they were just very dark brown, but in the light outside the restrooms hers appeared black and she just looked up, as if trying to look inside of me. For a moment I could see a flash of warmth in her dark eyes, the hot flicker of her soul sparking deep inside of her. There was a hint of Spanish ancestry in her facial features, with nicely rounded cheekbones and thin dark eyebrows. She let her delicate hands slip down my arms and fall back to her side. Then the cool look returned to her face, she cleared her voice and began to back away. I watched her closely as she turned and walked back to the conference room. So there was the soul of a woman underneath that stern cool exterior, even if it didn't show in the stiff, business-like stride she took along the hallway. As I walked along that same hallway so late in the day, I remembered that moment and that look in her eyes.

"Carmen," I called out as I approached the conference room doorway. "Will you need to stay late tonight?"

I was surprised to see that all of the books were stacked neatly on the table and her briefcase was closed. Instead of seeing her seated upright at the table with her calculator and pencil at hand, she was leaning back in the chair sipping from a can of soda pop.

"Whoa! I guess you're all set to go!" I said quite surprised. I had expected that she would have to stay late.

"Almost," she said before taking a long slow sip of soda. "I always like to enjoy the last few minutes of a job like this. You know, savoring the success of pressing the equals button one last time and seeing the numbers come out even."

"You accountants live a pretty wild lifestyle!" I cracked, trying to keep a straight face.

"I would expect sarcasm from someone in sales!" she replied quickly.

"Well, I can't conceal the fact that we play a little harder than the folks in accounting."

"Certainly not after reviewing some of your expense reports," she said. "Do you guys do a lot of client entertaining?"

"Hal's a pretty strait-laced guy so we have to be careful with how we spend the company's money," I remarked. "We have to have a good business reason when springing for dinner or hockey tickets."

She took another long sip of soda and pushed herself back a ways from the table. She re-crossed her legs, apparently unmindful of the rising hem of her skirt now resting above her knees and affording a tasty glimpse of her shapely legs encased in dark silk stockings.

"So have you got a plane to catch tonight?" I asked.

"Actually the first flight to Des Moines early in the morning and a two-hour drive in a rental car."

"Oh, an exciting time in the garden spot of the Midwest."

"Yeah, a real hot spot," she said looking off and away vacantly. She took a last sip of soda and set the can down on the table. "So what about you? Any hot plans this weekend?"

"I'm going with some friends to the big U2 concert tomorrow night," I said surprised at her interest.

"Sounds great," she said, looking away again. "I always miss the good shows."

"That's too bad," I said trying to sound sympathetic. "You probably don't get out much."

"No, not in a fun way," she said getting up from the chair and moving over to the large window looking over the front lawn. "The same hotels in different towns with the same set of strange faces all around. I'm so tired of traveling I would give it up tomorrow if they didn't pay me so god-damned much money."

"I know I get homesick when I'm out on the road too long," I said stepping over beside her near the window. The warm summer afternoon was turning into a gorgeous summer evening. "I can't imagine what a steady diet of traveling is like."

"Ain't no picnic, big boy," she said, crossing her arms over her chest. "It was a lot of fun for the first few months. I had never been more than 100 miles from home until I left for college. Now, I've been nearly all around the world, and the novelty has definitely worn away."

"Say I'm not doing anything tonight," I ventured. "Why don't you let me take you out and show you around the town?"

She smiled a looked over at me. "Thanks, but I told you the rules."

"Screw the rules! I know of this really neat place to eat in Mex-Town and a couple of happening clubs in Harmonie Park. What d'ya say?"

"I'm tired of eating out and drinking in strange places," she said with a heavy sigh. "I really need some r 'n' r."

"Then how about if I cook you dinner at my place?" I said trying to find the right formula to get to her. "I even let my guests put their feet up on the coffee table if they want."

"You'd do that for me?" she asked, reaching over with a dainty little hand to touch my arm. "That's a really sweet tempting offer."

"I've got a great music collection. You could pick out some tunes and relax while I uncork the wine and fix dinner."

"That sounds pretty domestic," she said beginning to smile as she gripped my arm. "Is that all you have in mind?"

