“Murder somebody? How much was their DNA worth?” I postulated. “I pay the cost, or somebody pays it for me. You are calling me naive? I’m not murdering somebody. I’m repossessing their DNA. Mr. DeYoung, I’m not a lawyer, so I am not approaching this from a limited field of vision like you are. I live in the World.”
“Oddly enough, I’ve had some recent encounters with real slavery and that has convinced me that I’ll go down standing up, thank you very much,” I grinned. “In case that was misconstrued; my DNA is mine, no legal precedent will change that and I’m more than willing to put bodies in the ground to keep it so.”
“You sound like an anarchist,” Mr. Cherrie chimed in.
“Nope. I’m independent-minded. There is a difference,” I indicated. “Just like you, anarchists don’t want to let me be me either.”
“Laws exist for a reason,” Nicole chastised me.
What she was really saying was ‘you are here for a reason and it isn’t entertaining my co-workers’.
“This is the point where the smart man goes ‘yes ma’am, they do’,” I nodded to her.
“Your young man is not stupid,” Mrs. DeYoung chuckled.
“This young man knows what happens if he behaves,” Nicole bowed to her superior her boss, not me.
“Oh goodie,” I rubbed my hands together. “Are we about to do some file-sharing?”
“Something like that,” Nicole laughed and off we went.
All I could imagine was that Nicole had to be God’s Own lawyer at this firm to get away with the crap we’d just pulled. Honestly, I had other things on my mind. We coasted into her office, with her name etched on the glass door… with the glass walls and floor to ceiling glass windows. Just because, I picked up a water-smoothed stone on her desk glass houses and all.
“That is from the Canadian Shield some of the oldest rocks on Earth,” she told me.
“You are also going to have one of the most painful hard substance on Earth in your office if we don’t do something soon,” I teased.
“Where do you want to start?” she leaned against her desk.
Her office was small, but it was her own. Considering her age, it was another ‘she rocks’ indicator.
“Your lips,” I murmured. Nicole liked that. She pushed off the desk enough so our lips could lock. It was very nice.
“The other lips,” I teased her. She liked that idea even more. Her black, mid-thigh skirt came up, I knelt and decided her scarlet thong was more than skimpy enough for me to work around. I let my hands run along her calves. Nicole hummed out her acclaim and was even happier when I began lifting both legs up.
Before long, she was laying on her back, her legs were raised high and spread wide. Nice and easy was replaced by rapidly energetic and fiendishly cunning. Nicole was fighting back the tidal surge of her ecstasy.
“What are you holding back for?” I slurped around my tongue-lashing.
We weren’t in a bathroom stall this time. Nicole tilted her head up, gave me a simmer glance then embraced her orgasm.
“Damn!” she screamed followed by a dozen slightly less vocal ‘damns’. I gave her just enough time for me to shed my pants, roll down a prophylactic then I mounted her.
Had there been any doubt of our forceful ardor, my heroic efforts and Nicole’s dynamism shattered them. Half of the lawyers I’d briefly met stopped by and peeked through the glass. I didn’t care and Nicole reveled in ‘bending the minds’ of the onlookers. After a while, her office was not enough. That sofa in the executive reception area?
I bent her over the art deco beast and pummeled her, and it, half way across the room. The bathroom? To be gender-equal, we screwed around in the Men’s room this time. Nicole and I revisited her erotic fantasy of being bent over in the toilet, ass fucked then completing the act with dispensing of the condom and a glorious blowjob.
Our last encounter involved a men’s standing urinal, Nicole’s legs wrapped around my waist as I gyrated against her.
“Oh my God!” she yelped. “I’ve got it. Put me down.” I put her down because the reason I was here was to crack the mental block she had found herself in.
Me? I’d come for the sex and Nicole delivered in spades. She had upheld her side of our bargain. Now that I’d reciprocated, it was time for ‘hook-up’ Nicole to become ‘lawyer’ Nicole. She made herself somewhat presentable and quick-stepped in back to the conference room. I secured my cock and pants before following.
Nicole was babbling in an eldritch dark-tongue similar to Lady Sauron relaying doom to her pack of Nazgul. They responded with various other arcane invocations until their agreement confirmed that millions of voices had cried out in terror then been suddenly silenced. In my universe, female devotees of Evil were all black leather-clad gorgeous sex kittens who used their dark arts to increase galactic lecherousness.
“Time to show you out,” Nicole gave me a sultry smirk. “Come on.” Arm in arm, we traveled closely to the elevators.
“Hold the door,” a female voice commanded right as the doors began to shut on the two of us. Nicole put a hand out to keep us from a few more second of alone time.
