Welcome To Saturn Beta - Part 25 free porn video

Tyler returned to his room, aiming to distract himself from everything Jackson had said about herself, her history, and her knowledge of what Tyler had been up to after the reception. He took an inordinately long shower, shampooing and conditioning twice, soaping and rinsing his supermodel-quality body until it shone in the overhead bathroom lights. He slipped last night's heart-shaped pink earrings out of his lobes and replaced them a couple of high-hanging platinum hoops. He dried off and meticulously styled his hair until the auburn waves hung attractively over his ears and shoulders. He sat down at the vanity and painstakingly put on his daytime foundation, lipgloss, eyeliner, mascara, blush, and eyeshadow, spending extra time and care on it, concentrating more than usual in order to occupy his mind. The end result was Tyler looking far more put-together and beautiful than he normally would be on a day without any major plans... Although he would be heading back to Miami today, when Ben was ready to go... almost certainly in the same car as Ben. The idea wasn't altogether unappealing. If they rode together, Tyler would be able to get more details from Ben on what he wanted for his event, especially regarding location, quality of catering, musical arrangements, audiovisual requirements, and so on. Everything but security. Tyler had a plan for security. One that he wouldn't be letting Ben in on until mere minutes before the event started... While putting on his gingham dress once more, Tyler looked at his bedside clock, which displayed quarter to six. Suddenly, a buzzing and ringing emanated from Tyler's purse. He rose from the vanity and grabbed his purse, opening it to reveal his pink GammaNow phone. Tyler answered the phone and said hello. "Morning," said Ben Rosenthal, from the other end. "I saw your note." "Oh. Hi," Tyler said, straightening his posture reflexively and checking his appearance in the nearest mirror. He looked amazing, as expected, and he smiled at his reflection. Ben cleared his throat. "Do you want to do breakfast first, or should we get on the road to Miami?" "Up to you," Tyler said as cutely as he could. "You're the boss this week." Ben laughed a bit. "I am, aren't I? I could probably tell you to walk back to Miami if I wanted to." "Sure," Tyler jabbed, "assuming you pay for it. Jackson's going rate for that is pretty unreasonable, though." "Hmm. Probably not worth it," Ben joked back. "Let's just meet downstairs in thirty minutes." Tyler looked at himself in the mirror again, twisting slightly on his feet in order to make his red gingham dress swirl around his knees. "I think I can make that work." "Great," Ben said, and disconnected the call. Tyler glanced around his room and began throwing all of his loose possessions into various boxes and suitcases - his bridesmaid dress, his makeup kit, last night's shoes, and so on. Something glinted from inside one of his suitcases. He leaned over and took it between his fingers - it was his pink-spinel navel ring, which he hadn't worn since his day at the spa with the other bridesmaids. Seeing it again had a calming effect on him... and slipping it under his dress and into his navel piercing felt like coming home again. There was something familiar and comfortable about it that Tyler couldn't quite put his finger on. He called the front desk to have his boxes and bags picked up, then headed down to the lobby. He didn't have to wait long for Ben, who arrived in a casual button-down shirt and crisp pair of jeans. Ben had a wheeled suitcase in one hand and a garment bag in the other, and he grinned widely when he saw Tyler... and what Tyler was wearing. "You always make me feel so underdressed," Ben said playfully. He leaned in for a good-morning kiss, which Tyler gladly gave. "I can't help it," Tyler said after the kiss ended. "I like looking pretty." "And I like you looking pretty. All set?" Tyler motioned toward the lobby doors. "Lead the way." Soon, all of Tyler's and Ben's things were piled into the trunk of a self-driving town car, while Ben and Tyler themselves sat in the main cab. They were whisked away from the hotel, toward the highway, lights pointed at Miami to the east. Tyler sat across from Ben in the car, grilling him on the details of next weekend's investors dinner. Tyler could plan the entire thing without any of Ben's input, but he didn't want there to be any surprises. Except when it came to security. Halfway through the trip down the highway, at a shady-looking diner in the middle of the Everglades, Tyler and Ben had breakfast together. When Ben raised his eyebrows at the amount of bacon and sausage Tyler ordered, Tyler bragged about the nanobots swarming around his body, and how they prevented him from gaining any weight. Along with staving off sickness and disease, keeping him looking young, and preventing him from getting pregnant... Ben shifted