Office Hours

CODE: D (set in the D Is For Damien storyline)

TAKES PLACE DURING (specific story): All scenes NA

PAIRING: Det. Dale Tiffen/Dr. Karen Kozak (M/F)

EXPLANATION: All righty. By now you've probably seen that Tiffen sure gets around. WHORE! This scenario was, he was being sent to a shrink as a result of his compulsive sexual urges (nyuk nyuk, I know), and...wouldn't you know it but he lands HER, too! There's a very slight nonconsensual angle to this at first, as Dr. Kozak really does not want to get involved, but all of that changes...I guess Tiffen has a way with people like that. WHOOOOORE!

DISCLAIMERS: These scenes are WAY out there in terms of believability, so please blame artistic license. (Yes, "Playing In Public" reads an awful lot like "Everybody's Here"--I know, I know.) "Hidden Video" seems at least somewhat physically impossible at points. "As Hard As You Can" most likely sucks, as I remember it took a LONG time to write; I simply did not really enjoy the "humiliation" angle. I'm not good at humiliating my characters unless it's nonconsensual, I suppose. :/

* * * * *

Office Hours

She sat crosslegged on the floor with him behind her, as she'd instructed, and placed her hands on her knees. She didn't care how silly or odd he might find the exercise; right now it was probably the best thing for him, given what she knew, which frankly wasn't very much.

"This is supposed to help you voice your thoughts," she told him over her shoulder. "You sit like this and it's supposed to bring you back, release your inhibitions, so you can talk about what you're feeling."

He didn't say anything, though she was sure that he must be giving her an odd look. She ignored it and settled herself, continuing.

"A person can easily evoke certain memories depending on the position in which they're sitting or standing," she said. "Like if you were standing on one foot when you were eating an ice cream cone, you might be able to better remember the circumstances in which you were eating it, and how it tasted, and where you were, by standing on one foot. Standing helps you remember things you did standing. Sitting helps you remember things you did sitting. Lying..." She trailed off, suddenly conscious of the soft fan of his breath on the side of her neck. He'd leaned slightly closer to her as she was talking, and his hands were lightly touching her sides.

She paused for a moment, stuck, then struggled to regain her earlier train of thought. "--Like, if you were doing something sitting, like we are now, you might better remember..." And her voice died off again just as her heart began to stir in her chest. It wasn't only her, as she'd tried to tell herself; it was him. She could hear his breathing. He'd tipped his head forward as if to examine her neck, his mouth centimeters from her; her heart started fluttering on feeling his hands, still lightly touching her sides, start to slide up slowly, under her arms, sliding down again to her waist. His breath was warm and even.

She tried one last time. "...You might remember..." Her back straightened suddenly; she was finally feeling him now, the stirring, swelling warmth where he pressed against her, his legs open on both sides of hers. He dropped one hand to fondle her in behind, rubbing his fingers up and down slowly.

Oh, God. Why didn't I wear slacks?

"This isn't a good idea," she said in a quavery voice, trying to sound in control. The truth was she felt as if she were melting. His hardness against her didn't help any. She decided that she should have known better than to try an exercise like this with someone like him.

"It doesn't have to be," he replied, his mouth still close to her; then he pressed his face slightly into her hair, as if trying to catch her scent; Karen's eyes shut at the sensation of his hands sliding up her torso, lightly unbuttoning her blouse, reaching in and under to pull down her bra and fondle her breasts. He cupped and squeezed them gently, a quiver in his breath now. Karen shivered, trying to control herself, fighting for the words that would make him stop, unable to find them.

"We shouldn't be doing this," she said weakly; he only shifted slightly, pulling her skirt up in back so that it draped over his upper legs, then pulling down her pantyhose; she stiffened again, hearing the familiar sound of a zipper being undone, and tried to stifle a gasp when he moved close and rubbed himself slowly against her.

Oh, my God, I can't believe this, I can't believe this, she thought. She couldn't believe that she'd allowed him to get this far, couldn't believe how easily she'd fallen for it, couldn't believe that now he had her skirt up and her underwear down and was pressing himself against her, rubbing slowly at the cleft between her buttocks, smooth and firm and hot. She couldn't believe that she'd let it come to this.

He caressed her hips, under her bunched-up skirt. They still sat in the middle of her office floor. He kissed her neck, trailed his hands down from under her shirt to down in front under her skirt; when he touched her there she gasped again. He rubbed her there, working her with his fingers; behind her he shifted again, moving close, his member pushing slowly between her buttocks.

Karen bit off a cry. How, how could she have let it get to this! Her fists clenched, still atop her knees; she was almost overwhelmed with relief when he didn't enter her that way, instead pushing with his hips gently. She heard his breath speed up, and found that the rubbing motion of his member between her buttocks must be giving him some amount of pleasure, if not satisfaction. He nuzzled her neck, taking her by the waist; she gasped another time when he moved her so that she nearly sat atop him, so he protruded between her legs. When she glanced down through glazing eyes she could see him there, quivering, expectant. He reached in front to spread her open and rubbed against her there; Karen fought down a moan.

