Manuscript 1

For Katie

"We're not quite sure what to do with the manuscript, Mr. Carmody. This isn't something we usually work on."

The woman on the other end of the Zoom call was Katie Marinelli -- in her late 20s, dark-complexioned with not too serious brown eyes, not quite full lips with a cherry red sort of color on them, and long, dark brown hair to her shoulders. She was wearing a beige yoga top kind of thing; her virtual background was a popular Fort Worth coffee shop.

"Please, call me Jeff," I said. "I don't do a lot of corporate work any more, but if Ted Thompson recommended you, it's certainly worth talking about."

The Zoom box shifted to a man about the same age. Larry Bleiberg's background was the company logo, an elliptical design with M-B Marketing in the middle. "Super, Mr. Carmody....."

"Jeff? Please?"

Bleiber, who had black curly hair, a full face, and green eyes, laughed. "OK. Jeff. We just don't usually work with men with your experience or credits."

A Zoom shift. Katie was leaning into the screen. I liked her intensity, the way she looked at me, the intelligence and the possibilities in her eyes. She had small breasts, and her nipples were hard and it seemed like they were showing through her top.

"We need to turn this manuscript, all 250,000 words, into a 60,000-word book," she said. "The author" -- and she mentioned one of the most important men in Texas -- "can't really write. At all."

Zoom shift. "And we have to turn the project around in a week," said Bleiberg. "So that's why we reached out to you.... Jeff."

All of us laughed. "Email me the manuscript," I said. "I'll look at this afternoon, and we can have a Zoom call tomorrow. Does that work?"

Something beeped, and Bleiberg picked up his phone, then blanked his screen.

"I hope that's not one of Larry's exes," said Katie. "He's my best friend and I've known him forever, but his taste in men is even worse than mine. And we really need to get this book turned around."

Bleiberg's screen came back. "I heard that, Katie," and he was smiling. "But at least I have the good sense to throw my exes out of the house, unlike some of us."

A Zoom shift. Katie blushed. A lot. But she didn't lose her composure. "So who was the call then?"

A Zoom shift. "It was the woman with the Mineral Wells historic hotel project. They want me out there for the rest of the week. So you'll have to work with Jeff on this by yourself."

A Zoom shift. "Of course," said Katie. "Read, and then we'll talk."

•

It was late. I was at my desk with a glass of wine staring at the manuscript on my computer screen. Katie was right. One of the most important men in Texas couldn't write a lick -- he was both pompous and self-effacing, which I didn't think was possible. His anecdotes and examples didn't make any sense. And his grammar was even worse than his spelling, which was bad enough. And there were 250,000 words of it.

OK, I said to myself. You're a big-time writer. You've won awards. Now how are you going to fix this thing?

And then my Zoom squeaked.

I clicked to accept the call, and Katie's face came on. "I'm not bothering you, Jeff, am I?" She looked like she had been crying -- there was pain in her eyes where the intelligence had been in the morning. There was no virtual background this time -- just the wall in a dark room, where the only light came from her laptop screen.

"Of course not," I said. "But I thought we were going to talk about the book tomorrow. I'm still plodding through it. You're right -- it is a mess."

"Oh the book, yeah," she said. "Actually, can I ask you a favor? I normally talk to Larry when I'm feeling like this, but he's out with the client in Mineral Wells. So can I talk to you and feel sorry for myself?"

"Of course you can, " I said. "Tell old Mr. Carmody all about it."

That made her laugh. "You're not so old," she said, "no matter what Larry says. And I like those blue eyes and those gray streaks mixed with the brown in your beard and hair. You remind me of my writing teacher at TCU. I always thought he was hot. And you didn't once try to talk over me today, which most men your age do when we have a meeting."

This time, I laughed. "You flatter me, young lady. Thank you." I reached for the wine glass, emptied it.

"I could have used some of that tonight," said Katie. "A lot of it. A pass out drunk lot of it. Is that sounding sorry enough?"

"I know that feeling," I said. "No need to apologize."

"You know, today, when Larry said that thing about my ex? He's not my ex. He's my boyfriend, and he's asleep in the bedroom. And Larry is right about one thing. At least he throws his boyfriends out when they act like a shit. But not me. I'm just take-it-and-lump-it Katie."

I didn't say anything. Silence and patience seemed like the best response. Which it was.

"So tonight, he knows I have a lot of work, but he just does what he always does -- gets high, comes over and starts to paw me while I'm trying to work, and then fucks me. And then falls asleep. How much fun is that?"

"Not much," I said. "One would think he would treat someone as smart and funny as you with a little more passion."

"And one would be wrong. Would you treat a woman like that, Jeff?"

"Of course not. Especially a woman like you -- if I am allowed to say that and still maintain our professional relationship."