in his chair at the last one. "You can't get pregnant?" he said. "Nope," Tyler said, between sips of coffee. "Fortunately." "Yeah. Fortunately. I mean..." Ben lowered his voice and leaned forward. "We didn't use protection last night." Tyler's face flushed. This was a weird, uncomfortable conversation to be having. He recrossed his legs under his skirt, keeping his thighs as tight together as possible. "I don't have any diseases or anything like that," Ben continued. "In case you were wondering." Tyler tried not to laugh. "Okay. Thanks for the update." "Just making sure we're on the same page," Ben said, sitting up straight again. "I'm happy to hear we're both happy and healthy and... not able to be surprised." "Cheers to that," Tyler said, clinking his coffee mug against Ben's as the waitress delivered their food. The two of them took a couple silent bites before Tyler decided to jump into business mode again. "I'll need a way to pay for everything," he said. "Like a line of credit, or access to a business expense account." Ben chewed his eggs. "No problem." "And I'd like a list of everyone who's coming. Names, contact information, maybe pictures if you have them." "For security?" Ben asked, and Tyler nodded yes. "Good. We're big on security lately. My father especially." Tyler very nearly dropped his fork. Ben's father. Gordon Rosenthal. That was a name Tyler hadn't thought about in months... even though it was the very name that put him in his current situation in the first place. His heart pounded furiously behind his well-endowed chest. "Ah," Tyler said, with a wavering voice. "He's cool. You'd like him." Tyler cleared his throat nervously. "I'm sure I would." "Funny story, speaking of security, and my dad," Ben began, while stabbing at some home fries with his fork. "This thing happened, about... three months ago, give or take. We had a breach at the company. Don't ask me how it happened, but someone had gotten a hold of my dad's important data. Bank account numbers, private routing codes, a few passwords, social security info, address book, you name it." Tyler's previous life came hard and fast back to the forefront of his mind. Ben wasn't talking about just some security breach - he was talking about Tyler's own failed scam. For the first time in a long time, the body of Violet Taylor felt completely alien to him. He looked down at his red dress, wondering why the hell a guy like him was wearing something so girly. Even the fabulous auburn hair on his head, which he had grown so accustomed to and which he took so much feminine pride in, was an unwelcome invader that covered his ears and the back of his neck. Tyler suddenly became very fidgety. The deepest soul of him wanted to run from the diner and never look back. Ben drank some orange juice and spoke again. "The security guys at the company locked everything down, once the breach was detected. My father changed all his passwords, called his banks, migrated his info to a private server without external access, and so on. The security team had a bead on the guy who stole my dad's data... 'he left a trail', they said. One of the security admins knew a bounty hunter. An actual, real-life bounty hunter, apparently. And the admin was about to give him a call and have him physically track down the guy who breached our system." It was the closest Tyler had ever come to fainting. He hadn't even been this terrified, or this mind-fucked, when Jackson had turned him into a beautiful young woman back on Saturn Beta. He was convinced the jig was up, that Ben was about to reveal that he knew the true identity of Violet Taylor. Tyler placed his hands in his lap, shivered in fear, and waited for the inevitable. "My dad said no," Ben said. He took a mouthful of eggs and potatoes into his mouth and chewed slowly, nonchalantly, even carelessly. Tyler's stomach stopped churning. "He what?" "He said no. To the bounty hunter thing. He didn't even get the police involved." Ben swallowed his mouthful. "He blamed himself for being careless, and he blamed the security methods the company had in place. He told the security admins to consider it a learning opportunity, and he increased their budget by thirty percent that very day. And now," Ben said, pointing at his smartphone, "everyone in the company has timescramble encryption." Tyler took a few seconds to process everything Ben had just divulged. It was a lot to take in. Gordon Rosenthal did, in fact, have Tyler locked in his sights at one point... and Gordon decided not to pull the trigger. Tyler had been tracked down, but he had never been in legitimate danger. Which meant he never needed to flee to Saturn Beta in the first place. All the discomfort, awkwardness, trauma, groping, inconvenience, and embarrassment he had gone through in the last three months had been completely unnecessary. He could have just stayed in Miami. He could have stayed... male. Ben continued: "There's this rumor