"This is wrong," she whispered, shutting her eyes to block out the sight. Her fingernails were digging into her knees by now. Bolts of fire were surging up and down through her body; she ached sharply and painfully down where he touched her.

"Only if you want it to be," he breathed back, feeling her, touching her. His hands guided; he pushed into her very slightly, just with his tip, and stopped there, but this time Karen moaned aloud. He continued kissing her neck, but didn't move to penetrate her any further. Karen fought not to writhe against him, trembling and balling up her fists.

"It can be yours," he whispered, running his own fingernails lightly down her belly, up under her breasts. "Just tell me you want it."

"No." Even as she spoke she was arching, yearning to feel him inside her, knowing also how wrong it was. He was there as a potential patient of hers; she should never have let it get this far.

"I can't let you have it if you don't want it," he whispered, his mouth moving over her neck. He squeezed her hips and moved a little, feeling her responding motion. "Just tell me you do. It doesn't have to be wrong."

Oh God, oh God, how can I let this happen? How can I allow us to do this? Oh God, how can I turn him away--?

She tried to speak, could only whimper, her head hanging back. She shook her head, one last, valiant attempt to stop this before it went too far to stop; but as she did so her hands moved to his, grasping them tightly, pulling him closer to her.

Half of her prayed that he would accept her no and pull away. The other half, the half that she fought so hard, silently begged him to continue. He did pull away, and started to stand, but he pulled her up with him, not letting her go. He continued nuzzling against her neck as he walked slowly toward the side of the office and stopped at her desk, his hands guiding hers down to rest on its surface, then sliding in back of her again, pulling down her underwear further, raising her skirt, parting her slightly. She moaned again, a sound borne partly of desire, partly of anguish that she couldn't stop him, even as she felt him gently urging himself between and inside her, a soft, slight groan escaping his own throat at the feeling. She kept her hands balled on the desktop, afraid that she'd be clawing either him or herself should she pull away; he slipped his arms in front and grasped them in his own, starting to sway his hips in a slow circle, pushing inside fully, pulling out a little, pushing back in. Karen dropped her head back against his shoulder, her mouth open, her ear next to his mouth as he panted softly, in his desire rhythmic and controlled.

She caught a brief reflection of them caught in the glass over one of her pictures; it looked merely as if he were hugging her, except for the fact that now he slid his hands up to lift her skirt again, pressing against the spread of her legs, and she could see his member thrusting full and thick into her, even down there. And his eyes were closed as hers had been, his lips slightly parted; he nuzzled her ear, speaking to her softly as he moved.

"Dr. Kozak," he murmured, with just a hint of irony in his voice; then, more tenderly, "Karen." He opened his eyes and noticed her staring distractedly at the picture on her desk, a photo of her with her dog; he must have been able to see the dim but clear reflection too as she saw the slight smile on his face. He dropped his chin to her shoulder.

"You like that," he whispered, parting her legs a little further to allow her a better view of him.

She found herself nodding, mindlessly; then, "We shouldn't be doing this." She shuddered at his touch, the inflamed feeling inside her, his slow, gentle thrusting. Her hands clutched his.

"We are," he said, kissing her. He stood up straighter, lifting his head and gripping her hips. "Mmmhhh," he murmured thickly, pressing himself further inward.

Karen sucked in a breath. "This is...wrong..."

She gasped when he urged himself deeply, his hips pressing against her, groaning a thick, "Ohhh, yes," as he did so.

Please, God, don't let anybody hear us, don't let anybody find out about this...

She knew that she could get away with weird sounds coming from her office--she was, after all, a psychiatrist--yet dreaded the thought of someone overhearing one of her patients making love to her at her desk during appointment time. And apparently enjoying it. She dazedly tried to go over in her head all of the things she'd heard about Tiffen from his coworkers and the people who knew him, of which there were admittedly few, as he didn't socialize much. At least not with other men. Everyone had something to say about his apparently insatiable sexual interests; she'd heard of him having at least three steady lovers, one of them married and much older than him, the other two a half-straight, half-bisexual couple working together, as well as numerous other affairs they'd claimed he'd had, the reported number of which had led her to believe that maybe he truly did have something wrong with him. She hadn't been able to figure out what. And now he was having sex with her, too. She couldn't believe that she'd allowed him to seduce her so easily. She was never taken in so easily.

But there was something almost magnetic about him, some kind of attraction, so strong that she hadn't been able to resist it; it was the only thing she could think of, that so many other women would want him as well, including the perfectly normal ones. Like what she had thought herself to be. Impervious. So much for that.

