Fulfillment Was Close At Hand

"What's this?!"

Harlan said to himself.

"Lorraine's the last person I expected to run into tonight. She's married! At least, she was the last time we talked. And, who's that cute, little redhead sitting next to her?"

Harlan had never cruised the city's cougar dens to pick up women. Life was complicated enough with his job and the girls he was already dating. But Jack, his friend from work, had insisted they visit that particular club on Friday night.

"I wonder what happened?"

Harlan thought.

"The last time I saw Lorraine and her husband, they could barely keep their hands off each other."

A few months before, Lorraine, Jack, and Harlan had all worked in the same office. It was Harlan's first professional job, after college, and Lorraine had been the company's super efficient, no-nonsense office manager. She had befriended Harlan and taught him the paperwork side of the construction business, along with the nuances of negotiating the minefields of office politics. And, whenever the office gang went out for drinks, Lorraine's husband would join them. Then, Lorraine had left for greener pastures, and Harlan had only spoken with her on the phone, a few times, since then. Now, there she was, sitting in a booth in an upscale cougar den, wearing the de rigueur, little black cocktail dress.

His curiosity aroused, Harlan walked up to her and called out, "Hi, Lorraine! How are you doing?"

Lorraine's eyes widened in recognition, and she stared open-mouthed at her young friend.

"Lorraine speechless?"

Harlan thought.

"This is a first!"

"So, how's the new job going? Geez, we haven't bumped into each other since you left the old salt mine," Harlan cheerfully continued.

"Harley! What a nice surprise!" Lorraine replied, after recovering from her initial shock. "What are you doing here? No, never mind, I already know!"

"I'm flying wingman for Jack tonight. He picked this place. The women at our old watering holes already know all of his pickup lines," Harlan answered.

He was telling the truth. Harlan wasn't seriously involved with anyone in particular, or looking for someone new, and he got a kick out of watching Jack trying to act like a player.

"Same old Jack," Lorraine laughed. "So, he's cougar hunting tonight, is he? Did you know he even used those tired old lines out on me, at my going away party?"

"I'm not surprised," Harlan replied. After all, Lorraine was a good looking woman, and Jack would chase anything remotely cute that wore a skirt.

When Harlan unconsciously raised an eyebrow, Lorraine admonished, "And don't look at me like that, Harley! I'm still very happily married. My husband still worships the ground I walk on, as well he should! And don't stand there pretending you won't take one of these horny cougars home with you, if you get the chance. I'm flying wingman tonight too. Or wing woman. Or whatever. Anyway, please sit down and let me introduce you to my friend Phyllis."

"My friend Phyllis,"

Harlan noted. He knew Lorraine wouldn't have introduced the cute redhead that way if she were not really her friend. And, he knew Lorraine chose her friends carefully. As Harlan had already taken notice of the attractive woman, he was more than happy to be formally introduced to her.

"Phyllis, this is my friend Harley. As you've already guessed, we used to work together," Lorraine said.

Turning to Harlan, to complete the introduction ritual, Lorraine finished, "Harley, Phyllis."

Phyllis blushed several shades of crimson. "Thanks for the subtle introduction, Lorraine!" she hissed, in a little girl's high-pitched voice.

"Phyllis has to be a natural redhead,"

Harlan realized.

"Only a fair-skinned, natural redhead could blush like that!"

Phyllis was also wearing a little black cocktail dress, but hers hugged her slender figure like a glove, enhancing every lovely curve. With her stylish, chin-length, curly hairdo, and her wide-set, green eyes, Phyllis was truly exquisite.

"She looks to be somewhere in her mid-twenties to early thirties,"

Harlan thought.

"But, it's so hard to tell with redheads. Most of them look older than they really are."

"It's nice to meet you, Phyllis," Harlan laughed, as he sat down beside Lorraine. "As I'm sure you already know, Lorraine is not noted for her subtlety." He was not usually so forward with beautiful women, but catching Lorraine off-guard and seeing the embarrassment on the redhead's face had bolstered his confidence.

"You're right about that!" Phyllis laughed girlishly. "It's nice to meet you too, Harley."

"And, listen to that voice!"

Harlan thought in delight.

"Is that just the cutest thing, or what?! This little girl could be a real heartbreaker."

"There's nothing to be gained by subtlety in this den of inequity, Phyllis," Lorraine interjected. "Everyone, except for me of course, is here for one reason and one reason only. And everyone knows it."

"Thanks again, Lorraine!" Phyllis wailed and turned several more shades of crimson.