around town about my dad," he said. "That he's some kind of kingpin, really ruthless, and whatnot. It's only part true. He's involved with a lot of different industries, and he's pretty merciless when it comes to business matters, but he's a big softy at heart. He doesn't let anyone know that, though. It would ruin his image." "Ah," Tyler whimpered, lost for words. He hardly said anything through the rest of breakfast. He also hardly said anything during the remainder of the drive to Miami; and when they arrived at Ben's condo on the highest floor of a luxury residential skyscraper, Tyler excused himself to Ben's guest room, claiming to need a nap. He spent the next couple of hours in bed, on his back, staring at the ceiling. ***** Tyler grew tired of thinking. He got up from the guest room bed, found a full-length mirror in the closet, stripped out of his red gingham dress and the lingerie underneath, and looked at himself in the nude. He started at the top and worked his way down, examining every part of his fantastic female body. The mop of wavy auburn hair, the devastatingly beautiful face, the defined neck and collarbones, the well-proportioned shoulders, the large and supple breasts, the sexy flat tummy, the eye-catching pierced navel, the wide hips, the statuesque legs, the tiny cute feet... it was perfect. He was perfect. Violet Taylor was perfect, as attractive as any woman he had ever seen. And he had been needlessly, forcefully given the duty to live as her for three months. In the end, none of it had been necessary. Tyler stood there in the closet, looking at his naked frame, deciding on something once and for all: had it been worth it? Had he enjoyed himself enough to compensate for all the bullshit he'd endured? Was the time spent in the body of Violet Taylor an overall benefit to his life? Pulling a hand through his auburn locks, he sighed. "Yeah," he told his reflection. "Just... admit it, Tyler. Yeah. It was." He lowered himself and sat crosslegged in front of the mirror, feeling like he owed himself a lecture and a pep talk. He took a couple deep breaths, sorted his thoughts, and began. "Fuck Gordon Rosenthal, and fuck the security team at his company," he said quietly, not wanting Ben to hear him. "And fuck Dennis for overreacting and shipping you into space for your own protection. And fuck Jackson for tricking you. And fuck Lola for being so mean all the time. Fuck all the gross men at the lounge events. Fuck all the grabby hands in the elevators. Fuck Ozzie." Tyler paused. "Don't fuck Ozzie," he said with a smile. "See? You're joking about it. You let him suck on your tits, and he made you suck his dick, and you can joke about it now. You wouldn't be able to do that if you were still upset. So stop being such a victim. Stop trying to stay upset about what you look like and what you have between your legs." He looked sternly at his reflection for several minutes. Eventually, he repeated those words of wisdom that Connie Giordano had provided a long time ago: "We like what we like, Tyler Hillman," he said to the mirror in a comforting voice. He stood again, got into his bra and panties, zipped himself into his gingham dress, smoothed his skirt, primped his hair, and took proud pleasure in the finished product. He put his hands on his hips, turned his back to the mirror, and said one last thing to his reflection: "Now get out there, Violet Taylor, and enjoy the rest of your vacation. And let's make some goddamn money." ***** Ben had lunch ready by the time Tyler had coaxed himself out of the guest room. The food was set out on Ben's balcony, with a sweeping view of the beach and the Atlantic Ocean beyond. Ben turned from his spot on a wicker love seat as Tyler slid the balcony door open. "Hey," Ben said with a smile. "Sleep well?" "Not really," said Tyler in a singsong way. "I'll probably sleep great tonight. I didn't get a ton of sleep last night..." He held his skirt and sat on the love seat next to Ben. "This guy I know kept me up late." "Hmm," Ben said. "I'll have a talk with him, and tell him never to let it happen again." Tyler giggled and leaned forward for a kiss, long and passionate, with open mouths and hands resting on cheeks. Tyler soon found himself straddling Ben from above as they made out furiously, with an intensity matching the time they had made out on the Saturn Beta elevator. Tyler reveled in it, finally free from all the uptight feelings he'd harbored about being temporarily female. He would take advantage of it for now. There was no reason not to. Jackson and Paul were gone. There was nobody around to embarrass him about his circumstances... not even Tyler himself. Besides, he had an endgame planned here, one that required Ben Rosenthal to be compliant. Tyler knew exactly how to steer him that way. Ben pulled away from the kiss as his penis achieved rigidity inside his pants. "Do you want to go inside?" he gasped at the stunning beauty in