The wind collided into the side of the building, did a little dance, bounced off the opposite skyscraper and swirled under the concrete stilts, obligingly designed by an architect who had never tried to sit between two colossal structures and read a magazine. Reydon called them turbulent tunnels. But then he was a copywriter at an advertising agency and alliterations always buzzed around his head.

It was an ill wind though. Walking by came the woman of his office fantasies. Lois

O'Leary worked in the media buying department. They had the coffee machine in their section. Reydon was becoming caffeine poisoned. Every conceivable excuse he'd go and get the coffees. Any reason to ogle Lois. Now she tripped daintily along, skirt lifting in the swirling wind. Oh for a mini tornado, Reydon lasciviously thought, his eyes riveted to the exposed thighs. Did he detect white cotton panties, or was that just wishful thinking?

"Hi Rey,"  Lois called in that peculiar accent she had. It sounded like a cartoon character. Perfect body, more sex appeal than was legal in a lot of states and the wet dream of most of the males in the agency. So you couldn't have everything. Perhaps she could keep her mouth shut when I'm making love to her, Reydon romanticize. Then he had a wicked thought where Lois wouldn't be able to close her mouth - well not completely!

"What you reading, Rey?"

He smiled and tried to keep his eyes meeting hers. It didn't work. Within seconds Reydon had roamed over her body, dwelt on the uplifted breasts, lingered on the bare midriff, marveled at the taunt stomach and fought down an erection just thinking about her thighs.

"Reydon!"
 

she broke into his sensual musings and sat next to him. 

This must be his lucky day. A flash of Lois's loins as she sashayed across the square, now SHE was sitting so close. 

"Hey, Reydon, don't you speak, hon?"

Eventually sense got through the erotic layer, which most doctors know encases male brains, but is never medically spoken about.

"Just a magazine, Lois."

"I can see that, Rey, it's one of those porno mags."

He died there and then. What a geek, he internally shouted at himself. Caught reading, and breathing heavily over a girlie mag. Lois is gonna think I'm a creep. It will be all over the office this afternoon. Reydon is a pervie - he could hear it now.

"Do ya, like go for that, Rey?"

"It's not." he stopped. Saying it wasn't his was worse than being honest and labeled a pervert. 

"Sometimes," he shrugged and tried to make it sound casual. "No big deal, is it?" he added, and seeing Lois's face wished he hadn't.

"Okay, see you then, Rey," the dark eyed Miss O'Leary signaled with an exaggerated hand gesture. With that, his slim chance of shafting the media department sex kitten shrunk from batting zero to minus. He'd blown a possible blow job, screwed up a fancy screw and fucked up any fumble in the office. 

He folded the magazine up, slipped it surreptitiously into his coat and walked slowly back to the office, wondering if Lois had already branded him a sexist pig. 

§§§

Not a word. Zilch reaction. Reydon Franker sat at his deck and stared at the computer screen. His dark foreboding wasn't necessary. Visions of seeing twenty foot banners with 'Franker the Wanker' were a product of his mind's feverish over-activity.

Reydon switched on the computer and tried to concentrate on writing copy for 
'LifeSave - the insurance company for the whole family.'  Most of the families in the district weren't whole. They were typically broken, busted and dysfunctional. Advertising still lived in a perfect world. No problems that couldn't be solved. Be positive, draw a line and move on; go forward. Fucking clichés, he huffed.
 

"Ping," went the computer. You have email, Reydon, he said to himself.  What a surprise.  He, along with millions of other sad folk, got so much emails. Nothing but goddamn emails.

It was from Lois. Here comes the flame, he thought.

"Hi Rey. Been thinking. If I was one of those models in your pretty mag what would you ask me to do?"

"Sweet Geez,"  he mumbled and quickly looked around to see if anyone was near and looking at his screen.

His fingers played nervously with the keyboard. What the fuck should he write? Was she playing a game? Leading him on?

He typed, "Like, hey I bet you think its sexist, don't you?"

Reydon gulped as he tapped, SEND!. He knew that not more than a few hundred feet along the corridor, Lois sat on her pretty fanny reading the reply.

"Ping." Another message.

"No, Rey, it's real cool. Would I be wearing some outfit or do you see me as a naked model?" 