She knew that his actual love interests must be superficial in order to sustain all of his attentions, and wondered dimly if the lovemaking itself was so. She decided that it was not; when Tiffen groaned again, breaking off in a heated pant, stroking her breasts, she realized that he truly was highly aroused and receiving extreme pleasure from having sex with her. She bit her lip, felt her stomach muscles tighten with his increasingly hurried thrusts as he began to build up toward orgasm; she was glad that she'd been taking the pill in case she went on any dates. This was certainly a situation she'd never figured on getting into.

She shut her eyes again, too, her fingernails gouging the finished wooden top of her desk, but not before glimpsing Tiffen just behind her in the glass, clenching his teeth with his eyes squeezed shut and his head raised, his hands tightly clutching her buttocks, hearing his slight, strained, urgent groaning as his muscles contracted and he thrust himself harder and fuller in an attempt to relieve himself.

This went on for a moment longer; then Karen gasped sharply, feeling now the hard, final push, hearing Tiffen grunt in relief as he released, spurting deeply inside her, feeling also the slight but definite tremor pass through his body as he climaxed, relief and exhaustion and most of all great pleasure inherent in the involuntary motion. She let out her breath and tried not to slump over the desk as her own orgasm died down, wave upon wave of rippling ecstasy passing over her. He removed himself; she heard his zipper being done back up and he bent to help straighten her out, pulling her pantyhose back up, smoothing down her rumpled skirt. When she turned to look at him she was both happy and slightly delirious with the pleasure they'd shared, and furious and irritated that she'd allowed it to happen in the first place. She could barely stand to see the open look of satisfaction in his eyes, satisfaction with both his own pleasure and her enjoyment of it. Satisfaction, she told herself, that he'd seduced her so easily into having sex with him. She felt the anger and irritation try to rise up and override the gratification she'd received, only the feelings wouldn't quite come. She couldn't quite convince herself that seduction just for the fun of it was in his nature, even with how he acted.

Hidden Video

She popped the tapes in her VCRs, turned on the TVs, and went to sit on her bed, legs crossed. She pushed PLAY on the remotes, taking a breath and letting it out. Static hissed across the screens for a moment before the TVs each showed a shady image of her bed.

She'd called him even though he was at work. Asked to see him that night. Said it was important. To her it was. He'd come, as she'd asked, and she knew he'd do with her whatever she asked. She'd been burning with fire ever since he'd first made love to her in her office, standing behind her at her desk with his hips moving slowly, inside her, his hands fondling her breasts. She had to feel that--him--again, and keep a token of it, in case they never got a third chance.

Tiffen had looked startled when she mentioned the videocameras. There were three of them; she had enough money for the TVs and VCRs already, and simply borrowed two cameras. But she knew he'd go along with it, if it was what she wanted. And he had. After it was over and he was gone she'd carefully labeled and hidden the tapes. Now she was ready to view them for the first time, alone on her bed with her hands reaching gingerly beneath her nightshirt. She had to relieve the burning fire building up inside. This would have to work.

She'd always been very flexible, and had even taken a few gymnastics courses before deciding on psychiatry. The middle TV screen showed her lying down on the bed from above, on her back, spreading herself wide and bringing her legs up beside her head. Total exposure. The left screen showed the view from the head of the bed, the right screen the view from her side. She licked her lips nervously and tried to think of this as another woman, a stranger, with herself merely watching.

Then he entered the picture. Her breath sped up. On the left and right screens she could see him approach, member full and erect, thrusting out high; on the middle screen she saw his back, lean muscles flexing as he joined her, reaching out to touch the exposed back of her thigh. She'd turned the sound on on only one video; on it she let out a wavery sigh.

She reached under her shirt and hesitantly touched herself, shivering slightly.

She followed with glazing eyes the three images of him slowly climbing into the bed, spreading his own legs, climbing atop her, mounting her. On screen one she saw his face as he bent near, panting, to kiss her. On screen three she saw his legs clasp both sides of hers. On the middle screen she saw his back arch and his buttocks contract as he thrust into her, and her own flesh beneath him quivering. Her mouth opened and shut, opened and shut. She clawed the bed.

She breathed heavily, rubbing with her fingers.

In the videos, dim and grainy, he took hold of her breasts and started moving, slow and even, up and down. She panted at the sight of his muscles flexing and relaxing as he thrust into her. The sound on the left TV, where she could barely see his face above her in the dimness, was turned on; she heard her own faint whispers. "Oh...God...oh..."

In the right image she arched continually into him, baring her neck. In the middle he almost obscured her; beneath his moving body she could see only her legs and arms and the top of her head. Her leg muscles tensed and relaxed in tandem with his motions. She could see his fingers squeezing her breasts in the first image.