the red gingham dress. "Tell you what," Tyler said, rubbing some stray saliva off the corner of his mouth. "You get me that account access I asked for, then we can do whatever you want the rest of the night. Business before pleasure." Ben quickly found his phone sitting on the love seat's armrest. He picked it up, unlocked it, and began thumbing through the various menus and applications with fervor. Tyler spent this time stroking Ben's chest through his shirt, or playing with his hair, or tracing his finger ever- so-lightly over Ben's pants zipper... just enough teasing physical contact to keep Ben up but not push him over the edge. Ben began to sweat, and not because of the warm Miami sun. Tyler grinned mischeivously. "Done," Ben said, after several frustrating minutes of this. He turned the phone and showed the screen to Tyler. "I opened a line of credit for you. It should be more than enough to pay for everything." Tyler's voice lowered into something more sultry. "Good boy," he said. He took the phone from Ben, imported the list of addresses to Ben's messaging app, and sent it to Violet Taylor's pink phone. "Satisfied?" Ben said desperately. Tyler smirked at him. "Almost. Now I want you to take me on a tour of your condo." He leaned downward and whispered into Ben's ear, "Starting with the master bedroom." "Yes ma'am," Ben said. He wrapped his arms tightly around Tyler, shoved off the love seat, and waddled into his condo as fast as he could. He didn't bother closing the balcony door. ***** They lay together in the aftermath of lovemaking, held eachother as post-coital exhaustion caused them to doze off, showered together once they woke up, and finally ate together out on the balcony. The sandwiches Ben had made were now warmed to the temperature of Miami's late afternoon, and the ice in the pitcher of lemonade had long since melted away, but neither of them minded. At least the heat hadn't harmed the potato chips. They chewed and drank silently, content to enjoy eachother's company without the need for words. They watched the waves roll and watched the beach patrons swim and play volleyball. They made idle chitchat eventually, after lunch was finished, with Ben's arm around Tyler's waist, and Tyler's head resting against Ben's shoulder. "I like this," Ben said as the sun set in the west, out of view. "Mmm," Tyler said, noncommitally, because he knew exactly what Ben meant by that. Ben wanted Tyler to stay with him, not just for the week leading up to the investors dinner, but beyond that. As much as Tyler had finally, finally embraced his brief foray into the world of femininity, he wasn't quite ready to go that far. Still, he threw himself headlong into being Ben's houseguest-with- benefits. He made no use of the guest room that night, other than as a place to keep his boxes and suitcases. He was quite content to slip into a blue satin nightie and spend the night in Ben's room, in Ben's bed large king bed, wrapped in Ben's arms and listening to Ben's sleepy breathing. Tyler rose in the morning before Ben awoke and gave himself the tour of the condo that Ben had never gotten around to yesterday. It was a big place. Well furnished, too, with an expansive kitchen and a living room with very modern furnishings. Big windows that showed big views of the Atlantic Ocean. Three bedrooms, a real wood fireplace, an eight-seated formal dining room, an office... about the only thing it didn't have was a basement. Tyler wondered if it was family money paying for this, or if Ben's job as a vice president paid enough by itself. Tyler grabbed his pink GammaNow QX7 and a stray pad of paper, took a seat at the kitchen table, and set to work as the sun rose in the east. He pinpointed the center of downtown Miami and began searching for hotels nearby, then calling to see what conference rooms they had available for Saturday night. He had only just gotten a hold of the third hotel when Ben opened the master bedroom door and looked out, blearily and with rumpled hair, wearing only boxer shorts. "Hey," he groaned. Not a morning person, apparently. Tyler covered the microphone on the bottom of his pink phone. "Did I wake you up?" "Nah," Ben said. "I have an alarm. You would be my best friend in the universe if you started a pot of coffee while I take a shower." Ben pointed across the way to the coffeemaker on his kitchen countertop. Tyler looked over at it, then looked back at Ben and smiled shrewdly at him. "I'm not your cook," he said. "And some of us are working right now, as you can see by the phone in my hand and the legal pad on the table." Ben shrugged. "Fair enough," he said. He walked past Tyler and got going on the coffee. Tyler, meanwhile, wheeled and dealed with the events manager on the other end of the phone, scribbling on his paper pad while Ben watched from behind the kitchen island. The coffee pot was halfway brewed when Tyler finished up on the phone. He looked over at Ben