"Oh, you are, you are. Do you know how long it has been since he told me I was pretty? Or sexy? It's just get high, fuck Katie, and fall asleep. And Katie just goes along with it."

She stopped, looked at me. She bit her index finger, brushed her hair back from her eye. "So I am pretty, aren't I? And sexy?"

"Kitten," I said, "that goes without saying, but I would enjoy saying it over and over -- incredibly sexy and pretty. I noticed that the first time you talked to me today."

"Really?" And her face brightened. "Kitten. I like that. He hasn't called me anything but Katie in years. And I thought maybe you did notice me like that, from the way you looked at me. You have marvelous blue eyes to look into. But my tits aren't too small, are they? He keeps telling me my tits are too small."

"My God, no," I said. "When you leaned over today, and I saw your hard nipples, I was quite pleased, Kitten."

Her eyes were alive again, and she leaned over. "Like this?" and she slid a hand under her yoga top and pinched the nipple, sighed, and her face flushed. I was breathless, on the edge of my seat, my eyes moving up and down her body.

"My God, Kitten," I said, and I knew she saw my hand go down to my lap. I was wearing sweat pants, and the more I watched her and what she was doing, the harder my cock felt in my hand.

I took a very deep breath, moved my hand back to my desk. She saw that and licked her lips and her intensity was past erotic.

"How are we going to keep a professional relationship if you do things like that to me, Kitten?"

"I don't know, Daddy," and she licked her lips again and slid her hand to other nipple. "You tell me."

And then a voice, from somewhere in the house: "Fuck, Katie. Where did you go? You're still not working are you?"

And I was left alone at my desk, breathing too deeply, looking at a blank screen.

•

I was asleep, finally, when Katie texted. "Don't be mad at me, Jeff."

I texted back: "Not mad. You OK?"

"Yes. Ur sweet. soooo sexy."

Then a couple of minutes later, another text: "hes sleeping next to me."

"But youre ok?"

"Hes horny pita. I had to let him fuck me again."

"So sorry, Katie."

A few more minutes until the next text: "Im OK. rely. cuz thought abut u daddy."

I could imagine her then, in bed, texting me, the middle of the bed between them like a valley, and her body and her long hair and her bright eyes and her soft lips and those hard, hard nipples. And I started to text just that when the phone beeped.

"gttg. zoom me am."

Fortunately, I had a long Zoom call first thing in the morning with an editor I didn't like but whose magazine paid well. He didn't like me, either, but pretended to because I made deadlines and didn't require much editing. Forcing myself to be pleasant to him gave me something to do so that I didn't keep thinking about Katie.

The call lasted almost two hours. I clicked the red button to end it; as I did, another call came in.

"Hi, Jeff." She seemed almost sheepish.

"Katie, are you OK? Is it safe to talk?"

"Oh yeah. He's gone, won't be home until 6, at least." She was wearing a white t-shirt and it was obvious she had nothing on underneath it. Which made me wonder: Did she have anything on besides the t-shirt?

"Can we talk for a few minutes? I won't blame you if you don't want to. That was so high school what happened last night. I never should have started it. And then texting you from bed. That was even more stupid. If He had seen me...."

"Of course we can talk, Katie. You didn't do anything wrong. Last night was amazing. As you are."

"Thank you, thank you. It's just that I haven't had anyone be sweet to me like you were in forever. I realized how much I missed it."

"Why wouldn't I want to be sweet to my Kitten?"

She gave me the smile then, the one I had seen yesterday and the one, honestly, that had started all of this.

"Am I your Kitten? Do you really want me to be?"

"What do you think?"

"Hmmm." And she pursed her lips, the way little kids do when they're thinking, and her eyes were bright and alive. "Yes," and she said it with that finality also common to little kids after they've made a decision. "I am your Kitten, Daddy."

It was my turn to smile. "Daddy's smart and sexy and naughty Kitten."

"That's me, that's me, I promise." And she took her hand and moved it to her nipple, pinching it through the top of her t-shirt. "I know Daddy likes to see this."

I watched her, my eyes alive, my face flushed. "Yes, Daddy does," and then I realized that as much I enjoyed this, as much as I wanted this, I wanted something more.

I looked at the timestamp on the Zoom screen -- 10:43. "He won't be home until after 6?"

"No, Daddy," and then it was her turn to realize what was going to come next. "Can we, Daddy? Can we?"

"Oh yes we can, Kitten -- very, very much so."

•

I made Fort Worth in 35 minutes. Katie answered the door in the t-shirt and, yes, she had nothing else on. She was shorter than I expected, only about 5-5 to my 5-11. Neither one of us spoke.