She absently turned up the sound, rocking herself slowly upon the bed as her fingers massaged. The sounds of her and his heavy breathing filled the room around her. Once in a while she whimpered. When he groaned, low and guttural with pleasure, she shivered and moved a little faster.

The six on the screens moved faster, also. She favored the middle screen, where she could see him best; though on the third screen she watched him move up and down, in and out upon her. She let out a moan of need and desire--half mournful that she couldn't feel it--when he sucked on her breasts. She imagined his tongue swirling warmly around her nipple.

From the TV, her voice, gasping--"Oh, my God...oh...oh, please...God, yes..."

She relished the moment when he spoke, his voice low, husky. "Karen. Unh." He grunted thickly and spoke again as the real Karen squirmed from the heat inside her. "God, yeah...this is it...this is good...ah, this is really good...oh, yeah..." His words trailed off in a series of groans and panting. The TV Karen moaned and thrashed her head.

God, if only she could feel him in her again, right now... Nothing was going to quench this fire...

"Please," she moaned in the video.

Within moments the six on the TVs were moving more rapidly, he thrusting steadily while the bed creaked. She studied his face in the video, his bared teeth and glazed eyes.

"Please, Tiffen," her video image wailed.

He grunted. "Oh, God, yeah--unh--yeah, this is good--ah, you're damn good and tight--just the way I like it--ah, yeah, yeah, this is good--unh--"

He dropped his head. On the right screen, he pushed quickly, pulled quickly, in and out. In the middle video his thigh muscles pressed against her; his buttocks relaxed and contracted with his pumping. He panted heavily, letting out a grunt, thick and pleasured, quivering atop her.

She panted in real life, her fingers working quickly.

She was sorry that it had to end so soon, with him speeding up to a rapid thrust and then throwing back his head, groaning as she cried out "Tiffen!" and arched. She jerked on the bed to see his buttocks quiver tensely for a moment and then relax, his breath whooshing out, and relaxed herself; but even as he rolled off and the images eventually went dark she still felt unfulfilled inside, alone.

Playing In Public

Karen listened to the speaker with growing boredom. That was all that this conference had been, anyway--boring. She leaned against the back wall with a sigh, and peered at Tiffen, beside her, out of the corner of her eye. He too was watching the speaker, though more out of politeness than interest, she supposed.

As she peered at him a wild idea entered her head, and try as she might, she couldn't shake it. It was absolutely insane but--her heart started beating faster, and she knew that he'd go along with it should she ask. He definitely would.

"Hey," she whispered out of the corner of her mouth. "Have you ever done it in public?"

She suspected that he had. Which was why she was surprised by his asking, "Have you?"

She shook her head slightly. "I've been wanting to. Especially right now."

"That bored, huh?" His mouth twitched. "Where?"

"Right here." She stepped away from the wall a pace, not looking at him, staring ahead at the speaker as if entranced.

"Here?"

A short nod. "They won't see us if we're back here. The lights are low. Step behind me. Try to look like we're up to nothing."

He moved out of her line of sight. Karen stood and waited, staring ahead at the speaker's presentation on the overhead, and now hoping that it would be a long speech before the lights came back on. God, what an insane idea; she could get in horrible trouble for this if they were caught. Yet it was dark; and they seemed to be the only ones back here. And she was starting to burn inside--she'd never make it through the conference without losing it. No one would know; just a quick one, and they'd be done...no one had to find out...

She heard Tiffen slowly unzip his pants. The sound seemed deafening; yet no one turned back to look. Tiffen touched her arm briefly.

"You sure about this?"

Another nod, almost imperceptible. As far as anyone else was concerned, they were two attendees merely standing close to each other. No one needed to know otherwise.

Tiffen slowly pulled up her skirt in back. She was glad now that she'd worn it. He reached under to pull down her underwear; it was maddening how they refused to go very far, short of her shirking them off. At least she hadn't worn her pantyhose. She moved a bit, her feet set slightly apart, as apart as they could be without her stance looking suspicious. Tiffen inserted his fingers in the fleshy cleft of her buttocks, parting them. Karen held her breath; Tiffen's member, warm and stiff, slid between them; his hands held onto her hips beneath the front of her skirt, spreading her open, gently pulling her onto him. Karen wanted to whimper but managed to suppress it, closing her eyes instead. Tiffen leaned toward her ear, his breath fanning over her heated skin.

"How's that?"

She briefly clasped his arm, then let go. Tiffen's hands stayed on the front of her hips. Whether he pressed her to him, or himself to her, or both, she couldn't tell. He moved very slowly and slightly, his breath--and hers--speeding up.

He whispered to her again, very quietly, so no one but she could hear. "This is good." A slight noise, part murmur, part grunt. "You're good. Unh. Yeah. Ohhhh... Yeah, you make me hard fast. Hard for you. Hard--unnhh."