triumphantly. "That was easy," Tyler said. "We've got a room for Saturday. Seating for forty, staging, a projector and a screen, a full bar. Oh, and they can cater for us on-site if we want." Ben harrumphed. "Wow. You are good." "I'll bet you the events manager was trying to pawn it off," Tyler said, as he scrawled a few more notes on his paper. "Hotel conference rooms are a perishable commodity, after all. The hotel loses money if it's not occupied." "Huh. I didn't know that." "You tend to learn these things when you've been in the event planning business as long as I have," Tyler joked. He rose from the kitchen table, walked past the island, and put his arms around Ben's waist. "How'd you sleep?" Ben leaned in for a gentle good-morning kiss. "Decent." He reached around Tyler's back, slipped his hands under the blue nightie, and gave Tyler's firm ass a pleasant squeeze. He rested his forehead on Tyler's and closed his eyes. "I really don't want to leave." "Yeah," Tyler said. "Gotta go back to the grind, though. Otherwise you'll never be able to afford my services." "I'm jumping in the shower," Ben said, letting go of Tyler's butt and wandering back toward the master bedroom. "And I have to insist you stay out here until I'm fully dressed. The thought of playing hooky and hopping right back into bed is just far too tempting when you're wearing that." Tyler pinched the hem of his stain nightie as the door shut behind Ben, smiling all the way. While the coffee finished up, he picked up his phone again and brought up his mapping utility. He put in the address for the hotel, then put in another location - Ramona's Coffee Shop. The data coalesced quickly. Ramona's was a four-minute taxi ride from the hotel Tyler had just booked... and it was right across the street from Dennis' office. "Perfect," Tyler said. He heard the shower turn on as he tore off the top sheet of his pad of paper and began writing away on the next sheet. ***** Ben came out of the bedroom a while later wearing a button down shirt, pressed slacks, and jacket. Tyler was still in his nightie and still seated at the kitchen table, although now he had a cup of coffee near his hand. He didn't look up from his legal pad as Ben went into the kitchen. "You're not wasting any time, are you?" he said as he poured coffee into a commuter mug. "You need to pace yourself more. Don't burn yourself out the first day on the job." Tyler looked up at Ben and smirked. "Would it blow your mind if I told you that I was hoping to get everything booked by the end of today?" "Um," Ben said, putting the empty coffee pot in the sink. "Yes, actually. Why do you want to do that?" "Because a week is a really short time, and there's things people say yes to on Monday morning that they can't say yes to on Thursday afternoon. The sooner I can get every aspect of Saturday night sorted out, the better chance we have of everything going smoothly." Leaning against the nearest wall, Ben folded his arms. "That's a really good point." Ben looked at the kitchen clock. "I should get moving. I left an extra keycard for you on the bedside table. Feel free to come and go as you please. Mi casa es su casa." "Sounds good," Tyler said. He rose from the kitchen table and followed Ben to the front door, where the two shared a gentle goodbye kiss. Tyler made a small breakfast after Ben left, got dressed in a purple blouse and knee-length white flared skirt, and continued working. And, true to his word earlier, he was done planning just about every aspect of Ben's investors dinner before lunchtime. Everything but security. ***** Tyler lay sideways on one of Ben's sofas, looking out over the Atlantic, waiting for Ben to get home. He had gotten bored over the course of the day. After finishing his event planning - except for booking security - he thought about going down to the beach, but decided against it when he realized he wasn't quite ready to go there alone while occupying his current body. And now he was bored. This was the thing with info-brokering - it was a slow business for patient people, ten percent action and ninety percent waiting. Event planning was a lot like that, too: make some calls, send some messages, wait for responses, wait for proposals and contracts, then wait for the day of the event to come around on the calendar. Tyler wondered if other people's jobs were like this. He pictured wage-slave employees, sitting at their desks and watching the clock tick. He pictured Ben, in his office, waiting around for meetings to start, or waiting for important documents to arrive in his inbox. Waiting, waiting, waiting... "God..." whined Tyler, finally rising up from the sofa and trying to figure out how to be a bit more active. He wandered around the condo, looking for something to do, until eventually he found himself with a dishrag in his hand, rubbing Ben's countertops to a mirror shine. He loaded the dishwasher and started the cycle. He unpacked a few of his