I'm Dating Our Mailgirl

This story is a continuation of I'm Dating Our Mailgirl. The 1st 3 chapters of that story should be read first for context. All characters are 18 or older and are completely fictitious as is Seahawk Industries. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.

PLANNING FOR THE WEEKEND

The next four days until the Halloween Masquerade Ball were four of the most difficult days I have ever spent. The first five minutes I would spend with 9 Thursday evening would be critical for the direction of our relationship. Meek little Monica thought being apologetic and asking forgiveness for accusing 9 of prostitution might be the direction I should take. Yea, right, that wasn't going to happen. But I did need to be conciliatory and considerate of 9 and her hurt feelings from the, yes, hateful things I had said. But what about my feelings. I was the one who has been betrayed.

I was still mulling over my approach and drafting a conciliatory speech each day. 9 only had one delivery to our department during those four days. I didn't want to be the ice queen, but our established pattern of downplaying our relationship in the workplace dictated I remain aloof. But I gave her a smile. This was a small indication that the thaw was happening. She smiled back.

ANOTHER VISIT TO THE FISHBOWL

But I needed to see 9 before Thursday night, not to talk to her, but just to see her. I made a trip to the fish bowl Tuesday morning. It was the typical crowd, About ten guys making crude and offensive remarks, one shy kid probably barely 18 who needed some stronger zit medicine. There were two women there. They appeared to be "a couple" with one fulfilling the fem role and the other clearly the butch. And Rose.

"Oh, good morning, Monica. I haven't seen you here in awhile, at least not here at the fishbowl. Is everything alright with you and 9? Or do you just need a little extra dose."

"I thought I would come down here to check out the two new girls, 13 and 14." I was proud of myself for coming up with that lie so quickly on my feet.

"Maybe doing a little trolling for some fresh, how shall I say, flesh?" She emphasized the "flesh" and said it with a Svengali-like sinister manner.

Don't say it, Monica. Control yourself. You're just going to get yourself into trouble. "Can't get enough 5, Rose?" There I blurted it out.

She gave me that sarcastic sinister under-the-breath snort. Food service brought in the gruel and ladled it into the three large bowls on the floor. Two sporks were placed by each bowl, but 8 of the girls would come up short unless they could grab one of the sporks discarded by one of the early diners. The girls were starting to come in. 9 and 7 came in hand-in-hand. 5 came in by herself but positioned herself right in front of the mirror facing Rose and me as if she had been coached to position herself there. 9 and 7 soaped themselves up in the shower and tended to each others most intimate parts.

"Sixteen really seems to be enjoying herself this morning."

"Sixteen?"

"Oh, I'm sorry. 7 and 9 seem to be inseparable, like Siamese twins. Some of the guys started jokingly referring to them as 16. I'm surprised 9 didn't tell you her new nickname. I thought you two shared all of your intimate little secrets."

7 and 9 did not perform cunnilingus on one another, but they did masturbate each other to climax. Feelings of passion were welling up inside me. I wasn't sure if it was anger or lust. When the girls were disbursing, Rose said to me, "Well, that's showtime for today, kids."

"Rose?" I hesitated and wanted so much not to utter what I was about to utter, but again I blurted it out. "Is that offer to use your, uh, tool, still open?"

She smiled the most diabolical snarky smile and said, "Yes, or course. Do you want to come up to my office now?"

"I, uh, I'm sorry. I really need to."

We got into the elevator without any conversation. We got out at HR. I followed Rose over to her office. She said to the attractive young blond outside her office, "Heather, I'm not to be disturbed." She gave her a wink and Heather returned the gesture.

"Ms. Anderson," the young woman reminded her, "you have an appointment at 8:00 with Olivia Wallace."

My head shot up. What is that all about, I wondered. There are only 4 reasons she should have an appointment with Olivia, and 3 of them were bad. Maybe Olivia was reporting back from having gathered some dirt on me. Maybe she was being dispatched with a secret mission to spy on me. Maybe Olivia and Rose were just have a morning dildo session. Or maybe it was a completely benign meeting. Rose had forgotten to submit some invoices to be paid by accounts payable. Yea, right, that was it.

"Thank you for reminding me, Heather. Be a dear and call her to reschedule the meeting to this afternoon. I'm not sure we'll be through by 8:00." She got a devious smile on her face. "And I'm not really sure I'll be completely composed by then."

