Heather's shift at the coffeehouse was over and all she wanted to do was go home. She had been summoned into the manager's office and if it was to be fired that would be fine with her. She didn't make any attempt to fix her hair or otherwise prepare herself for meeting with the tyrant.
Adam was a sad, little man. Almost forty, he had worked all the way up to manager of a single outpost in a ridiculously large chain of coffeehouses. So large, in fact, there was almost one on every corner. His frustrations, Heather assumed, were mostly taken out on the employees.
She closed the door behind her and acknowledged, if not in glowing fashion, his presence. Adam didn't invite her to sit down. Instead, he rose from his rickety chair and walked towards her.
"Hello, Heather."
She smiled back.
"How are you?" he asked, stopping a couple feet in front of her.
Tired and very much in need of a shower didn't seem like an appropriate response. "Fine," she said.
"Good. It sounded busy today." Heather wondered how he would know, as little time as he actually spent with the employees during working hours.
"Yep. It was," she replied. Heather watched Adam's eyes lock onto the cleavage showing above the low-cut, white knit shirt she wore. She wished now she hadn't taken off the standard issue green apron all the employees wore.
"Well, Heather. I wanted to talk to you today about a possible promotion." Adam was looking at her with a depraved smile.
"Oh," Heather responded with a questioning voice.
"I need an assistant manager. I think you're the best person I've got."
Heather was rapidly calculating the negatives in Adam's offer. "Oh, thanks. But Joe and Nicole have both been here longer than me, and..."
"No. I think you're the right person," Adam said, stepping closer.
Heather speculated on how she could say 'No' without offending or, worse yet, enraging the little creep. "Maybe if you let me think about it."
It was her last attempt to get out of the office and delay her answer.
"Maybe I can help you decide."
With that, Adam reached out and put his hand on the side of Heather's left breast. It happened so fast she couldn't back up quickly enough. She felt him push his hand against her harder.
"No. Adam," she said roughly.
His other hand was on her other breast.
"No. Please." Heather tried to turn away, but he had her from both sides. His grip tightened.
He stared only at her breasts, as if the rest of her wasn't there. Then he was pushing her backwards. It was only a couple of feet to the wall in his miniscule office.
"Don't scream," he warned her. Heather took him seriously.
She put her arms back trying to brace herself, knowing the wall was close. She slammed up against it and the air rushed out of her lungs.
He was on her, his hands suddenly inside the shirt, moving up, pressing harder against her. The hands were on top of her breasts, tugging at the bra and skin underneath.
"Adam. Stop. Stop it," Heather said as loud as she could without screaming.
"Shut up," he hissed. The bra was pushed up, along with her shirt, and Heather's breasts were exposed to the tormenter.
She wanted to hit him. Hard. She wanted to lift a knee into his groin. She wanted to scream.
Adam's mouth closed around a breast. He bit her roughly and Heather stifled a shriek. Teeth pulled at her nipple. Then he was on the other breast, biting and pulling.
His strength surprised Heather. Only able to move sideways, she could not escape his grip. Pinned against the wall, her arms were nearly useless except for hitting him in the back.
Adam attacked her breasts for several more seconds, then leaned back slightly and reached for the top of Heather's pants. At that moment she made a decision. She had just enough room to swing wildly and catch him right on the side of his face with her hand. The smack echoed in the room.
Instead of giving her either the time or space to run for it, the slap only infuriated the would-be rapist.
"Oh, you like it rough," Adam said. "Rough it is."
He returned the slap so quickly Heather had no chance of avoiding it. Her head hit the wall. Tears flowed from her eyes as she regained her senses.
"Please. Adam."
Adam's hands were on Heather's shoulders, pushing her down. She tumbled to her knees as he backed away from her just enough to give her space.
"Open my pants, bitch," she heard him say.
"No. Let me..."
"Do it or I'll really hurt you," he said.
Heather could see the door just a few feet away. It might as well have been a few miles. She unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his pants and pulled down the zipper. She could see the outline of his cock inside his underwear. He was so hard the tip was under the waistband.
"Pull it out," Adam demanded.
Heather pulled down the underwear just enough to expose the rigid cock. It pointed to the ceiling in disgusting hardness.
"Now suck it or I'll do more than slap you."
Heather felt her head being pushed onto the cock. It hit her lips, then slid onto her cheek. She moved her head to the side until the stiff cock was in front of her again. She opened her mouth and aimed for the swollen tip.
Her eyes were closed, but she felt it between her lips. Heather began to close her mouth.
Suddenly, there were three sharp knocks on the door.
"Fuck," Adam barked. "Fuck."
Heather jumped at the sound of the door and Adam's harsh voice. His cock slithered out of her mouth.
"Get up. Get dressed," Adam ordered as he fumbled for his underwear and pants. It only took Heather a second to have her bra and shirt back in place. She headed for the door.
"Hold it," Adam said in a panicky voice.
A few seconds later he said, "OK."
Heather opened the door, quickly sped past her co-worker and headed for her car.
Two weeks later Heather was still unemployed, by choice, but almost over the shock of the incident enough to allow herself to get back into the mainstream of society. Sleep had been difficult at first. A hundred times she thought of things she could have, should have, done differently. A hundred times the incident always remained the same. It happened just the way she remembered it.
Heather McMurray was a twenty-four-year-old woman with a naturally appealing face and body. Her short, straight brown hair was always neatly styled and she wore modern, if rather conservative, clothes. Men were not attracted to her because of looks alone. She was deeper than that, if she allowed you to know her.
Sex was OK, in her opinion, but she'd never found a guy that seemed to know how to do it well. At least not the way she envisioned it feeling. Heather had orgasms, but where were the fireworks she read about in her books?
She would keep looking.
One of Heather's regular dates was a guy named Scott who was nice enough, but certainly wasn't ready to spend time with only one woman. Nor was Heather ready for a long-term relationship with him. He did, however, like the club scene along with Heather. So they were regulars at a local spot featuring new bands and cheap drinks.
They were there on a particularly crowded Saturday night, dancing, when Heather first noticed the little blonde in the short denim skirt. The girl, maybe twenty, also noticed Heather. In fact, it was the blonde's steady gaze towards her that got Heather's attention.
Heather found herself gazing back at the dazzling blonde who seemed to float on the dance floor. They exchanged smiles. Bodies blocked their view of each other. Then more smiles.
Half an hour later while Scott was off talking to friends and Heather sat alone at her table, the blonde appeared at her side.
"Hi," the girl shouted above the din of the club.
Heather looked up. "Hi."
"You're a great dancer," the blonde said.
If it had been anybody else talking to her, Heather would have been searching for ways to blow her off. "Thanks, but I'm not as good as you. I enjoyed watching you."
Heather couldn't believe she said it to a complete stranger. Another woman, at that. But it was true.
"My name's Kristin."
"Hi. I'm Heather. Want to sit down?"
"Thanks." Kristin quickly pulled out the chair next to Heather, sat down and leaned on the table. Heather watched Kristin cross her long, tan legs.
"I don't remember seeing you here before," Heather said.
"I've only come a couple times. Mainly during the week. I like it like this when there's more people here," Kristin said.
"Are you with somebody?" Heather asked.