Sweat formed on his brow. He wiped it off with the back of his hand. His mouth became dry and images of Lois formed in his head. Sense told him to back off and go slowly. When a dark eyed sexpot emailed like that, the brain isn't usually the organ that does the thinking.

"You could start off wearing a bra and panties with matching long stockings. But you'd have to take them off when I asked." For a trillionth of a second he hesitated at the words he'd type. Then his cock said, Go on send you coward. If you don't want her, I do!

Back to work. Every second expecting the head of the department to tap him on the shoulder and ask him to come to his office and explain the lewd emails he was sending the innocence Lois O'Leary, who at this very moment was having counseling because of Reydon Franker's lascivious corrupting emails.
 

"Ping"  From Lois. "That means you'd see all my body, Reydon. And I just know you'd want me to pose in suggestive ways, wouldn't you?"

One word reply from Reydon. "Yes."

One word reply from Lois. "How?"

"What the hell is keeping you, Reydon?"  Six words from the creative director standing behind him. He almost died.

"What, Alex?"

"Copy, Reydon. We're waiting to typeset the copy for the advert, dummy."

"Two minutes, Alex. I'll email it along."

Waiting for Alex to go. Finished the copy. Then he gets hot and wants to answer Lois. Types in, "Laying back on a white sofa with your legs apart and pushing your breasts together."

Sends copy to designer, and reply to Lois. Sweat becomes a cold, heart stopping moment. Did he send to the right place. Is the designer sitting at his AppleMac figuring out what breasts pushed together have got to do with an insurance company. That fright gets rid of his erection.

"Ping." From Lois. "If that's what you wanna do then you'd better make a date. Now you gotta do something for me, Rey. If  I ain't got no clothes on then don't be shy, you gotta show me what your hiding in those tight jeans of yours. I've seen you by the coffee machine looking at me and your bulge growing so hard. Waiting for your call. Kiss and lots of promise, Lois your sexy model."

The next ping was his zip nearly bursting open with the quickest stiffy he'd ever had. He sat rigid - in more senses than one - google eyed and unable to move. One last test. From Reydon. "If you're serious, Lois, I'll ring you tonight. What's your number?"

"Ping." From Lois. "Honey, I'm serious and waiting. I'm sitting at my computer with my hand secretly down under the desk, slowly frigging myself. Rubbing those white panties you saw down in the square when my dress blew up. I'm wet, Reydon, and thinking its you in me. Number follows."

From Reydon. "I'll call at about eight, okay?"

From Lois. "You'd better. Still working myself. Are you getting hard? If you give yourself relief save some for me, love Lois."

That was it. Reydon got up and shuffled across the room. He went out in the corridor, got to the outside door, pushed through and took a deep gulp of fresh air. Tanya and Libby leaned against the side door having a cigarette, banned in all the offices. Reydon gave up smoking two years ago. He cajoled the girls for a cigarette. Took a long puff, shook himself and decided to take a walk.

§§§

Reydon shared the apartment with Billy. With five minutes to go till eight o'clock he wanted him out. Anywhere. He'd give him the money to go to a bar and drink himself stupid. The conversation with Lois was going to be steamy. Reydon didn't want no snoopy guys listening in.

"Bye, Reydon."

"Bye, Billy."

Would it be cool to call dead on time, early, late? Hell, he couldn't wait. Find the number. Key it in. Its ringing. Geez, she ain't answering. She's stood me up. "Hi, this is Lois."

Control breathing, "Hi Lois, Reydon here. It's eight o'clock."  What a dumb thing to say. She fucking well knows its eight o'clock. She's a dark eyed lady, not a blonde bimbo.

"You said eight, Lois."

"That's right, Rey."

"How are you?"  I don't believe I said that. The girl invites me to call and talk dirty. and I ask her how she is.

"I'm fine, Rey. Hey, listen, this stuff about modeling and posing, I've been thinking. I don't wanna do that."

"No, Lois?"

"No, Rey."

"I've been reading this book, Rey."

"What kinda book?"

"One my friend gave me. I told her about you and what you suggested."

Here it comes. Some interfering so called friend has told her I'm a no-good creep.