"Yes, ma'am."

She ushered me into her office. She drew the shades in front of the glass window facing onto the office floor. She locked the door. "Don't worry, my dear, no one will disturb us."

She sat me on her couch and went over to a desk drawer. She brought out a petite smooth vibrator, "Do you want the smooth one?" Then she brought out another larger model with ribs. "Or maybe the nubbed model. Or if you want something really hard core, there's the G-spot massage Brute. I call this the destroyer because it will completely destroy any composure you have. Warning, this will have you half way up the wall before you are through."

"Maybe I should just start with the beginner set."

"Come, come, dear. We don't have much time. We both need to get back to work. Take off you skirt."

What was I doing in an office in the HR suite taking off my skirt.

"Well, you can't use it with you panties on." Memo to self, make sure to buy some thongs. I was embarrassed by my underpants which looked like something my grandmother had handed down to me. I took them off. But as embarrassed as I was about the underpants, it was nothing compared to the humiliation I felt when Rose saw my pussy. I had been psyching myself up all week to the whole world seeing my artwork down there, or at least that part of the world that would have been in the apartment recreation room Thursday night, but I never would have imagined exposing myself to someone in HR, certainly not Rose Anderson.

She guffawed and pointed to my cunt with my pussy hair shaped into a 9. "How sweet," she hissed. "A little shrine for you goddess." I was crimson with embarrassment. Rose started taking off her skirt. She was wearing a garter belt, garters and black hose. She was otherwise commando down there. "Let's get to work. We don't have all day."

She inserted the ribbed vibrator into her cunt. I took the cue and inserted the petite beginner's model into my pussy. I couldn't help but emit audibly moaning as the vibrations stimulated the inner walls of my vagina.

Rose said, "Wait a minute, I need something else." She picked up a remote control and pointed it toward a 36 inch monitor hanging behind her desk. She turned around to watch, but it was clearly displayed in front of me and I didn't need to re position myself to see. There was a image of 5 performing in the fishbowl, The tape could only be described as a highlight reel of 5 in action. 5 soaping herself, 5 inserting her fingers into her pussy, 5 masturbating herself, one or two of the other girls going down on 5, 5 reciprocating with the other girls.

Although the tape was clearly "The Best of Five", you could catch glimpses of some of the other girls. 9's strawberry blonde hair was clearly seen in some of the fleeting shots. One showed 9 being masturbated by 5. Rose paused her getting herself off and paused the tape. "This is worth watching in stop action." I resolved not to let Rose get to me. I watched and I continued to apply the vibrator to my cunt, emitting intermittent moans of pleasure as if I were enjoying this and not being bothered by it, which I'm sure is what she intended. And as I watch more and more, I was enjoying it more and more.

Rose achieved orgasm before me, but I wasn't far behind her. She wiped the pussy juices from her cunt and moved over to the couch where she sat down beside me. "I'm coming, I'm coming, I'm coming," I cried out. I wondered how much poor innocent little Heather could hear, but didn't care, the relief was too enjoyable. "Oh, I'm done."

Rose took her cloth and wiped off my pussy juices. "There, there, little one. Oh, you really did enjoy that, didn't you?" As she wiped me up she leaned over and kissed me. I was repelled but could not move away from her. When she finished wiping me up, she handed me my underpants. "Monica, I'm so glad we had this bonding experience. Maybe this can be a healing moment in our relationship that had gotten off to a rocky start. Oh, and buy yourself some different undergarments."

I put on my skirt and Rose put hers on. I jumped up and cried, "I've got to go."

"I hope I see you in the fishbowl again soon."

BACK TO WORK

Three mailgirls made deliveries to our floor on Tuesday, 3, 7 and 13, one of the new girls. I told each of them, "Have 9 call me." I needed to get a message to her. I figured by giving the message to 3 of the girls, one of them might get through. If all three were delivered, good, that would show 9 my desperation to talk to her. One girl might forget the message, or might withhold the message in an attempt to sabotage us, but three, there was an excellent change 9 would get the message.

9 did not have a cell phone, none of the girls did. The mmu could be used for official Seahawk business only and besides it was subject to monitoring. There was one land-line telephone in the warehouse for the girls to use, but no incoming calls were allowed. That is why the only phone conversation 9 and I ever had previously was when we arranged our first date.