boxes and suitcases, loading up the guest room dresser drawers with his accumulated panties, bras, jewelry, and stockings. He went through the rest of his feminine clothing, hanging up the pieces that looked presentable and piling up the things that could stand to be cleaned or unwrinkled. He eventually left Ben's condo, with a laundry bag slung over his shoulder, then took the elevator down to the in-house dry cleaning service. They promised to have all his dresses, skirts, blouses, and underwear spotless for him by Wednesday afternoon. When Tyler came back up to Ben's condo, he did a mental double-take on himself. He realized what he'd been doing for the last couple hours - cleaning, tidying up, taking care of the laundry. He was acting like a maid. Or even... a housewife. The realization made Tyler laugh a bit. A housewife. Back before he'd entered the info-brokering business, he'd occasionally fantasized about having a perfect, helpful little woman to come home to at the end of a long day at the office. Someone who would keep the place clean, take care of all the little niggling errands that needed to be done, cook dinner... A sly smile crept across Tyler's face. He could cook, if he wanted to. He'd helped cook dinner most nights while living with Amber in Este Golfo. He knew what he was doing in the kitchen and genuinely enjoyed the act of cooking, and he knew it was a great way to kill some time. And boy, he had all the time in the world to kill between now and Saturday night. Tyler raided Ben's cupboards and refrigerator for every edible thing he could find. A quick call to the nearest grocery drone delivery service netted Tyler everything he needed to make chicken marsala, one of his favorite recipes that Amber had taught him. He sent a message to Ben asking when he would be home from work. Ben replied with SIX FIFTEEN, WHY? Tyler responded with NO REASON. JUST CURIOUS. He got going on dinner at a quarter past five. At six, while the chicken simmered in the wine sauce and the salad cooled in the refrigerator, Tyler went into the guest room, where he touched up his makeup, brushed his hair out, and put on a pair of three-inch purple heels that matched the color of his blouse. Five minutes before Ben arrived home, Tyler uncorked a bottle of wine and began setting the table in the formal dining room... a room Ben had rarely used, according to the thin layer of dust on every surface. Tyler heard the front door open. He finished putting the wineglasses in place just as the door shut again. "Violet?" Ben announced loudly. Tyler walked proudly out of the dining room and into the kitchen atop his heels. "Hey, you," he said to Ben, while swaying his hips on his way toward his temporary employer. "How was work?" "Uh," Ben said, struck dumb at Tyler's outfit and appearance. "Pretty good, I guess. Something smells amazing." "That's sweet of you to say, but I haven't put on any perfume." Ben laughed as he took off his jacket. "You're just full of jokes, all the time, aren't you?" "I am. And I made dinner. Just chicken and some salad, but it's probably better than what you usually eat." He put his arms around Ben's waist and kissed him hello. "I know how you bachelors eat. Frozen dinners and Chinese take-out, every night of the week." "And how would you know what bachelors eat?" "I have my sources," Tyler said. If only Ben knew... Tyler dished up the chicken and Ben grabbed the salad and a wine bottle. He raced past Tyler in order to arrive at the table first, so he could pull Tyler's chair out for him. Tyler held the back of his skirt and graciously accepted the gentlemanly gesture, then accepted another, longer kiss from Ben. "This is great," Ben said, breaking away from the kiss and sitting on the other side of the table. "Thanks for putting all this together. And... yeah, you're right. I don't eat that well most of the time." Tyler scooted his chair under the table and crossed his legs. "It happens. You're busy, I'm sure." "Not as busy as you. Did you get any more planning done for Saturday?" Tyler nodded, then switched his mind into business mode. "Everything but security. I should have that sorted out tomorrow." "Great! Well, let's not let this get cold. Hopefully it tastes as good as it smells." The chicken marsala didn't disappoint Ben. He raved about it from the first bite, eating it so quickly that he barely stopped to breathe. He finished his salad soon after, before Tyler was even halfway done with his own meal. Ben washed it all down with a second glass of wine, patted his mouth with a cloth napkin that probably hadn't been used in years, and folded his hands on his lap. "Well," he said in an impressed tone, "that was fantastic. I had no idea you were such a good cook." "Neither did I," Tyler said. "I didn't think it was possible for someone to eat that fast. I guess you were hungry." "I was." He leaned forward a bit on the table. "Actually, I'm still a bit hungry. I think