Karen's mouth opened at his faint groan. His hands clutched, fingers sinking into her skin. He moved so slowly. Damn, if only they could go faster. If only she could feel him harder and deeper; the burning was driving her mad--!

* * * * *

Celia entered the darkened room and took a post standing at the back, not wanting to disturb all those who'd shown up on time. She sighed and tried to see her watch but it was too dark. Damn. She'd have to ask someone else what she'd missed.

She turned to the right and blinked. Hey, wasn't that Karen over there? Then her problem was solved; Karen could fill her in. She'd barely started to turn in her direction when she stopped again, frowning and squinting.

What...

Karen...didn't look right. Her eyes were closed, her lips parted, mouthing silent words at the air. Despite the darkness, Celia knew some lipreading, and it looked like "Yes--please--deeper--" A man stood right behind her, his expression much similar, though he shook his head slowly, clenching his teeth. Celia saw him mouth Karen's name; he bumped forward suddenly, and Karen's chest heaved. In the dim light Celia couldn't see them very well; now, however, she noticed Karen put her hands back to the wall, the man pinned behind her; she started moving oddly, rubbing, very slowly up and down, as if scratching her back. Her silent mouthings increased. Celia now saw the man's hands run up her legs, to her buttocks, which quivered at his touch--

Celia stifled a gasp. Oh, God! They couldn't be doing what she thought they were doing-- The man rolled his hips in sync with Karen's up and down motions, and Celia could see that her skirt was in fact bunched up in back, her underwear down; the man squeezed and kneaded her buttocks, mouthing "Yeah"--she couldn't believe it, but they were having sex! Right in the conference room! In front of everybody! She covered her mouth and turned away in embarrassment. As if on cue, out of the corner of her eye Karen and the man furtively separated, Karen brushing down her skirt, the man holding his jacket in front of him; they left the room hurriedly, one after the other, disappearing in the hall.

Mortified, but wanting to know just what was going on, Celia followed at a distance.

* * * * *

Karen pushed open the bathroom door and went inside, breathing rapidly, followed by Tiffen. The burning inside her had become an inferno; their slow discreet lovemaking wasn't enough to put it out. They had to have some privacy, right now, to complete their coupling.

"I can't take it," she panted, her voice husky. She hurriedly pushed her underwear down further, hiked up her skirt. "We have to do this. Get in me, Tiffen. Get in me now, God, please."

She leaned on the sink. Tiffen pulled away his jacket. He hadn't lost his erection; or else, he'd maintained it. He granted Karen's desperate request; a second later the two of them were rocking over the sink, Tiffen heaving himself at Karen like a bull in rut.

Karen gasped for breath, reaching one hand between her legs, squeezing and caressing his testicles. Tiffen groaned. Karen tipped her head back, standing on her toes, welcoming him in.

Over their panting, the soft slap of their skin, she heard something outside the bathroom. In the hall. Her heart sped up again, this time from fear.

"Someone's coming," she whispered, breaking away again and leading him to a stall. They shut the door behind them and she crouched down by the toilet, peering under the divider.

A moment passed. Karen waited. Nothing happened; the door didn't open. She suddenly felt Tiffen's hand on her back.

She glanced back. "Tiffen--"

"I have to have you now," he whispered back, his voice urgent. "I have to be in you."

"We should wait--"

"I can't wait." He crouched down behind her, unbuckling his pants and pulling them down to his knees. Karen's skirt was pushed back up out of the way. His hands seized her buttocks, parting them almost brutally; Karen gasped and the detective had entered her again, thrusting fully and grunting in pleasure.

Karen clung to the toilet seat, submitting to his lust. Her back arched; she pushed, driving herself back onto him. A ragged groan greeted her; Tiffen's voice came, thick and hoarse.

"Some idea. I need you more now--more--" He thrust upwards, groaning loudly.

"I'm hot," Karen panted back. "I need you. I need your heat."

"I need you around me," he rasped, moving faster. "I need to be inside--oh. Unh. Oh, God, yeah. Yeah, this is good. This is good. This--ah. Ah. Ah! Ah! Yeah! Yeah!"

Tiffen moved faster. His hands clutched her hips, swiveling her faster as well. Forgetting her fears, she started crying out with him.

* * * * *

Celia silently entered the bathroom, careful to arouse nobody's interest, only to find that the occupants were too otherwise engaged to even notice her. Even outside the door she could hear their noises, and inside could make out some of the words--

The man--"Oh--God, Karen--oh--yes--oh, good--you're good--oh, oh, unh--unh--unh--"

Karen--"Oh, Tiffen--yes--go deeper--further--please--stick me, stick me deep--ride me--please, Tiffen--oh--God, yes--oh--"

Stomach churning, Celia bent over to look under the stalls.