That night, I waited by the phone. No call. Finally, at 11:30 as I was getting ready for bed, the phone rang. 9 was on the other end of the line. There was no affectionate greeting, no how are you, just a curt, "You wanted me to call?"

"Yes, yes. It's nice to hear your voice," I told her. "Are we all set for me to pick you up at the warehouse Thursday night at 8:15?"

"Sure, I'll make sure I'm ready. See you then." The conversation was over.

THE MASQUERADE BALL

Thursday night, I got out of my car and walked to the warehouse door. I was calm and collected. I had rehearsed what I was going to say over and over. I just walked in unannounced. 9 wasn't home yet. I say the big bed in the middle of the room and nearly lost it. In 4 nights 9 and 7 would be in the throw of passion in the middle of the bed. And in 5 nights. And in 6 nights. I averted my eyes and came face to face with my opposite number, 7. "Hi, Monica. Big night tonight?"

"I hope it will be."

"Boy I really envy you and 9. I wish I could join you. But instead I'll just have to stay her with the other girls. I guess we'll be giving each other treats."

9 eventually came home and we walked outside toward the car. I didn't want to be distracted during my famous 5 minute speech. I wanted to have eye contact, to hold her hand, perhaps to kiss her, "Let's sit over here for a few minutes." I led her to a rusty outdoor table and 4 chairs in disrepair that Seahawk had so generously provided to the girls. "Sit down, please. I know I said some hateful things to you Sunday night and into the morning on the way to work on Monday. That was unworthy of me. I've been doing a lot of thinking since then, about where I am in my life, about where we are in our relationship."

"You're breaking up with me, aren't you." I saw her trying to hold back her tears.

"No, no. Absolutely not. Where is that coming from?" I grabbed her hand. "You really have not idea how important a part of my life you are, do you. You are my right brain to my left brain. I am sequencing and linear thinking. I'm mathematics, business analysis, words, facts, logic. You are visualization, imagination, intuition, the artist. Do you have any conception how you have changed me, how you have made me a better person? In the last four days as I have analyzed things -- with the left side of my brain -- I've come to realize you are so many things that I can only dream of being. A month ago, having an affair with a woman was absurd, Parading around with a woman who makes her living by displaying herself in public, I couldn't conceive of it. Think how long it took me to climb into bed with you when I was completely naked. And now, tonight, it is culminating in my appearing in public completely disrobed."

"You will be wearing a mask." I hoped that was an attempt on her part to inject a bit of levity in my serious oration."

"Yea, right," I answered. "Are we back on track?" She leaned over and kissed me. I turned it into a tonsil tickling lip lock. "Now let's go have some fun."

When we got to the apartment, we both quickly stripped. We were both giggling like little school girls. I had bought some body paints, mostly blues, brown, tan, and other earth tones, and of course basic black and white. I had them arrayed on the dining room table.

I said, "I though some feathers would make the costumes more realistic. Do you want to do the honors first?"

She proceeded to paint some feathers on my body. I wouldn't have dared tell her how to do it, she's the artist. She covered my arms and legs and then started on my backside which was completely covered with feathers. She moved to my chest, "Don't cover me up completely. Maybe some accent feathers on my breasts and around my pussy, but I want people to have a clear view of them."

When she finished, I looked at myself in the mirror. I was a walking John Jay Audubon masterpiece. Then it was my turn to paint her. I knew I wouldn't be able to create any sort of a masterpiece compared to what she had done, but none the less, I dived in.

Do you all know that old joke about the woman who walks into a beauty parlor in a strange town where she knows no one. There are two beauticians, one immaculately coiffed and the other frankly rather unkempt with hair in a mess. The unkempt beautician had her hair done by the one with the beautiful hair and vice versa. The woman figured they had to do each other's hair, so the beautician she chose, the one with the messy hair, actually did the better job. Well, that was me and 9 with our "costumes". Hers was a mess. If mine was a museum quality masterpiece, hers wouldn't even have gotten a passing grade in a third grade finger painting class. We looked in the mirror and we both laughed uproariously.

She said, "I'm not sure I want to be seen in public looking like this."

As we were about to leave, I ran to the bedroom and brought out my necklace. I handed the chain to 9 and said, "Here, attach it to the loop in the front. You're not going to let go of your hawk all night long." We donned our respective masks, my hawks mask and her blue jay mask and set out down the hall.

