Sara emerges from her closet carrying a black garment bag. She is trying to look dignified while Tara dances around her. Tara slipping in and licking a shoulder or arm before being swatted away. It’s clear that Tara is loving her game of Lick the Sara but it’s time to get this show on the road.
“Tara, it’s time to get into your outfit.”
I watch the surprise and relief flood into Sara. I can almost hear her thinking that at least with clothes on she might explain her lifestyle to her parents.
“The body artist is waiting for you in your room. They will be painting you up to look just like a fox.”
Sara’s eyes whip to mine, shock and the smallest bit of a smile washes over her face, and she says, “You…hmmf.” She flounces into the bathroom to get changed.
It’s funny. I’ve seen her cow Fortune 500 CEO’s. I’ve seen her lose a large fortune of someone else’s money and gain it back in the same day. I’ve seen her shoot a full magazine and hit her target every time. She is amazing and every time I think I’ve seen it all, there is a surprise. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her flounce before.
The alarm on my phone starts beeping. It is time for her makeup.
I knock on the door to the bathroom.
“Do you need help with anything,” I ask through the door.
“I’ve got it. Five more minutes,” she replies back.
“The alarm says now. How will you be paying for these 5 minutes?”
“How about a night of PDA(public display of affection) at the next office party,” she replies all too readily.
“That’s fine. As long as it’s your office.”
At my office we could fuck on the centerpiece and my people would just take bets on who cums first. Or take it as cue to start an orgy. When your life is regularly on the line, you generally are a bit libertine. Or, perhaps, it’s just in my recruiting methods. Maybe a bit of both.
There is a few minutes of silence and the door opens. She is wearing a black bustier with red panels. Her skirt is floor length, slit to reveal her upper thigh which is partially obscured by the holster of her very functional 10mm Glock. She looks fierce and fiery. The look only slightly marred by her bed head hair.
“You can stop ogling me. And help me lace up the bustier. I couldn’t reach the laces.”
I snap out of my surprise and lace up the back. Pulling them a little tighter than she might prefer just to remind her that she should have asked and not commanded.
As soon as I finish she strides forward, casting her voice back, “Of course my office party. Yours would just start an orgy and it takes forever to get the food out of…everything.”