The second one was occupied. Beneath the divider she could see a woman's legs, as if she were throwing up in the toilet--quivering and spread wide, underwear down, skirt bunched up. Behind them, a man's legs--pants and underwear bunched around the knees, buttocks contracting and releasing rapidly, hips pushing. Coupling. With Karen.

Karen moaned aloud. Her feet twisted, as if with strain. The man's hips moved faster--both crying out--"Oh--Tiffen--Tiffen--fill me up now--come on!"--"Karen. Karen. Ungh. This is all for you. All of me. Oh. God, yeah--yeah--unh. Unh! Unh! Unh--!"

His words trailed off in a stream of frantic grunting. Karen's small cries accompanied him. Celia covered her mouth; the man's hips pumped forward forcefully, his buttocks trembled; Karen cried out with him and arched in climax. A second later the two sagged against each other, gasping brokenly.

Celia stood again and quickly left the bathroom. She didn't think she could take any more; this had already gone too far. She couldn't believe that Karen would do something this crazy, this--risky. She'd have to have a talk.

* * * * *

Karen and Tiffen leaned over the toilet for a good while, panting and attempting to catch their breath. Not everything had gone as Karen had planned--she'd thought that she could control herself--but at least the burning was taken care of. When she finally tried to stand up Tiffen moved; she got to her feet and reached for her underwear but he stopped her. She looked up at him and realized that the burning had been taken care of--but only for her.

"I need you again," he whispered, his eyes smoldering.

Karen tugged at her shirt a little, still breathing heavily. "We don't know when the meeting might be over. This has already gone too much further than it should. Someone could come along any minute."

"We can go fast." He touched her chin. "Then tonight, you could come over and we could go slow..." He tipped her head up and kissed her neck.

Karen's heart thumped. "How slow?" she whispered.

She sensed, rather than saw, him smiling. "As slow as you want. I could please you for hours. I've done it before. I can do it again."

"Could we mouth each other?"

"If it's what you want."

She smiled coyly. "Could you tie me down?"

He met her eyes and smiled back. "You know I like what you like."

"All right." She pushed herself up, removing her underwear completely and sitting down on the toilet, legs spread. "But we have to do this fast. Before anyone else comes in."

He didn't say a word more; he didn't have to. Following Karen's suit, he removed his pants and underwear, joining her, hoisting her up onto him--his stiffened member thrust up into her almost painfully--and started pushing. His fingers sank into her skin; he pulled her to him with every thrust, uttering hoarse cries of pleasure. Karen was more surprised now than lustful; she still couldn't quite understand what it was with him, the magnetic sexual attraction he had for almost all women, his positive response to all of them, his incredible stamina. He hadn't been lying to her before; they'd made love many times since they'd first met in her office, and on two of those occasions they'd started late in the evening; she'd been insatiable, and he'd complied with everything she asked, and by the time she was too exhausted to continue and he was massaging her sore muscles, she'd glanced at the clock to see how much time had passed so it was now morning. Both times they'd gone at it for nearly four hours. It took him only about ten minutes after coming to be ready for her again; and he always outlasted her, no matter what she had him do. He never seemed to tire of their loveplay or get bored with it. Indeed, every completed act only seemed to fuel him on--as if each one made him stronger, gave him more energy. It was a silly idea, she knew; but she could think of nothing else to explain it. Tiffen appeared to thrive on sex the way that most people thrived on food and air.

She'd been distracted; she tried to bring her mind back to the present, to keep her wits about her in case the door should open. Tiffen continued pushing into her, his muscles tightening with each thrust. Her legs hugged him; their skin rubbed together. He'd quit crying out, but he still panted hoarsely, and his movements were hurried, even more hurried than they usually were when they didn't have much time. He was good at accommodating her with that, too; on the occasions when he stayed the night at her house, or she at his, and she had to leave earlier than he, only to wake up with the burning in her, he'd willingly complied with her requests, coupling with her quickly, bringing them both to climax in under ten minutes. The first time they'd gone that fast Karen had screamed and bolted upward from the shock. She'd never been able to come so quickly before and the sensation had been startling, to say the least. No matter which way she wanted it, Tiffen was always ready to oblige.

As if he'd been reading her mind, he jerked into her, pressing her back against the toilet, and she felt his orgasm, and then her own; she gasped and held him to her. The moment his flow had stopped, he carefully and quickly stood up, letting her down and helping her retrieve her clothes. They silently dressed in the tiny stall, straightening each other out as best as they could. He took her arm and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek, squeezing her hand.

"Remember what I said," he prompted in a low voice. "Tonight at my place. We can have dinner."

"That's not all you'll have," Karen said, with a short smile. He smiled back and she unlatched the door and stepped out of the stall.