THE GRAND ENTRANCE

We got on the elevator and went to the top floor where the apartment building's recreation room is located. 9 led me by the chain inside. We spotted Ted and Jennifer. Jennifer was completely naked. She wore her hair in extremely fine braids, not her normal look. There were curls on the forehead and sides of the head and the bulk of her hair was drawn into a bun at the nape. 9 bent over laughing and clasped her hands in front of her mouth as if to stifle a laugh. She shouted in a loud squeal, "You look like you just stepped out of a Correggio." She whooped in laughter and exclaimed as she saw Ted, who was in a swan costume. The body of the swan covered his hips except for a gaping opening from which his ample penis was emerging. She shouted, "Leda and the Swan! Outstanding. Ted, give me one of your nitroglycerin tablets. I'm about to suffer from Stendhal syndrome."

I clearly didn't catch the reference. Ted filled me in "Stendhal was a French writer who suffered a heart attach when he was overcome with the beauty of Botticelli's The Birth of Venus. Or as we art aficionados irreverently refer to it, Venus on the Half Shell. Google it when you get a chance."

I must have had a puzzled look on my face because 9 felt she had to inform me, "Leda was a mortal who was raped by Zeus who took the form of a swan. She bore him two children who were hatched from eggs. One was Helen. You know, from Troy?"

I viewed that snide remark as a put down of my lack of knowledge of the arts. "Of course I know who Helen of Troy was." I had no idea she was hatched from an egg, but I kept that lack of knowledge to myself.

9 continued, "Oh, Jennifer, how long were you at the beauty parlor today? That hair is straight out of Correggio, or Leonardo, or Michelangelo, or Rubens. Ted, you told us exactly how you were going to come, and I didn't put it together."

9 turned to me with a laments of mock sadness, "Monica, we might as well get ready to accept 2nd place."

Ted said, "Thank goodness there's someone here who has a knowledge of the arts. I've had two people ask me if I was Björk Guðmundsdóttir at the academy awards." I was lost; I looked to 9 for guidance.

"Bjork is a singer songwriter who created quite a stir at a recent Academy Award red carpet ceremony by wearing a swan dress." She turned to Ted, "Well, I can see the confusion, you both have the swans neck draped around your upper body and neck with it's head drooping as if it wants to suckle at your breast."

"Ladies, I must admit that your outfits are outstanding. Certainly worthy of 2nd place when Jennifer and I whip you feathered asses. Here, let me introduce you to some of our friends." We walked over to Adam and Eve. Adam was naked but for a fabric leaf covering his prick. I didn't want to know what was holding it in place. Eve had a cloth snake warped around her body so that it strategically covered her breasts, with its head emerging from the rear between her legs with the head covering her pussy.

Ted did the honors, "9, Monica, I believe you're met our hosts Parker and Prudence Dickson,"

Parker, said, "Yes, but we haven't been formally introduced. Delighted to meet you, ladies. Welcome to our ball."

We continued on to Lady Godiva. She was a stunningly sculpted woman, probably mid 40's but in outstanding shape. She had long golden blond hair which cascaded down to cover her body until it was but 6 inches off the floor. Of course she was naked under the hair cover. "This is Doctor Crawford."

She corrected him, "Lisa to her friends."

Ted continued, "Lisa performed a minor miracle about 10 years back when Jennifer and I were experiencing a rough patch in our relationship and we sought her services as a. . . .well I guess I can't say marriage counselor."

Lisa interjected, "A relationship counselor."

9 started filling in the blanks, "So you're a doctor by virtue of a degree in psychiatry?"

"Precisely."

"Give me your card. Give me a stack of them. I need your services on so many levels. I don't know where to begin. I'm psychotic. With lapses from reality. And I'm suffering from depression."

"Oh, dear. Well at least you wear your neuroses well. I'm sorry, but I don't have any of my cards on me." She parted her hair with her hands to make it clear she was absolutely naked.

"And I haven't even gotten to the relationship counseling Monica and I are in constant need of."

I knew she was deliberately making light of the situation, but I had to jump in, "Not constantly, my dear. I think we've made quite a good start in smoothing our some of the rough spots in our lives."

Ted spoke up, "I hope you don't mind. But I was so enthralled when I met you two ladies that I had to share some obvious information about you with Lisa. I certainly hope I haven't betrayed any confidences."