Rough Hands

Lisa closed her eyes, she could feel his rough hands on her smallish tits, pushing, pulling, it hurt her, but that was okay, it was the pain, for everything else.

Her eyes snapped open. She was in a small room, walled in glass, high in the Chicago skyline. Her pantyhose were sticking to her, she felt flushed, warm. She fidgeted, waiting for the moment to pass.

Across from her sat Nadia. She had a slew of nicknames around the office; the Big N, Dr. No, Never-Again-Nadia. She was the crusher, the idea smasher. Strategy and Planning is what it said on her business card. She was a hard one, lean, built like Lisa, though her polar opposite otherwise, jet-black hair and olive skin. Her eyes we large and green, and her smile, on those rare occasions when she flashed it, like a favor, a warning, a pat on the head, gleamed like a full moon on a clear night.

Lisa's presentation team was hacking away at the stiff faces, cutting grins and wrenching open minds, loosening wallets. She split her focus, divided herself into two personas, one casually watching the presentation, the other focusing on Nadia.

Nadia played her part well, smiling in time to the speaker's highs and lows, nodding her head interestedly. Her fingers betrayed her. She fidgeted with her palm pilot, a sure sign that she wasn't listening, wasn't onboard. It was a trait she'd learned from Old Fat Conrad, one of the senior partners. Specifically, the senior partner she'd been fucking for two months.

Lisa took a deep breath. She had no compunctions about what she was about to do. Her department needed these dollars, needed to get it pushed through. If she had to knife Dr. No, in the process, she'd do it without hesitation. Still, the reality, gravity of what she was going to do made her anxious, flush with excitement, she felt tremors in her hands, in her legs.

Lisa heard her name and brought the split mind together, smiling her best, most disarming smile. She stood and moved to the front of the room. She stood in front of a projector, felt the hot light and sixteen eyes on her face, her shoulders, her neck. Lisa swept her eyes across the room, meeting each gaze, each dour stare, each unimpressed impression.

Fuck them. She thought to herself, and flew into her hundred-time rehearsed speech. She flew, she wove, her mouth and tongue working in concert, the sounds from her throat patterned in that specific way to make the frowns become smiles, the stolid, stone eyed watchers nod their heads. She had them. All but Nadia, who was shaking her head. It had to be now.

"...I know Nadia and Mr. Conrad are on the same page, but give me a moment to elaborate on how we're going to really push the envelope this year..."

Eyes shot to Nadia, her olive skin flushed a deep color, a passionate color. She put her palm pilot down and focused her smoldering eyes on Lisa.

Lisa felt his lips on her neck, those strong hands in her hair, pulling her closer, she was vulnerable, exposed, open, hungry. Goosebumps blossomed on her skin as she felt that most intimate of caresses... somewhere, her voice was weaving a grand and mysterious lie about things like return on investment and added value marketing and brand positioning.

Lisa walked into the ladies room hurriedly. The adrenaline rush from her exploits in the pitch meeting had broken the icy calm her prescription love-life gave her. She was nearly quaking with anxiety and rage, fear, excitement. She tried to call images of the rough-handed man back to her mind, to make her body feel sensations in other places, but couldn't manage to bring it forth. She stood in front of sink, cold water pouring over her hands. She splashed some on her face and let it run down her neck. The cooling rivulets burning a path to her chest. She closed her eyes as she fished in the depths of her purse for that little bottle.

The door opened, but Lisa didn't turn, didn't look. She heard the double-hard click of heels on the marble floor, the loud hum of the ventilation system, took in a lung full of chemical air freshener.

Lisa opened her eyes too late. Nadia was unbelievably strong.

"Having fun, bitch?" Nadia spun her around pushed her backwards over the sink. Her hips arched forward, Lisa began to loose her balance. She could feel the running water on her lower back, slinking between her cheeks.

With one hand, Nadia took up a handful of Lisa's hair and tugged back hard. Lisa tried to cry out, but Nadia other hand flew into her mouth, her long sinuous fingers pushing deep, causing Lisa to gag instead.

"Good times, right, cunt? Making me look like a whore in front of all of allocations?! RIGHT!?!"

Lisa's hands shot up to pull Nadia's fingers from her mouth, but Nadia tugged even harder Lisa's hair.

"Don't you get it?" Nadia swept in, her green eyes turning black, blocking out the fluorescent lights of the bathroom. Her hot breathe smelled like coffee and tickled Lisa's ear. "I own you now."

To punctuate her point, Nadia tugged up Lisa's skirt, using her talon like nails she slashed open Lisa's pantyhose. Lisa was still wet from her earlier imaginings, and Nadia's finger slid in easily.

"You. This," she pulled her glistening finger from between the stricken woman's legs and touched it to Lisa's lips, then put it in her mouth and with a single, smooth, vulgar motion, sucked it clean, "is all mine."

As quickly as she'd appeared, Nadia was gone, the clicking echoes of her heels a fading reminder of the fury of only an instant before.

Lisa listened to the running water, felt it's coolness on her skin. She closed her eyes and tried to picture that man with the rough hands. He came easily now.