Chapter 14: A SURPRISING INTERVIEW
Eric Workman lives on Pleasant Street and, like me, he's a writer. He's a freelancer, and does a lot of "personality" type stories about famous people. He generally writes about people who are prominent in various fields and who are famous because of the contributions they're making to society.
Lynnette Abrams, a prominent feminist, is conducting a seminar at our local college and Eric has an appointment to interview her. He mentioned to me a few weeks ago that he is supposed to do a piece on her for a national magazine and got lucky when she opted for the local speaking engagement.
Lynnette Abrams is a strident feminist, the kind of woman who is the epitome of "feminazi" as a famous radio talk-show host describes them. She's also incredibly attractive. To put it bluntly, Lynnette Abram is, unquestionably, a hot woman. And Eric Workman isn't a bad-looking guy. What do you think will happen when Eric has his interview with Ms. Abrams? Could it be that...?
THANK YOU FOR TALKING WITH ME, MS...
"There are times..." Eric Workman thought as he sat in the motel room, "being a journalist isn't all it's cracked up to be."
He was scheduled to do an interview with Lynnette Abrams, a noted feminist who was in the area to conduct a seminar on empowering women at a local university.
The woman in questions, who was at that time pacing back and forth in the room, was quite attractive. Although she wore no makeup, her skin was flawless, and her face was incredibly pretty. She had close-cropped black hair and a slim build.
"I should have known they'd send a man to do this interview," she huffed. "I ought to know by now that I have to ask for a female interviewer."
She wore a linen suit, with a long plaid top with padded shoulders and natural colored skirt, which hugged her lower half and ended just above her shapely knees. A hint of lace top showed at the neckline of the jacket.
"I'm a freelancer and I happen to live here in town, that's why I was picked," Eric replied. He kept his voice calm and forced himself to sound apologetic.
"I suppose that means you'll report what I say from the male perspective," the feminist icon huffed. Her gray-green eyes sparkled as she spoke. "You'll write another of those sneering, leering pieces."
"She dresses pretty sexy for a feminist," Eric thought, making notes on his pad. He smiled. "I try to write my stories objectively," he told her. "I don't write biased pieces."
"Hah!" she snorted. "That will be the day that a man covers what I say properly."
Eric was getting exasperated. "Look, why don't you give me a break?" he said. "I'm just trying to do my job, here."
"There were no women who could have done this interview?" Ms. Abrams' tone of voice turned suspicious.
"Probably," Eric said. "But I was the one assigned." "This wasn't an interview, it's a harangue," he thought. He had half a mind to leave. "What she probably needs is a hard cock! Actually, she's pretty damn attractive, that might be fun!" Without realizing it, he smiled.
"Do you think I'm funny, Mr. Workman?" Abrams said, glowering at him.
Eric sighed. "No, I don't," he replied. "I was just thinking about something."
"What?" she asked. "What were you thinking about?"
"Nothing that matters," Eric said. He couldn't tell her he was thinking about fucking her. She'd probably deck him. "Why are you so paranoid about having a man interview you?" he asked. "Are you saying men are not as capable as women?"
The woman stopped pacing and looked at him. Surprise showed on her face. "I...I wasn't implying that," she said.
"Then what were you implying?" Eric asked. He no longer cared whether he pissed her off or not.
Ms. Abrams continued to look puzzled. "It...it's just that, usually, men don't understand my message, they..." she said.
"They what?" Eric asked. "They distort it? They make fun of you?"
"Well, yes," she agreed, looking at him. Her facial expression softened a bit.
"Is it possible I might not be like the other men who've interviewed you?" Eric continued. "Isn't it possible I might be able to conduct a good interview?"
"Ah...I...I suppose," Ms. Abrams said. "I mean...it...you might do...a...a fair job."
"And I suppose the fact that I was smiling might not mean that I'm laughing at you," Eric said.
"Well," Ms. Abrams said. Then she frowned. "I want to be taken seriously," she said. "What I've got to say is important."
"If you'd let me finish the interview, maybe I can find out for myself whether you should be taken seriously or not," Eric said.
Lynnette walked to the chair where Eric was sitting, bent down, put her hands on the arms of the chair, and looked directly into his eyes. "You damn well better take me seriously, mister!" she said. "And you better damn well believe my message is important!"
Eric couldn't help himself. The position she'd assumed allowed her the loose neck of her outfit to fall away, giving him an clear view of her lovely chest. She wasn't wearing a bra and he was able to see that she had very nice breasts, small, firm, and pointy.