As Hard As You Can

Karen took a breath and let it out. "I want you to hurt me."

He looked startled, just as she'd expected. "Hurt you?" he echoed, as if unclear on what she meant.

She nodded, a little hastily. "I--it's what I want you to do. Physically."

He hesitated, and then shook his head a little. "I don't know if it's a good idea, Ka--"

"It's what I want." She cut him off before she could lose her nerve. She met his eyes. "Look. It doesn't matter how you do it. But I'd really want you to. I've just been--I just keep thinking about it, in my mind, and I can't get any sleep. I have to do it that way or I'll be thinking about it forever."

Tiffen paused again, looking a little uncomfortable. She doubted that he'd ever looked that way before. He shrugged one shoulder.

"What exactly do you want me to do, then?"

"I don't know." She paused herself before looking around. "Do...do you carry your handcuffs on you?"

He frowned a bit but nodded.

Karen started to undo her blouse. He just watched her as she undressed, looking up at him as she pulled her underwear off over her feet.

"I want you to cuff me to the bed. You can tie my ankles...maybe with my clothes. On my stomach."

"On your stomach?" He sounded appalled.

She nodded. "We're not affectionate," she said, averting her eyes. "You don't like me and I don't like you. I want you to treat me that way. Like you hate me. Like I'm not willing."

She could tell that this was the one thing that didn't turn him on. She hoped that she could change his mind. "Karen--"

"I need this," she said forcefully. He gave up trying to dissuade her and pulled out his handcuffs. She let him take her hands and lead her to the head of the bed, cuffing her to the metal bars. She climbed up and lay on her stomach; he took her right ankle and tied it to the right foot of the bed, doing the same with her left ankle so she lay spreadeagled on her stomach.

She tried to slow her breathing a little. "You have to hit me," she said, her voice coming out muffled. She tried to see him over her shoulder. He hadn't undressed, and just stared at her. "Yell things at me. Make me feel worthless."

"How hard?"

As hard as you can. "As hard as--as hard as you can without seriously injuring me." She thought that it might be bad showing up at work with a broken rib or two. She paused. "Try your belt."

He appeared to wince but backed out of her line of vision. She heard a slight rustling noise. A moment later something whistled through the air and she felt the sharp crack of leather against her back, and let out a shriek.

Tiffen winced again. He didn't like doing this. It didn't excite him at all. Yet it was what she'd asked for. He brought back the belt and struck her again, leaving a long red welt on her skin. She buried her face against the bed and let out a muffled cry, shaking.

She bit into the pillow and tried to breathe as she did so. The lashes felt like razors cutting her skin. She felt Tiffen grab the back of her neck and stifled a cry when he bent close and whispered viciously in her ear.

"You bitch," he hissed. "You think you're ever good enough for me to do you? Take a look around. There's plenty of other people a hell of a lot better than you."

She sucked in a ragged breath, tears starting to leak from her eyes. He shoved her head back down and lashed at her back again, causing her to jerk.

"This is what you like, isn't it?" She knew that he was only acting, for her sake, but the ugly tone of his voice sounded real enough. The belt licked at her again. "You're sick enough to prefer this. I guess it's the only thing you can get, huh? Nobody in their right mind would want to screw an ugly bitch like you."

She moaned into the pillow. The leather struck her again, and again, and she sobbed. She suddenly felt a pressure against her back, and her head was yanked back by the hair. She sniffled and whimpered as he looped the belt around her neck and let her head fall again. She hadn't expected whatever this was, but it caused tremors to run up and down her body.

His voice in her ear again, low and deadly. "If this is how you want it I'll treat you like the dog you are, leash and all."

She gasped and jerked. That sounded convincing! He pulled away, and she felt him climb up and straddle her, one hand holding onto the belt while the other pushed her buttocks apart. He viciously pinched one, causing her to squeal. He inserted his fingers in her anus and prodded, making her body stiffen.

"The stupid little bitch-dog likes this? Figures that she would..."

He gave her no warning. One moment he had pulled his fingers out of her, letting her let out her breath and relax, and the next he was upon and inside her with a harsh thrust and a grunt. She shrieked and pulled at her restraints, rattling the cuffs. He leaned down and bucked his hips into her hard. She cried. He started pumping at her rapidly, bouncing, driving her down into the bed and knocking the breath out of her. The springs creaked and he panted heavily. Her wrists felt raw already. She buried her head against the pillow and cried.

"Does the bitch like this?" Tiffen shouted, though his voice wasn't as angry anymore. He didn't particularly like the mode of action, though she knew that he liked the action itself, if the pleasure in his tone was any indication. "Does the bitch--like--this?"