I'm going to eat something else." "I saw some ice cream in your freezer earlier, if you want dessert." "Hmm," Ben said. He rose from his chair, crossed to the other side of the table, and gave Tyler a long, loving kiss. "I'm not really in the mood for ice cream." Tyler chuckled. "Suit yourself," he said, He cut a piece of chicken and stabbed it with his fork. Ben rubbed Tyler's shoulder gently, took a step back from the table, and knelt. He then crawled underneath on all fours. And then Tyler finally figured out what Ben meant when he said he was going to eat something else. "Oh," Tyler said dumbly, as Ben placed a hand on Tyler's exposed right knee. The hand went around and under the kneecap, where Ben lifted Tyler's entire right leg, uncrossing it from his left. Tyler's heart began pounding as Ben's hands drifted under Tyler's flared skirt, to his inner thighs. Several deft fingers stroked the skin around Tyler's white silk panties. Tyler flinched and gasped at the attention. He couldn't see what Ben was doing under the table, but he sure as hell could feel it. And it felt incredible. As Tyler's pussy began to moisten, after a minute of careful teasing, Tyler felt Ben's fingers travel under the elastic waistband of his panties. Tyler lifted his ass off the chair, making the panty removal easier for the handsome bachelor under the table, and waited for the glorious inevitable. Tyler's breathing quickened as his panties were pulled down below his knees, past his shins and over the heels he wore on his feet. Ben lifted the front of Tyler's skirt and moved his head in. Tyler smiled with an open, moaning mouth as Ben blew a sustained stream of cold air on Tyler's engorged clit. Then Ben's tongue made contact with Tyler's slit, lapping with long strokes, up and down the length of Tyler's labia. Tyler dropped his silverware loudly when Ben's ministrations finally reached the sensitive nub at the top of Tyler's lower lips. All Tyler could do was sit there, with his palms flat against the table, eyes nearly bugging out of his skull as Ben continued to enjoy the pussy in his face. Minutes passed as Tyler grew closer to climax. Soon, Ben introduced his fingers to Tyler's vaginal canal, putting pressure on all the right spots in order to get the most pleasurable reaction out of the stunning young event planner sitting at his dining room table. Tyler's breathing came only in short gasps as his orgasm drew nearer and nearer, and he put his hands under the table to hold Ben's head, steering it, guiding it, wordlessly encouraging Ben to finish the job. And as the climax hit, Tyler yelped and threw his head back, as his eyes widened and his body spasmed. Ben pulled his face away and waited for Tyler's orgasm to subside. After a while, Tyler finally loosened his grip on Ben's head and let his arms slacken over the sides of the chair. Ben moved his head out from under Tyler's skirt, and the skirt fell back down to cover Tyler's nethers. "Are you done?" Ben said from his supplicant position under the table. Tyler stopped panting. "Done... with what?" "Dinner." "Um," Tyler said, wondering why the hell Ben was asking about food at a time like this. "I don't know. No. I still have... some salad. I'm not done." "Good," Ben said, lifting Tyler's skirt once more. "Neither am I." Amid the sounds of Tyler's girlish moans, Ben went back in for another helping. ***** Twenty minutes and four orgasms later, Ben had finally had his fill. By now, Tyler was a sweaty, quivering mess. Ben got out from under the table, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and stood beside Tyler. Eventually Tyler opened his eyes and looked up at Ben. "My compliments to the chef," Ben said. He leaned forward, gave Tyler a quick kiss on the forehead, and gathered up the plates and utensils. Tyler just sat there and watched Ben clear the table. He had nothing to say in that moment. He was too busy trying to wrap his mind around what had just happened. Since becoming female and experiencing intimate moments, both in private and in the company of others, he was no stranger to the multiorgasmic capabilities of his current body... but, god... Ben's masterwork from under the table made Tyler reevaluate everything he thought he knew about sex. He would miss this. He would definitely miss this, once he was back in his old male body. He thought back to what Jackson - as Raj - had said back in Este Golfo. The story about how Ringed Amusements had a side of the business that gave tourists the opportunity to... modify their bodies for entirely sexual purposes through the miracle of nanosurgery. Tyler wondered how much that kind of thing cost. Maybe he'd go back to Saturn Beta sometime, in a few years or so, and take another vacation in the body of Violet Taylor... Tyler heard the dishwasher start, and it snapped him back to the present moment, where he was still Violet Taylor and his panties were still on the dining room floor. He