Sweat started to bead on Eric's forehead and he shifting position, his slacks were suddenly tight.
Lynnette Abrams realized what he was doing. "Goddammit!" she snapped, "What the hell do you think you're doing? You bastard! You were looking down my blouse!" Her face red, she straightened, stepped back, and glowered at him. "You goddamn men are all the same!"
"I suppose we are," Eric admitted.
"You get a nice eyeful?" she asked. "I suppose you'd like to cop a feel, now?"
Eric had just about had it with her. "As a matter of fact, I wouldn't mind," he replied calmly.
The woman startled him by moving closer to him. "You're sweating," she said, her voice hoarse, "Is it too warm in here for you?"
Eric now had no idea what was going on. He put his pad and pen on the table next to his chair and stood up.
The woman stood there, hugging herself nervously. Eric, knowing he was taking a very large risk, took her in his arms and kissed her. He was shocked when Lynnette, moaning, pressed against him, and her arms locked around him. It wasn't the response he expected, but he liked it. It beat hell out of being slapped. He caressed her lips with his tongue. They parted and her tongue emerged, seeking contact with his. softly, tentatively at first, their tongues lashed. Eric cupped Lynnette's firm bottom and pulled her against the swollen mass at his middle.
Flushed and breathing hard, Lynnette leaned back in his arms after the kiss ended. She looked somewhat vulnerable, which made her even more desirable, and she appeared to be aroused, too.
Eric began to open the buttons of her jacket. She let her arms drop to her sides and the open garment dropped to the floor. The jacket gone, he turned his attentions to her skirt, which quickly puddled at her feet. Lynntte Abrams, noted feminist and advocate for women's rights, now stood in front of him wearing only a lacy camisole top and a pair of lacy thong bikinis.
Lynnette took a deep breath, then began tearing at his clothes. Soon all that was left were his underwear and socks. Eric led her to the bed and, before they laid down, he peeled the lacy top off, exposing her lovely breasts. She stretched out on the bed and raised her hips to help him get her bikinis off.
Stripping his remaining garments off, Eric joined her, and their warm bodies melded together. Eric was highly excited and wasted no time. He rolled atop her and her legs parted to receive him. His rigid penis was slid through her already-wet gash. She moved her lithe body sinuously, sending thrills coursing through Eric's body. Then she slid her hand between them, grasped his rigid pole, and guided it to her opening. Eric thrust into her and heard her exclaim her joy.
"Oh, God! I needed this! How did you know?" Lynnette asked, her eyes wide.
"Because I needed you just as badly!" Eric replied, driving into her, feeling her tight cavern clutching his probing shaft. The sensations were wondrous! Eric knew he couldn't hold back long, but from the way her body was to quivering, he sensed that she, too, was close. Her legs locked behind his and she thrust her pelvis against him urgently. Her arms locked round his neck and she pulled his face to hers. Their lips joined.
Wracking spasms shook her body and Lynnette moaned into Eric's mouth as her cunt walls rippled along his cock sucking his juices from him. He experienced a tremendous rush of pleasure as his fluids shot into her.
Lynnette began crying out ecstatically and her body strained powerfully against his when she felt his hot fluids gushing into her.
When they'd finished, Eric still lay on top of Lynnette, looking into her wide eyes. He bent down kissed her softly.
"My God!" she whispered. "I don't believe this!"
"I agree!" Eric said. "That was unbelievable!"
"What are we going to do now?" she asked softly.
"What would you like to do?"
The woman's reply surprised Eric as much as what had just happened. "I want to fuck and keep fucking until we can't do it any more!" she said and kissed him again.
"Sounds good to me," Eric said.
For a while, they lay in each other's arms, letting their bodies rejuvenate. After a while, Lynnette sat up and made a face. "I'm all sticky, I need a bath." She got off the bed and walked to the bathroom.
Eric watched her go. Though lithe, Lynnette's body was terrific! He lay in bed, thinking about her in the shower, then got off the bed and walked to the bathroom. Inside the bathroom he noticed that steam from the shower had clouded the bathroom, but through the frosted glass of the tub enclosure, he could see Lynnette's body moving as she washed herself. He pushed the shower door open. Her eyes were closed, and she had her head back, letting the hot spray pelt down on her, apparently rinsing or wetting her hair. She turned, opened her eyes, and jumped.
"You startled me," she scolded, grinning.
"I was wondering if you might need help with your bath," Eric said, smiling back at her.
"Oh..." she smiled. "Why not?"