"You still there, Reydon?" 

"Sure, Lois."

"This book was all about bondage."

"Bondage!"

"It says being tied up makes you feel sexy."

"Tied up!"

"Submitting sexually totally to someone is the new vogue."
"Submitting!"

"Is your line okay, Rey?"

"Sure. Why?"

"You keep repeating what I say, like you can't hear me or something."

This has got to be better than watching her model in the nude. Is she for real?

"Rey, are you there? What are you doing?"

"Listening to you, Lois." 

"Do'ya know what I'm doing?"

"Listening to me?"

"Apart from that."

"No, Lois."

"I'm laying on my bed."

"Are you?"

"What do'ya think I'm wearing, Rey?"

"Don?t know?"

"Just my little G-string, Rey. Would you like me to take it off?"

"Okay."

"Ask me, Rey."

"Take off your G-string, Lois."

"I'm slipping it down now, Rey. Now listen."

"What are you doing, Lois?"

"I've been gliding the phone over my pussy. Now it's all moist. Did you hear it?"

"Yes."

"Rey?"

"Yes, Lois."

"Will you undress for me, Rey? Put down the phone and tell me when you are naked."

As Reydon slipped his clothes off he wondered what the heck he was doing? but not too deeply. His loins blotted out his brain cells.

"I'm here again, Lois."

"Naked, Rey?"

"Yes."

"Is your cock stiff?"

"Yes."

"If you were here with me, Rey, and I was tied up on this bed, what would you do?  My wrists bound securely with my arms stretched up, making my breasts taunt and nipples invitingly upright. Legs wide apart and ankles lashed with strong rope wound around the bottom of the bed. Can you see me like that, Rey?"

"I'd love to, Lois."

"You can, Rey. Just tell me what you would do to me. Don't leave any detail out."

Reydon Franker sprawled back on the sofa in his apartment, then rolled on his stomach, aware of his massively rigid erection. He slowly moved against the fabric of the sofa, dreaming it was Lois's dark downy pubic triangle.

"I can here your heavy breathing, Rey. What you doing?"

Reydon heard the voice and had to think where he was. His body and mind were in a fantasy world. Lois lay under his prone body, waiting, willing and ready to be fucked.

"Sorry, Lois, I dropped the phone," he extemporized.

"Thought you'd decided to get your thrills in your own hands and not wait for me, Rey."  Lois suggestive laughter ran from a high pitch giggle and slid all the way down to the low notes of the sexual scale. "Anyway, Rey, I'm waiting for you to tell me what you are gonna do to me. Now remember babe, you have to both punish and reward me. That's the way they do it in this book I read."

"I'd tie you up and..." Reydon started, hardly able to get the words out.

"Hey, sorry, Rey, someone's at the door. Tell you what lover. Think about it and when we get to work tomorrow you come right out and tell me. Oh, and Rey, when I say COME right out, I mean it." The rest got lost in a fit of hysteria and air kisses. The phone went dead.

Reydon lay for at least ten minutes. He got up and walked into his bedroom. Sweat covered his naked body. He went into the bathroom and lent exhausted against a wall. Glancing toward the full length mirror he even amazed himself at the long lasting erection looking back at him.

"Geez! I'm gonna fuck you with this, Lois O'Leary,"  he muttered and wondered what he should do between now and tomorrow. 

§§§

Seven thirty in the morning. As Reydon hurried through the main lobby, the security guard looked up from his desk, smiled, looked down, then opened his eyes and stared in astonishment at the geek from the second floor. He had him down as a just about arrive at nine character. 

"What's up, they burned down your apartment, mister?"

Reydon had no idea what he was talking about. When you are on a sexual high sarcasm goes right over your head. You ain't got nothing in your thoughts accept sex. Maybe just a bit of room for food and sex, and a tiny space for work and sex. But mainly its sex with sex. When Reydon leapt up the stairs, ignoring the elevator, the guard puffed his cheeks and felt civilization as he knew it was near the end!

One hour twenty minutes, Reydon sat at his computer. Every reflection he saw in his monitor made him turn around to see if it was Lois arriving. His desk was positioned at the end of the office right by the door. He'd always taken it badly, being put there. Sort of paranoid about it. Like he was an outcast. Still, this morning he got to see everyone arriving.