Thrust--thrust--thrust. Karen wailed as her lover bore down onto her, teeth bared and eyes glinting with lust. She struggled valiantly, but to no avail. In truth though her struggles were brought on by incredible pleasure. The feelings coursing through her were so strong that she couldn't contain them; she tried to thrash, rattling against the bedframe. Her legs pulled at their cloth restraints, jerking her back and forth. She lifted her head and screamed at the ceiling.

He yanked on the belt, cutting off her cry so it came out as a choked cough. When he let go her head fell back to the pillow. Oh God! She trembled wildly and a second later moaned and arched, buttocks spreading wider. His testicles slapped against her backside as he panted and thrust. Oh God, how she wanted to just bend her knees, allow him entry, as deeply as he liked...

"Tiffen," she cried into the pillow.

He let out a low husky growl. Shivers ran down her back. He yanked on the belt again, jerking her head up; a moment later his tongue licked the side of her face and she let out her breath in a heavy gasp.

"Doggie speaks? Huh?" he whispered. "What does the bitch have to say? Speak up, you little bitch."

"I--I--love you--M--Master..." Karen whispered back, voice breaking. Her eyes remained shut. If she opened them and caught sight of even their shadows moving on the wall, she'd lose it.

He gave a breathless laugh. "Bitch'd better like what her master gives her. 'Cause she's gonna be getting a whole lot more!"

He emphasized this with a particularly brutal thrust. Her body bucked beneath him. Her fingers clenched and she felt herself come, dampening the already wet bed. Still he bounced atop and inside her, grunting madly. She had no idea how long they'd been going, but with the way that her muscles were aching it felt like forever. She couldn't stand it much longer. She was growing weak, yet the fire blazed up hotter and even hotter the longer he went on. She felt all of her muscles slowly tensing in anticipation of his climax, knowing that it would feel a hundred times better than the meager one she'd already experienced.

"Tiffen--Tiffen--TIFFEN--!"

"Unh. Come on--come on, bitch--come on--"

Karen's cry grew into another loud, drawn-out wail. It grew higher and higher and louder in intensity and need. Tiffen's shout joined it, also going up, up; he tossed back his head as he rode her hard and furiously, their hips spasming. When Karen finally screamed in frustration he climaxed hard and noisily, letting out a triumphant, guttural yell; she felt his warm seed spraying inside her, tensed, and released a second later, their cries merging into one. The fluid slowly drained from their bodies and they let out their breath and began to sink, slowly, slowly...Karen's head sank into the soft damp pillow, and her limbs went limp. She panted heavily as exhaustion took hold of her, threatening to draw down her eyelids without her consent. Oh God. That had been so good.

A light hand touching her arm. She whimpered. She turned her head slightly to see Tiffen kneeling over her, limp penis dangling wetly between his legs; he unlocked the handcuffs and pulled them off of her, guiding her arms down. He crawled back to untie her legs and she sank even further, for some time unable to move.

That was all right. He did it all for her. She felt his now-gentle hands take the belt away from her neck and carefully roll her over onto her back. She blinked bleary eyes to look up at him. His face swam before her for a minute before he leaned down to give her a kiss. There was nothing insulting or demanding about it. His fingers brushed the sticky hair from her face and he gave her a very slight smile.

"Well? How was it?"

Karen blinked a few times, then smiled and shifted with a sigh. "It was perfect. Absolutely perfect..." She reached up her arms and accepted him when he brought himself down to press close to her. They caressed and giggled in the dimness, kissing and touching and even rolling about slowly and playfully, legs tangling. She'd greatly enjoyed what she'd needed most. Now...they could both have some real fun.

She knew that he agreed most heartily as soon as his tongue was flicking over her swollen lower lips, and giggled and arched herself. She couldn't wait to taste what he had waiting for her. From what she could see of its quivering pink and purple hardness, dripping with pearly fluid, it would be most delicious, most delicious indeed...she smiled and licked her lips and lowered her head, and opened her mouth, and came down...

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This item is not looking for critique. It was written solely for entertainment's sake. Although a scene from a possibly longer story, it is complete in itself and unless otherwise stated there is not going to be any more of it written. Additional unrelated SCENES may be written, but single scenes themselves are complete as they are. So please do not expect more. If you are interested in reading the series which INSPIRED the scene, just look elsewhere in my portfolio and you should find something. (Use the "story codes" given in the scene headers. For example, "MI" = "Manitou Island" series.)

I am not looking for critique on grammar, spelling, style, sentence structure, flow, or the mechanics of writing. What I AM interested in is commentary on such things as characterization, plot, symbolism, theme, etc.--the deeper aspects of the story. I like to know if a scene is believable, if the characters are interesting, what you thought of how they interacted, if the writing evoked any emotions, things such as that.

Feel free to criticize, but just keep in mind that I'm working on more important projects and shared this just for fun and/or to illustrate character interactions, so I don't plan to revise it any time soon. Comments on the characters, theme, etc. are more than welcome.