"Oh, drop the coy routine, Phyllis. You're as horny as a three-balled tomcat! You're hunting for a boy toy, and I've just introduced you to a more than suitable candidate. Harley is a nice young man, a good dancer, and he doesn't kiss and tell. I can vouch for all of that. And, I suspect he's quite the stud in the sack," Lorraine said.

Phyllis squirmed and tried to turn invisible. Lorraine looked at Harlan and continued, "Harley, I would consider it a personal favor if you would take Phyllis back to your little love shack and commit some lewd, unspeakable acts with her. Or, just have some nice, conventional, recreational sex. Whatever. It's up to the two of you. You are still unattached aren't you?"

Not waiting for a reply, Lorraine turned back to Phyllis and said, "Do you see the size of Harley's hands? You know what that means, girl! And, I've seen him at the company picnics. He's really quite muscular too. Now, I can't actually vouch for Harley on the 'big-hands-to-big-manhood correlation', but my husband has big hands. I can certainly verify that the old saying is true in his case."

"Lorraine!" Phyllis pleaded.

Even after working with Lorraine for several years, Harlan was shocked by her bluntness, but he recovered and asked, "So, Phyllis, do you have the pleasure of working with Lorraine?"

"Y-yes," Phyllis answered meekly. "W-we work together in our own little salt mine."

"Has Lorraine straightened out the head of your company yet?" Harlan continued, trying to put the woman at ease. "She did her best to straighten out our president, and everyone else who wasn't pulling their weight, when I worked with her."

"Oh yes! And on more than one occasion!" Phyllis laughed.

"Don't change the subject," Lorraine interjected. "Let's see now, Phyllis. You're thirty-five, and Harley is at least twenty-five. So, the 'half-your-age-plus-seven rule' definitely applies here. I think the two of you should go for it."

"We've already changed the subject, Lorraine," Harlan said without looking at her, but silently digesting her brazen remarks.

"So, Phyllis is thirty-five. I would have never guessed she was that old. Hummm ... That would officially make her a 'puma'. Interesting ..."

Harlan thought.

"So, were your parents bikers, or are you a biker?" Phyllis asked, maintaining eye contact with Harlan and very thankful for the change in subject.

"It's short for Harlan," he answered. "Sorry, there are no hard-core bikers in my family."

"That's quite all right, I was just curious. Anyway, you're too clean-cut to possibly be a biker, in spite of the nickname," Phyllis said.

"This is nice. So, you two go ahead and get aquatinted," Lorraine said. "I'm going to go over and warn that not so innocent looking cougar about Jack. I know his character well enough to not be willing to vouch for it! Don't bother to wait for me. I'll be leaving right after I harass him."

"But, I don't have a ride!" Phyllis protested.

"Yes you do. Harley will take you home," Lorraine replied, squeezing out of the booth.

"Poor Jack," Harlan unconsciously sighed.

Phyllis laughed and blushed again, as Harlan sat back down. She said hesitantly, "I moved here to start my new job a few months ago. Since I don't really know anyone, outside of work, Lorraine has taken me under her wing and ... and ..."

"Was giving you a tour of some of the local hotspots?" Harlan finished.

"Yes, she was showing me around town," Phyllis replied gratefully.

"Well, I'd be more than happy to show you around ..."

They looked at each other awkwardly, and Harlan said, "Look, Phyllis, this is uncomfortable for both of us. Would you like to dance, or would you prefer that I give you a ride home, or just leave you in peace?"

"Oh, I can't believe the things that come out of Lorraine's mouth!" Phyllis gushed. "And yes, I'd love to dance! Let's go!"

As Phyllis stood up, he realized just how petite she really was. Even in her four-inch stiletto heels, Harlan, who was just over average height, towered over her.

"She can't be a fraction over five-feet tall in her stocking feet,"

Harlan realized.

"But, those stilettos really accentuate her legs and fine, heart-shaped ass!"

The band was playing a fast song, and they were much more at ease out on the dance floor. The next song, however, was a slow one, and Phyllis and Harlan looked at each other awkwardly again. He hesitated before reaching for her hand.

"What the hell,"

Harlan thought.

"What's the worst that can happen? She says she's tired of dancing? It's not like that's never happened to me before."

Phyllis hesitated, but took his hand and floated into his arms. After a while, she whispered, "It's been so long, I can't remember the last time I slow-danced with someone."

"It is nice."