"Well, Reydon, see you're writing copy in the morning now. Always thought you guys never got any inspiration tell at least mid-afternoon." The creative director's turn at irony also went way passed Reydon. 

"What you writing?"

"Oh, some copy for Lois!"

"Pardon?"

"Sorry, I meant. breasts, no, a brief."  Reydon's brain had become disengaged. Lois O'Leary sashaying into the office, passed his desk and walking slowly, but with sooooo much feeling, toward media buying. All this fucking time waiting to speak to her and this creep has to stand there talking some nonsense, Reydon fumed to himself. 
 

The creative director gave Reydon a look so thickly spread with contempt that you could make it into a sandwich. He shrugged and left the demented copywriter to well whatever wordsmiths did.

Writing copy was the last thing Reydon could do.

"Ping." An email. From Lois. "Hi big boy. How are you this morning?"

Immediate answer. Reydon's fingers flayed the keyboard. "I've got a super idea, Lois. You're gonna love this bondage. Your submission will have a real cool punishment and a delicious reward. Shall I tell you now or later?  Love, Reydon."

No return. Plenty of emails, nothing from Lois. He was just about to make an excuse with the coffee game when, "Ping." From Lois. "Sorry about that delay. Jimmy, our section head, has been leaning on my desk leering down my blouse at my breasts. He's been trying to come on to me for almost a year. He's got a reputation as some stud. Donna went out with him last month and says she gave him a blow job - and hasn't had that much in her mouth since she bought a treble layer giant hamburger from the stall on the corner of Sheriton and 2nd. I'll get back real soon, must finish a media schedule."

"Is this lady trying to send me mad?"  Reydon said, louder than he wanted to. Two men along the room looked at him. He smiled wanly. Fifteen minutes elapsed.

Reydon to Lois email. "Can I tell you now.  Please, Lois. It's a great bondage session."

"Ping." From Lois. "Hey, after our phone call my friend Debra came around. She brought this book. I read it last night. What do you think of fetishism?"

"What about bondage, Lois?"

"Didn't we do that? Tell me what your fetish is about me, Rey."

He gazed at the screen. His mind became blank. "Obsession. You don't know what obsession is until you've seen Lois O'Leary. Partly regaining his equilibrium, Reydon tried to put the situation in perspective. Okay, so she wants fetishism. Fine. I'd talk about cannibalism if it gets me into her panties. 
 

Reydon to Lois email. "I'm in to women in uniforms."

"What do you want me to wear?" She emailed.

He wanted to email back, something I can take off easy. He resisted that approach.

"You can dress as a slave and I'm a Roman Senator."

"Yes, but what would I have on?"

"A short tunic."

"Anything underneath."

"No. While I lounge on my sofa, you will serve me grapes. As you lean over to place them on the table I will run my hand up your thighs and feel you."

"Feel me where, Rey?"

"Where the bloody hell does she think I'm gonna feel her. In the kitchen? Get a grip.

"Between your legs. Rubbing your pussy."

"Then what?"

"I'd call you to my regal bed and make love to you."

"What if I said no. Would you force me, Rey?"

He swung back on the two rear legs of his chair. What should he answer? Did she want him to say no, and then admire his gentleness. Or did Lois yearn for rough treatment, longing to be taken whilst she protested.  Heads you get to fuck her, tails you don't get a prize.

The words appeared on his screen. Words he'd just typed. He studied them. Fate beckoned. He hit SEND.

"Lois. Anyway you want. Let's make love tonight. Reydon"

Waiting was agony. It was like his whole life depended on the outcome. He'd die if she said get lost. It was about a fuck. Yet his mind dramatized the result. If any passing deity was watching humanity - well the male sex - came out of these state of affairs badly. Brains were supposed to be in the head, not the cock.

"Ping." From Lois. "Your place or mine?"

Think Reydon! Is Billy in or out this evening?

"Your place."

"Nine o'clock?"

"Okay." 

"Ping." Again from Lois. "You bring the wine, and anything else we might need."

And another. "Rey, do you prefer lavender or rosemary body lotion?"