I stepped in, closed the door, took her face in my hands. She was lovely. I pulled her face to me, kissed her. Softly at first and then my tongue pushed her lips apart and I kissed her harder. She whimpered a little and wrapped her arms around me and pushed her body against me, standing on her toes. She kissed me back, found my tongue, and played with mine, almost teasing me. My hand moved to her bare ass, and she whimpered again. I squeezed it, hard, than slapped it. She pushed against me again, and I could feel how wet she was, even through my pants. I cupped my hands over her ass and helped her move up against me, and she rubbed and rubbed and rubbed against my hard cock all the while kissing me.

I let her down, slid my hands off her ass, kissed her, then pulled my mouth away. I could taste her in my mouth, and it was making me crazy. I took her hand. "You know what Daddy wants, don't you, Kitten?" Katie shook her head up and down, squeezed my hand, led me out of the front room, past the dining room, and to the back of the house. There were two rooms -- what looked like her office on the right, and the bedroom on the left. There was a picture of the two of them on the dresser, taken at some family event. He looked like a guy who would get high and fuck his girlfriend and think that was something important.

Katie still hasn't said a word. She led me to the bed, and I sat down, slid out of my pants and shorts. My cock was red and hard and erect and she bent over, standing next to the bed. She kissed my cock, slowly, teasingly, sliding it into her mouth bit by bit. I moaned, grabbed her hair, twisted it, twisted it again, and she slid more of of my cock into her mouth, sucking now, sucking hungrily and greedily. I could smell how wet she was, and the sound of her mouth on my cock was exquisite.

I tried to move my hips back and away from her, but she didn't want to let go. I moved my hips again, and she sucked harder, then was able to pull away a bit. I twisted her hair into a big knot, and yanked, and she shivered and moaned and her mouth came off my cock. Her first words in all that time: "Fuck, Daddy, don't make me stop."

I kissed her, helped her onto the bed next to me. "Take your top off, Kitten," and she did, and her tiny tits were gorgeous, and her wide, flat nipples were as hard as they could be. My hand reached for her pussy; it was dripping and I leaned over and kissed it, tasting it with my tongue, flicking the clit once, twice, a third time. It was swollen and full and I sucked it and nipped at it, and I thought Katie would go even crazier. So I slid a finger inside her and then two and her legs split apart and she fell back and arched her back. I took my fingers out and fed them to her. Katie sat up and sucked, almost as greedily as she had my cock.

Her faced was flushed, her eyes on fire, her breathing shallow and fast. She climbed on top of me, taking my cock in her hands, rubbing and caressing it, and it was all I could do not to cum right then. "I'm going to be your good Kitten, Daddy, I promise I will, whatever you want. Just make me cum hard and show me how much you want me to be your Kitten."

"You know I want that, Katie," I said, and moved her hips closer to my cock and she climbed on top and pressed down just a little, only taking the tip. My hands were on her hips, my fingers pressed into her. My cock was tall and straight and thick, and I could feel how slick and wet she was and how much she wanted to take all of it inside her, in one huge downward plunge.

"Is this how you want to fuck me, Daddy?"

"Yes, Kitten. I want to watch you cum for Daddy. I want to see your face when Daddy fills you long and hard and deep. And I want to hear you cum and and hear how much you enjoy Daddy cock and cum inside you.

"And I want you to always remember Daddy did this to you in His bed, where he fucks you and then falls asleep."

The last bit did to her what I knew it would, and she pushed down hard -- slowly but hard -- and she moaned and her moaning got faster, and she pushed down and then pulled up and did it harder and more quickly and then harder again and more quickly.. I didn't move at all -- just tightened my grip on her hips and let her do the work and tried not to cum, to let her take every bit of cum out of me on her own.

"Fuck, Daddy,.. fuck... fuck.. fuck.. " And she was bouncing up and down now, just barely in control. "You're my sweet, nasty, wet, and slippery Kitten," I said, "all for Daddy to enjoy over and over." I was barely able to speak for the explosion building inside me, almost as far gone as Katie was.

And then she pushed one last time, and her moan filled the room and it told what was coming and I could feel my cock engorge. And, almost instantly, we were in sync, her pussy taking all of my cock and my cock filling more and more of her pussy. She didn't want to let go of my cock and I didn't want her to let go. Katie was fucking her Daddy and taking Daddy's cum in the bed where He had ignored her, and that made every shiver and tremble even more delicious for me. And I knew I was fucking my Kitten in His bed, and he might even smell my cum and know what had happened.

And then we were done and smiling and lying next to each other, bodies close, soaking in the moment. I kissed her cheek and stroked her hair, and she took my hand and kissed my palm, and then snuggled up against me. "I will always be a good Kitten for my Daddy," she said, and I knew she would be.