Phyllis giggled and pressed closer to Harlan. They stayed out on the floor for the next slow song, too. Before long, Phyllis gently ground herself against Harlan. Her movements were slow and light. She was not even consciously aware of what her loins were doing. Feeling her warmth, smelling her subtle perfume, and feeling the thin straps of her bra under the back of her dress, Harlan's cock hardened at the thought of the possibilities the night might hold.

When the band started a third slow song, they both laughed and continued to dance. Phyllis ground her hips more forcefully against Harlan and, at that point, they both knew they would be going home together. The dance ended, and he asked, "Should we look around for Lorraine?"

"Do you really want to?" Phyllis laughed.

"Knowing her, she's already left."

"Yes, she's subtlety personified and always keeps her word."

They walked back to the women's booth and Harlan scanned around the club. As he suspected, Lorraine was nowhere to be found. All the while, he was conscious of Phyllis looking him over, sizing him up, studying him.

"Lorraine's always been a woman of her word," Harlan agreed. "Unless she's hiding in the ladies room, I'm sure she's gone."

"She's gone," Phyllis said flatly. "But, what about your friend Jack?"

"He's gone too. I wonder if Lorraine had anything to do with that?" Harlan laughed. "Anyway, we came in separate cars, at his insistence."

"I see."

"So ... should I drive you home?"

Phyllis had already made up her mind. "Or?" she smiled, looking him straight in the eye.

"Or ... we could go somewhere else."

"Or, we could go to your love shack?"

"I don't really call it that," Harlan said quickly. "But, yes. We could go to my place, if you want ..."

"Then let's go."

While Harlan drove them to his apartment, Phyllis asked, "So, how far is it to your place?"

"Not far. I have a loft downtown. It's close enough to the office for me to walk to work, if I'm in the mood, and I'm going to be there all day."

"Isn't living downtown awfully noisy?"

"It's noisy downtown, but my place isn't. The guy that had the apartment before me was a drummer in a rock 'n' roll band. He soundproofed the entire place, so he could practice without disturbing the neighbors. It's very quiet with the windows closed."

"I hope you don't think I go out looking to be picked up all the time," Phyllis suddenly blurted.

"No, not at all."

"Well, I don't! It's just that when Lorraine insisted that I needed some R&R, and she said she'd show me around, well ..."

I'm sure Lorraine used a phrase other than R&R."

"You do know her well, don't you?" Phyllis laughed girlishly.

"Oh, yes. We worked together for over three years. She's blunt and outspoken, but I have tremendous respect for her. I was very sorry to see her leave our company. I still am."

"She chooses her friends carefully, doesn't she?"

"Yes, she does."

"So, I guess that means you come highly recommended, doesn't it?"

"Well ... actually, I guess it does," Harlan admitted.

"Good."

The chitchat ended at Harlan's apartment. They were all over each other before the door closed behind them. Phyllis threw her arms around Harlan's neck, pulled herself up, and mashed her lips against his mouth. He drank in her scent, ran his hands over her back, and enjoyed the feel of her firm body beneath his fingers. Standing on her tippy toes, Phyllis ground her pelvis into Harlan's groin. Reaching farther down, he palmed her taut, heart-shaped ass with both hands, and pulled her tightly against him.

Phyllis pushed her tongue into his mouth, and he lifted her completely off the floor, bringing her face level with his own. Her legs flailed helplessly in the air. The skirt of her tight dress thwarted her efforts to wrap her slender legs around Harlan's waist.

"This little girl can't weigh more than one hundred pounds soaking wet,"

he thought, hefting her easily.

Their tongues still intertwined, Harlan lowered Phyllis to the floor, ran his hands down her stocking-clad thighs and found the hem of her tight dress. Unceremoniously, he yanked the skirt up to her waist. Once more, he palmed her shapely derriere and lifted her off the floor. Phyllis wrapped her unencumbered legs tightly around Harlan's waist and snaked her tongue deep into his mouth.

Clutching each other tightly, Harlan carried Phyllis from the doorway to the side of his bed. He raised her high in the air, enjoying the feel of her tight ass against his palms, and carefully sat down. She slowly settled into his lap, their tongues still probing each other's mouths. As Phyllis ground her crotch into him, Harlan inched her tight dress up her slender torso.

Breaking their long French-kiss and tugging at her dress, Harlan whispered, "Lean back so I can get this out of the way."

Phyllis immediately leaned back, raised her arms, and allowed him to push her tight dress up and over her head. Harlan had barely tossed her dress aside before she wrapped her arms around him and plunged her tongue deep into his mouth again.

"Flimsy, little bra,"

Harlan mused, squeezing his hand between their bodies and grazing her small, firm breasts.

"Sexy, but she doesn't really need it."