Reydon Franker hadn't got a hope of working any more today. Not that he'd done any copywriting.

"Lavender is fine, Lois."

He feigned a headache and went home. As he left the building the security guard muttered. "Knew coming in that early was bad for him. The lazy geek would never last."

§§§

His afternoon just got worse. The headache became a self fulfilling prophesy. He put it down to anxiety. This Lois thing getting to him. Would she, wouldn't she? He felt like a Kafka character being sent from one department to another, never sure if the form he'd just filled in for sexual satisfaction was correct or not. His imagination took control. One bizarre scene had Lois as his executioner, another his lover and then again she taunted him in a dance of the seven emails until he admitted his perversions. She made an appeal to the creative director, demanding Reydon Franker be castrated and his stuffed cock brought to the media department on a silver salver.

"Get a hold of yourself," he said, turned on the TV and flickered through the channels. The music channel had wiggling ass by the score, close ups of breasts, thighs and writhing bodies. That did him no good. Try a movie, he thought.

"Geez," he cried, as the afternoon play showed a nubile nymphomaniac jump on more beds than a hungry flee.

"What the hell is that?" He heard a digital tune. "For fuck sake, Reydon, it's your phone."

"Hello."

"What you doing at home, Reydon?" It was Lois.

"I came home early. Had a headache."
"Poor Rey. You gonna make this evening?"

"Sure, Lois. Yes, of course."
"Okay, take it easy. Just wanted to talk to you, hon."

"Thanks Lois."

"I had lunch with Sara."
"That's nice for you, Lois"

"We were reading this magazine."

"Not reading again," he moaned very low.

"What was that, Rey?"

"Nothing."

He had dichotomous feelings. Yes, he wanted to talk to Lois, but feared she might talk herself out of the date. It wasn't his decision. Nothing could stop Lois.

"This magazine, Rey."

"Yes, Lois."
"It said people should be honest at the beginning of a relationship."

Has ours begun? He mused, but kept quiet.

"Are you experienced, Rey?"

"In what?" As soon as the question came out he knew what a dork he was. What the hell did he think she meant? Experienced in electrical engineering.

"Okay, Rey, I appreciate that's come out of the blue. So why you think I'll tell you about my experience."

Do you have to? he thought.

"I listed them to Sara and she kept count. I'm not good with numbers, Rey. Even when my calculator tells me the answer I don't understand it."
"We can?t all be numerate, Lois."

"You're sure supportive, Rey. Anyway I got to twenty two."
"Twenty two!" he involuntarily blurted louder than he meant.

"I'm only counting the full sexual partners, Rey. Messing about and stuff don't count toward the total." She made it sound like a batting average.

"Have you had time to think, Rey?"

He hadn't. What the hell was he gonna say. Make up a big number? What would she think?  Say only a few - nearer the truth - and sound as if he wasn't desirable. Did she want experience or what?"

"Eighteen," he said. Why that figure? The TV was still on and a character had just said eighteen dollars. Life is so sad.

"Rey?"

"Yes, Lois."

"That's real sweet."

"What, eighteen!"

"No. That I'm more experienced than you. But, hey, I'm not adding in the multiples. Me and Sara couldn't find a section for them in the magazine quiz."

"Multiples, Lois?"

"You know, Rey. The three in a bed sessions."

His throat ceased up. His heart went into a Latin Samba rhythm and he groaned like a whale who'd just seen a logo of a harpoon on the side of a ship.

"Look, Rey, I want us to be open. This quiz in the magazine says we have to let it all hang out. Are my past experiences an issue with you?"

"No, Lois," he managed.

"You see, babe, I want us to relate and have an open friendship. I wouldn't want you to be fucking me with my legs wrapped around you and us both about to reach a climax, then wham, you go and have an issue with me over my experience."

"No, I won't do that." Rey's answer came out of his automatic reflexes. He still had the vision of Lois' legs wrapped around him.

"Did you get on with your mother, Rey?"

"What?"

"It said in the magazine that a lover, for a man, can be a substitute mother. Were you breast fed?"

"I don't know. What has this got to?"

"I understand your anger, Rey."

"I'm not angry, Lois."

"Okay, babe. Just two last questions to complete the survey in the magazine."