"After spending so much time in the company of strangers, you look like you need to connect with someone," I said, turning to face her. "I'm simply volunteering."

"How sacrificial of you," she smiled. But then the smile faded and she looked at me as she had earlier in the day, a deep look inside of me as if trying to take of the measure of whether it would be worth it to trust me. In doing so the cool façade of the stern bookkeeper melted away to reveal the warm soul of a lonely woman, far from home looking for a comfortable place, a warm embrace, and perhaps more. She turned and came face to face with me, her face tilted up to meet mine, her dark eyes opening widely. Her other hand reached out to touch my arm. I moved closer to her.

"That's very nice of you to volunteer," she said softly moving closer to me. "I wonder if you're up to providing for all of my needs."

"It's that or die trying," I quipped.

"That sounds like commitment," she said. "Domestic and committed. I don't usually attract that sort of man."

"And what sort of man do you normally attract?" I asked, slipping my arms around her.

She let her hands glide up to my shoulders. "Lonely salesmen on the road, looking for any old warm port in the storm," she said bringing her hands back down over my chest. "Looking for a quick fling in a cheap motel, a no-ask, no-tell affair with a stranger. I meet them all."

"And do you go with them?" I asked, truly interested in her answer.

"I only did once, and regretted it ever since," she said, her hands gently rubbing my chest.

"So that's why you wouldn't go to lunch," I responded, bringing my hands down to her waist.

"That and a couple of other reasons," she said. "I don't know you. You don't know a thing about me. I just can never let myself get involved."

"You should know that I'm not the kind to take advantage," I said pulling her up against me. "But I'm not beyond meeting with someone on equal terms, seeking out the warm caring touch of someone in need of the same."

I was aware of her belly pressing up against me, her breath on my cheeks, her hands gently rubbing my chest. I was also aware of her dark eyes locked on mine, opening up so that I could see the pain and longing deep inside of her. She slipped her hands around to my back and let herself fall closer against me, our faces an inch apart.

"How do you know that I feel that way?" she asked, tilting her head.

"Maybe it's because we see in each other a bit of the same thing, the loneliness, the need to connect."

I tilted my head opposite her and brought my lips toward hers. They lightly touched in a brushing soft kiss. The scent of her perfume enveloped me, as we pressed closer together. Her body trembled as our arms looped farther around and our kiss grew deeper. Her breath splashed over my face as her mouth opened and our tongues sought each other out in a twirling wrestling match. As I reached down to cup her ass with one hand and brought the other up behind her head, she slipped an arm up over my shoulder and held me tightly. With our bodies pressed together I could fell how slender she was beneath the full cut of her business suit, with a narrow waist and a small firm butt; and her body felt warm, very warm. She finally pulled back to take a deep breath.

"Oh, God. What are we doing?" she asked looking at me with a puzzled gaze.

"I've always found it unnecessary to ask too many questions at times like these," I replied. "But I thought that we were just kissing."

"That was not just a kiss," she said. "That was something else. That was passion!"

"There's more where that came from," I remarked pulling her close again. "But I promise that I won't rip your bodice."

"Pardon me?"

"Well, I saw you reading one of those potboiler romance novels at lunchtime and didn't want you to think I was a bodice ripper."

"For one thing, I'm wearing a suit not a dress so there is no bodice to rip," she said with a laugh. "And second, I was reading Sexual Response In Women not a romance novel."

"That explains your kissing technique," I said pulling her close and kissing her again.

Our hands were all over each other now; hers up fingering their way through my hair, mine working up and down her back feeling out every slender curve of her backside. Her hands worked around to loosen my tie and pull it away from the neck of my shirt. I began to work on the buttons of her suit jacket as she unbuttoned my shirt. After pulling her jacket open, I fumbled with the dinky buttons on her blouse. She pulled my dress shirt open and ran her hands over my bare chest.

"You've got a very nice body, Jack," she said. "Nice and slim with firm muscles."

"No, you're the one with the nice body," I remarked as I pulled her blouse open to reveal her full breasts nestled in a lacy pink bra. I traced my fingertips along the upper rim of the cups barely, teasingly touching the tender flesh of her breasts. "You are beautiful!"

