Backrub On Hard Day

Karen sat there, fidgeting randomly; the day had certainly taken its
tool on her in terms of stress, muscle aches and general irritability.
Everyone seemed to be calling, everything seemed to go wrong and the
office was a total disaster area — it wasn’t exactly easiest thing in
the world to run the third largest law firm in the area.

‘Oh well,’ Karen thought as she whipped her torso around, cracking
her back and relieving some of the stress. Sometimes, she thought,
she really should hire a professional masseuse to give her backrubs on
days like this. Perhaps, at the same time, she should get one of those
massaging chairs to sit on — all this paperwork was really getting
to her, making her back sore. ‘Maybe it was just the lack of calcium
in her diet — milk certainly does the body good,’ she thought as she
fumbled to put on her sneakers. Walking to her apartment was surely
not going to be a trip that she was looking forward to.

“Hey Karen.” A familiar voice rang in the office. It was one of her
employees, a guy by the name of Scott. “You wanna’ go out with the
office and get some drinks? You really look beat, maybe a few beers
will relax you.”

‘What a nice boy,’ Karen thought. Scott was probably one of the nicest,
if not best looking employees in her firm. Though not the most handsome
of men, he was definitely someone who commanded respect with his calm,
cool presence and his excellent fashion sense. “Ahhhhh, sure Scott —
when are we goin’?”

Karen glanced over at the clock, it was already 6:37pm — she was hoping
to get a few minutes to dress and change before she went.

“How’about 7:30 at the Red Dragon?”

“Sure, that sounds great… I’ll meet you guys there, I’m just going to
go home, pop a quick shower and get dressed. Who else is going?”

“I don’t know. So far just you, me, Cathy and her boyfriend,” Scott said,
wincing a little bit because he was afraid that Karen would think that
he was hitting on her.

“No problem — I’d better get going then…” Karen quickly pulled on
her sneakers and packed her heels in her tote-bag not at all looking
forward to the walk home.


‘What to wear? What to wear,’ Karen thought, throwing her clothes
around randomly from her closet. ‘Ahhhh, this’ll be nice.’ Pulling out
a black skirt to match her olive-green blouse and black-plaid jacket
Karen quickly pulled the skirt on…

‘Damn, it’s already 7:15!! I’m going to be late.’ Always punctual,
sometimes neurotically so, was a trait of hers that friends, business
associates and everyone appreciated about her. ‘What hose am I going
to wear?’ Quickly pulling out some black nylons was always a trick
especially when you aren’t sure which side is front and which is the back.

‘Damn, late… 7:20 already’ Panicking, Karen threw on a
coat and ran out the door, barely slipping on her heels.

“Heyyyy Karen,” beamed Scott, he always had the cutest smile, “thought
you’d be late — probably the first in years eh?” He elbowed her lightly,
everyone knew that he was just jibbing her — digging in that little
knife, reminding her of how anal she really was.

“Yep.. but a hell of a lot better than the first interview you had!”
Two could play at that game — the very first time the two met was
Scott’s interview; apparently he had gone out drinking the night before
and, as such, woke up quite late, not late enough to miss the interview,
but late enough to leave some shaving cream on his lip. Everyone teased
him about it since the first day, people thought that he looked somewhat
like a mad-dog.

“Let’s play a game — how’about the name game?” Suggested Scott.
“I’m sorry — have I introduced you? This is John, Cathy’s boyfriend”
Always polite Scott pulled away Karen’s chair as she stood to shake
John’s hand.

“Pleasure to meet you.” A handshake firmer than any man’s was Karen’s
trademark. Along with the superior grip-position that she held made
her psychiatry professoor at Harvard tell her that she was entirely the
domineering personality-type — not that she doubted it.

“Okay… how do you play?” John asked, apparently he was unfamiliar
with the game.

“Easy, first you start by … … …”

. . . Drink-fest 1993 . . . Everyone get’s drunk and happy.
:) . . . “Hey, Karen, where are the briefs for tommorrow’s meeting?”
Scott was drunk, everyone could see that. Despite how big he was he
certainly was swaying back and forth. All night Scott was hitting on
her, touching her knees and stroking her thighs. At this point it was
definitively driving her up the wall and there was no question that Scott
was making her horny — not that she wasn’t playing the devil either,
rubbing her toes up and down his shins and sometimes even brushing past
his crotch.

“Whoa big guy, they’re at my place — you should probably pick them up.”
Karen suggested it. She was a little buzzed and felt the alcohol numb
her lips. It wasn’t a big deal though, even though she was light
in weight she had the liver of an Irishwoman. It wasn’t her liver,
however, that she was thinking of — Scott started putting his hand up
her skirt. Karen could feel that she was getting more and more excited
— her pulse quickened a little and this new stimulation was beginning
to make her breath come a little shorter.

“Oh, that’s right, I should go and get the briefs for tommorrow’s
meeting.” What a nice guy, Karen thought, Scott was definitely trying to
make it sound like business as usual for them… everyone of the guys,
she knew, wanted to ‘make it’ with the boss. It certainly wasn’t the
easiest thing being an attractive woman in charge of a large lawfirm:
when you’re commanding people call you a bitch, when you’re not they
think they can run all over you. But those times had passed and everyone
respected Karen’ s mind and personae greatly — Scott was just trying
to save her the embarrassment.

“Sure big boy, don’t fall down there… Party’s over!” Karen announced,
Scott had a little too much to drink and Cathy/John just seemed ready
to pass out. The name game had definitely taken its toll on everyone;
everyone, that is, except for her — when she was young she had taken
the time out to memorize the Who’s Who in America… obviously a boon
when playing the name-game with shots of hard-liquor.

“Uh, Miss, would you like the check?” It was the bartendar. Scott
quickly stroked his big toe against her crotch — it made Karen gasp
a little.

“Sure, drinks on me — time to go Scott.” She slapped down her credit
card and started putting her jacket on. Luckily Scott wasn’t all THAT
drunk, he got up obediently and slung his coat on. Boy, this was going
to be an interesting night — both she knew and Scott knew that no one
was going to sleep THIS evening…