As they kissed, he unhurriedly ran his hands all over her, enjoying the feel of her taut, bare skin, and the smooth fabric of the pantyhose sheathing her slender body to the waist.

"Tiny, little hip-hugger panties underneath,"

Harlan realized.

"Hummm ... interesting."

Running his hands over her near-naked back, he found the clasp to her bra, but elected to prolong his explorations.

"She's horny as hell and she's not going anywhere. I'm going to take my time,"

he thought in satisfaction.

Phyllis clutched Harlan frantically, grinding her loins into him. Still holding their deep kiss, he kicked off his shoes and leisurely rolled her onto her back. Disengaging her legs from around his waist, he slid her up to the center of his bed. Phyllis rolled onto her side and thrust her pelvis against him, without breaking their torrid kiss.

Harlan ran his hand all over her taut ass and legs. He managed to slowly work his exploring hand between them, gradually spreading her thighs apart. Phyllis broke their kiss and grunted, shamelessly rubbing her crotch against him. "Just a moment," Harlan whispered, pressing his hand firmly into her pantyhose-covered pussy.

Phyllis groaned, jammed her lips against his mouth, and forcefully thrust her sex into his hand. He slowly rubbed her vulva with his palm. She dry-humped him back, grinding herself into his hand. Pulling her mouth away, Phyllis breathed, "Harder. Do it harder."

Harlan pressed his hand forcefully into her crotch. Phyllis immediately rolled onto her back and spread her legs wide apart. "Yes, like that," she grunted. "Just like that."

"She knows what she likes,"

he thought.

"I like that in a woman."

Phyllis clutched Harlan's head and pushed her tongue back into his mouth. He moved his hand slowly and firmly over her pussy, feeling the outlines of her inner labia through her remaining clothing.

"I wonder what she looks like completely naked?"

he mused.

They quickly established an unspoken rhythm. Phyllis lifted her hips off the bed to meet Harlan's hand, as he pressed hard against her mound on his upstrokes, and she dropped back down on the bed during his slow downstrokes. Pressing deeper, he ran his probing fingers through the shallow, nylon-covered valley between her nether lips.

"Harder," Phyllis gasped, clutching her bra-encased breasts and lifting her ass completely off the bed to meet Harlan's hand. "Do it harder."

"If that's what you want,"

he thought, grinding his palm firmly into her vulva.

"Yes! That's it! That's it! Yes! Yes!" Phyllis urged, throwing her head back and convulsing. "Ooooooooooh! That's so good!"

Harlan watched in fascination as her upper body blushed deep-crimson, and her nipples hardened through the flimsy fabric of her lacy, little bra. Phyllis shuddered again and again, before sighing and, at last, lying still.

"Wow! She really was horny!"

He thought.

"I hope she still is after this!"

"Oh, that was so good," Phyllis breathed, eyes unfocused.

"Glad I could help," Harlan said, smiling down at her.

"Here she is, lying on my bed in her shoes and underwear, and I'm almost completely dressed. This is like making out in the back seat when I was in high school,"

he thought.

"Except, Phyllis is a lot hotter than any of the girls I dated back in high school!"

Her eyes refocused, and a smile slowly formed on her lips. "I really needed that," Phyllis said, looking intently up at Harlan.

"Glad I could help," he repeated.

Phyllis reached up, pulled Harlan's face down to hers, and kissed him hard on the mouth.

"Now, to see what these sexy, little undies are hiding,"

Harlan thought in satisfaction.

As he ran his hand languidly over her petite form, Phyllis broke their kiss and began unbuttoning his shirt. Harlan brushed his fingertips over her still-clothed breasts, feeling her prominent nipples, and she reached back to unfasten her bra. "Let me do that," he whispered.

"You like undressing women, do you?"

"Yes, it's kind of like unwrapping a present. Only better."

Phyllis laughed, propped herself up on her hands and thrust out her lovely chest. "Well, I hope you enjoy your present," she said playfully.

Deftly unclasping her bra, he replied, "I'm sure I will."

Phyllis, smiled, leaned forward, and extended her arms. Harlan gently pealed her flimsy, little bra away from her perky breasts and tossed it aside. "Very nice," Harlan breathed, ogling her lovely curves, her alabaster skin, and the long, rosy-pink nipples capping her firm globes.

Leaning in for a kiss, Phyllis's nipples noticeably lengthened and thickened, as Harlan gently thumbed them. Pressing her slowly back down on the bed, he worked his hand down to the waistband of her pantyhose. "Time to get these out of the way," Harlan whispered.