"Fine, Lois," he said breathing deeply.

"Are you open about your desires?"

"I think so, Lois."

"Is that a yes or no?"

"Make it a yes."

"If these desires were what society considered kinky, what of the following would you do in a relationship. A, discuss it frankly with your partner. B, Keep it a secret and do it with a stranger, or C, Just slip it in?"

"Slip it in what?"

"In the conversation with your partner, Rey. Isn't that obvious. What else would you slip in?"

"Yes, I see."

"Well?"

"Well what?"

"A, B or C, Rey?"

He?d almost forgotten the options but decided A was probably safe.

"A."

"Do ya know, Rey, I think we are compatible. I reckon we're gonna get it on this evening without any hang-ups."

"That's what I'm hoping, Lois."

"No need to hope, babe. When we're coming up for air after the third time you've fucked me tonight, you can put it all down to personal chemistry and the stars."

He almost answered, and good old fashioned sex. He kept quiet.

"See you tonight, lover. Bye, Rey."

"Bye, Lois." 
 

§§§

One, two three and four stones steps up to the front door of the apartment building. Reydon scanned down the row of names. Lois O'Leary. There it was at the bottom. He stood, self consciously, with his wine in one hand and fingers of the other poised over the buzzer. 

How long had he fantasized about Lois? Must be a year. Yes, he remembered. Last October she joined the company. He sat at his consul and Paul Zeigler, that unctuous personnel guy, escorted Lois around, introducing her to everyone. 

Reydon had watched as this sex on legs leaned against the filing cabinet laughing at the creative director?s jokes. Then Gary, one of the designers got a smile from Lois you could tuck in your pocket and bring out on miserable days for an instant erection. Even that geek Toby got two minutes talking to the dark eyed beauty.

Then Zeigler walked Lois toward the door, stopped momentarily and says, ?Oh yes, this is..um, er?Royston.?

"Reydon, Mr. Zeigler."

"Quite. This is Miss O?Leary."

The lady wore a skimpy top showing acres of bare skin. Her legs never seemed to stop. Long, and straight, right up to the tightest crotch in those fabulous jeans. Reydon looked up and the lady was looking at him as he stared at her loins. What an idiot he felt.

"Hi Rey." Right off she'd used the name Rey, not Reydon. "What are you doing?"

Reydon still hadn't pressed the buzzer. His answer that day haunted him. What did he say.

"I'm gonna get a cup of coffee."

The memory made him blanch with embarrassment. He could have said real cool like, "I'm writing important copy," or "I'm just waiting to be introduced to the most beautiful girl in the world." A bit smarmy, but it would have made him sound macho. But oh no. He blurts out about getting coffee.

Finally, Reydon pressed the buzzer.

"Hi, is that you Rey?" Lois? high pitch squeak came out of the intercom mounted on the wall.

"Sure, Lois."

"You got the wine, and everything, babe?"

"Yep."

"Oh Rey, I've been looking forward to this all evening."
"So have I, Lois."

"I've got a surprise for you, Rey."

"Really. Open the door, please. It's cold out here."

In truth it was a warm fall evening. It's just that Reydon felt a fool standing on the step talking to an intercom. Did she hear him? She went on.

"I've been reading this book, Babe."

"That good. Can you let me in?"

"You're gonna love what it says, Rey. And hey, I haven't told you but my reading ain't too good."

Reydon closed his eyes and wondered why she read so much then.

"You there, Rey?"

"Sure, Lois. I'm waiting for the door to unlock."

"Yeah, this book has diagrams. Shows you all sorts of cute things we could do. I've been practices some of them. Well, by myself" - giggle - "Stripped off and bent this way and that. Hope you like it when you see my body in all these positions, Rey?"

"Lois!"

"Okay, babe."

The sound of the automatic unlocking of the front door made Reydon startle. He pushed and went in. Right across the hall was number two. Lois O'Leary's apartment.

Reydon brushed his fingers through his hair, tucked the wine under his arm, patted his pocket to make sure he had brought everything. He stood for a moment and wondered if sex with Lois was gonna be great. Or would she insist on talking the talk and not, Reydon hoped. Geez how he hoped.

END 

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(Copyright Emy Naso)