A Caucasian women with short brown hair and a fierce scowl entered first. An imperious damsel came in next. My heart stopped in shock while I barely registered on her radar. A dusky man, nearly my height came in last of all. The doors shut and down we went. I was spending too much time watching the woman and her two bodyguards as we all headed to the door and not enough with Nicole.
“Don’t even think about it, Cael,” Nicole teased. “That’s Ms. Brianna O’Shea, she leads our client’s team and she’s totally off limits.”
O’Shea pulled a ‘Katrina’ the moment after Nicole used my name. She spun in place so that she was now facing Nicole and me.
“What was your name?” she asked with sugary smoothness I associated with Bolivian tourism officials the nice ones. You know, the ones that thought using a truck battery attached to the jumper cables and your testicles was too much because a car battery would do.
“Percival Fenris, ma’am,” I introduced myself. “I’m a product engineer for Cyberdyne Systems. My team is creating a process that uses constantly recycling colored sugar dust as a medium that will replace current LCD technology. We are calling it Pixie TV.” Nicole was giggling. I was feeling less giggly, mainly because I was staring at my Mother.
Not my Mother-mother; the woman who gave birth to me and who had been eaten alive by cancer. No, this was my Mother the way she looked when she was twenty-five and in excellent health.
“Ms. O’Shea, this is Cael Nyilas. He is a good friend of mine,” Nicole cut through my obfuscation.
O’Shea took several steps toward us, away from the exit. Her guardians kept up and were ratcheting up their vigilance.
“Interesting eyes,” she noted. “What is your heritage?” Rude and scary. Even Nicole knew something was incredibly wrong.
“Cael, you two have the same eyes,” Nicole mumbled.
“I was thinking the same thing, Ms. Lawless,” Brianna said. Huh?
“You are a lawyer named Lawless?” I gawked at Nicole. “How did that happen?” Why had that not registered when I went to Nicole’s office? Oh yeah, her leading me in, eyes pleading for sex.
“That is not relevant, Mr. Nyilas,” O’Shea kept coming.
“What do you mean ‘not relevant’? Are you saying you’d hire a male escort named Quick-fire Small-Penis?” I wondered. “If so, you are a more trusting soul than I.”
“Why are you avoiding my question?” Brianna queried.
“Why are you asking questions I clearly don’t want to answer?” I retorted.
“Cael, please don’t antagonize my client’s representative,” Nicole was playful yet concerned.
“No problem Nicole Lawless, Attorney at Law,” I grinned to her. I gave her a secretive butt squeeze then made to leave. Miraculously, Brianna let me slip by. The deceptiveness of that kindness was revealed when I stepped outside and found the limo… with another bodyguard standing beside the front passenger door.
O’Shea/Mom’s double was hot on my heels. As I turned and headed up the street, she grabbed my right arm.
“Why don’t we go out for a late bite to eat,” she stated. I wasn’t being invited. I was being told.
“No can do,” I shrugged off her hand. “I promised my Father to leave a recognizable corpse.”
“What makes you think I have sinister intentions?” she questioned. There was a lot of that going around not answering stuff, that is.
“Why do you assume you aren’t giving off the same bad vibe as a half-dozen 18th Street gangbangers on a Meth binge?” I teased. Brianna made a hand signal and the three bruisers put their hands on their guns. The closest to me moved around me to block off that escape route.
To be correct, the guy at the car door was African-American, around my height with maybe 10 kg on me. The two guarding O’Shea were a guy of Moorish decent and a woman of the English Midlands. I knew this because I was afraid and making shit up.
“Was I supposed to be impressed with the quiet appeal of desperation you exhibited by playing patty-cake with yourself,” I kept smiling.
“Or are these three supposed to scare me?” I chuckled. “Here… in downtown Manhattan; one of the few places on the planet Earth trying to rival London in video surveillance.”
“Video evidence can be altered,” Brianna gave me a wicked gleam.
“Was that supposed to be your Evil Henchwoman voice?” I kept snickering.
“If so, get a refund from that mail-order firm you took lessons from,” I grinned.
“You appear to be rather fearless, and obstinate,” O’Shea nodded. “Foolishly so.”
“Lady, I’m staring into the face of my dead Mother who is trying to get me into a limo with three goombahs who think they are intimidating. They are not,” I pointed out.
“This whole weekend has been a disaster, so me beating the crap out of those three, you and the driver isn’t going to change a damn thing,” I enlightened them. The Moorish guy extended a collapsible cane.
“You seem very confident,” she informed me.
“Of course I am,” I stated. “You haven’t spotted my bodyguard yet, meaning all of you are truly screwed.”
“Why would you have a bodyguard?” she inquired.
“Why would you want to know?” I countered.
“Do you practice being irritating, or is an innate talent?” Brianna regarded me.