She leaned toward me and began to kiss me on the chest, letting her lips graze lightly on my nipples. I gently tugged at the cups of her bra pulling them down to reveal the dark nipples beneath that were now getting firm and erect. I heard her gasp against my chest as I cupped her breasts and tweaked her nipples. She spun slowly around so that her back was to me but my hands could fully explore her full firm breasts. They were delicious handfuls, not too big, but enough to fill each hand completely. The skin surrounding her nipples was so soft and smooth and creamy I could have stood there all night playing with her tits.

Her hands reached down behind her and rubbed up against my crotch, feeling my cock rise up in eager anticipation. She gently massaged it up into a more comfortable position. She pulled the zipper down and slipped one hand inside and pulled my cock out to stroke it. She turned back around and grasped me with both hands.

"Look at you!" she cooed. "A kind, sensitive guy with a big cock! Pinch me I must be dreaming."

I grabbed at her nipples and threatened to tweak them but she never gave me the chance when she kneeled down to pay attention to my cock. With both hands she rubbed it and stroked it, squeezing the head enough to make me flinch from the overwhelming sensation. As she began to lick at it with her tongue, I loosened my trousers and let them fall down to my ankles. She paused for a moment so that I could lower my boxers and give her full access to my cock, now standing at attention in front of her mouth.

Without a word she drew it into her hot wet mouth, her hands holding it straight out by the base and her mouth working back and forth along the length of it. She paused every so often to let it pop out of her mouth and smacked her lips before sucking it back inside her eager mouth. I fell back to rest my ass on the edge of the large table, my hands down on the table for support. She positioned herself so that, as she bobbed her head back and forth, all that touched me was her mouth and tongue. She pulled her jacket and blouse off her shoulders revealing more of her slender body. How delicate and feminine she was under her business suit. The straps of her bra slipped down off her shoulders and the sight of her breasts wiggling as her head bobbed back and forth brought a new wave of pleasure to me. I reached around to her head and pulled at the clip and pins that secured her hair in the tight twist at the back of her head. Finally her black hair tumbled free and fell well below her shoulders. I reached down and slid her glasses from her face.

"Oh, God, Carmen!" I called out. "I love the way you suck my cock!"

That made her work all the harder sucking me further and deeper into her mouth and throat. Soon I heard her gag as she tried to push all of me inside her.

"You don't have to do that," I said, running my hands through her hair. "I love it just the way you were doing it."

"But I want to," she replied, stroking my wet cock with both of her hands as she caught her breath. "That's the point, Baby. I want to!"

She went back to work on my stiff cock, letting her tongue draw circles on the cap and then down and back up the under side. She plunged her head forward and sucked all of me down her throat in one move. Back and forth she worked her head pulling me up the ladder of ecstasy.

Finally, when I was ready to come, I pulled her up by the shoulders and spun her around, boosting her ass up onto the conference table. I picked up her legs and she raised her skirt up her slender legs to reveal the lace tops of her black silk stockings and her pink lace panties. There was a noticeable wet spot at the crotch and I immediately pulled them to the side and lowered my head toward her musky pussy. What a sweet little twat it was, as I kissed it and worked the lips apart with my tongue. There was the lightest bit of fur around her pussy, very soft and delicate. Her sweet musky scent was like candy. She hiked her skirt up to her waist and pulled my head into her firmly. Working with my tongue and lips and fingers I soon had her leaning back on the table, pulling at her nipples.

"Oh, Baby! Fuck me with your tongue! Eat my pussy, baby! Eat my pussy!"

Soon I had three fingers in her pussy and I sucked on her clit and managed to poke my thumb up her tight little anus. She wrapped her legs around my head as I worked on her pussy. She came once and then a second time more lightly.

"Oh. God! You Bastard!" she cried again and again.

She raised herself up first on her elbows and then her hands and finally pushed herself up to a sitting position. She grabbed the back of my head and crushed my face into her, practically smothering me with her delicious sopping wet pussy.

"So are you going to fuck me on your company's conference table?" she asked, with the lilt of a challenge in her voice.