backed his chair out from under the table, retrieved his panties, hiked them on under his skirt and over his hips, adjusted the hem on his skirt, and walked into the kitchen on his three inch heels. Ben was wiping his hands on a paper towel. He raised his head as Tyler entered the kitchen. "Hey," he said. "Hi," Tyler said with a froggy, spent voice. He cleared his throat. "Thanks for... um... that." "No sweat. Thanks for dinner." Tyler leaned weakly against the kitchen island. "Jesus. I'll have to cook more often, I guess." "Feel free. I haven't had a homecooked meal that good since I was in high school." They stood in silence for a moment, until Ben was satisfied with the cleanliness of his kitchen. He tossed the paper towel, came around the island, and squeezed Tyler's perky ass. "I'm going to brush my teeth," Ben said. He smiled and disappeared into the master bedroom. Tyler only hesitated for a few seconds before he followed along, into the bathroom, where he picked up his own toothbrush and stood shoulder to shoulder with his newest lover. They gave eachother several quick looks in the mirror as they cleaned their teeth. There was something weirdly personal about this... about taking care of personal hygiene in the same room at the same time. Ben seemed to enjoy it. Tyler did, too, but he had no idea why. Another night passed with Tyler in his blue nightie, being spooned from behind by Ben, under the covers in the master bedroom. They woke late the next morning, and Ben rushed off to work before Tyler was done making the coffee. Tyler watched Ben go down the hallway to the elevator, then went into the guest room to get properly dressed for the day. While there, he unpacked the rest of his boxes and suitcases... and there, zipped up in the interior pocket of his smallest case, was his old phone. A phone he hadn't used at all since arriving in Este Golfo. Next to it, still wrapped up in anti-static sleeves, were the parts of the disassembled puller. He looked at the objects with curiosity, barely remembering what they looked like. Seeing them again snapped him out of the feminine-vacation mindset he'd been cultivating over the last couple of days. He took the phone and pressed the power button. It immediately beeped and vibrated with a notification - a message from Dennis. "Oh," Tyler said as he thumbed around, opening Dennis' message: HEY. HAVEN'T HEARD FROM YOU IN A WHILE. I HOPE YOU'RE OKAY. It was actually a long thread of messages, each from Dennis, each message being sent a week or more apart. The next one read, DID THAT CHICK TELL YOU WHAT HAPPENED WITH THE PACKAGE YOU SENT ME? "Yes, she did," Tyler told his phone. That chick had been Violet Taylor. Dennis' message thread continued: DON'T TAKE IT PERSONALLY. BUT YOU REALLY NEED TO BE MORE CAREFUL. NEITHER OF US ARE AS GOOD AT THIS AS WE USED TO BE. Everything Dennis had said during their face-to-face meeting, months ago, came flooding back to Tyler's mind. Dennis had said Tyler was getting sloppy in his old age, going after riskier targets, letting petty emotions like the desire for revenge cloud his judgement. It had upset Tyler in a big way... so much that he had spent all his time in Este Golfo trying desperately to forget all about it. And he had forgotten about it, for the most part... until Ben Rosenthal unexpectedly showed up in the bridal boutique a couple weeks ago. The last message from Dennis, timestamped three days ago, said, WHEN WILL YOU BE BACK? KEEP IN TOUCH. LET ME KNOW HOW YOU'RE DOING. Tyler snickered. "I'm doing fuckin' great, Dennis," he said, sitting down on the guest room bed and crossing his legs under his skirt. He dropped the phone on the bed and stared at an empty wall for a minute before standing up again and heading to the kitchen to make breakfast. He had his coffee, two eggs, and an English muffin while sitting on the balcony, watching the Atlantic roll in and out from the great height of Ben's condo. He chewed slowly. Finally, not seeing much reason to put it off any longer, Tyler placed his dishes in the sink and went back to his phone in the guest room. He unlocked it and formed his reply carefully. I'M FINE, he wrote, then he took a deep breath before writing the rest: BE AT YOUR OFFICE ON SATURDAY NIGHT. Tyler's thumb hovered over the Send button for a few seconds, but then he decided to add one more thing: I'LL BE BACK ON EARTH SOON. YOU AND I ARE ABOUT TO RETIRE. ***** Tuesday night was lazy, with Ben deciding to bring home some Chinese take-out and collapsing on the sofa to watch a baseball game. Tyler was fine with that - he loved baseball but hadn't had the chance to watch much since that fateful rocket ride to Saturn Beta, months ago. As they ate their Chinese, Tyler snuggled close to Ben and rattled off statistics, player names, team records, and a long list of other things that no Martian mining-colony girl had any business knowing. When Ben asked him how he became such an expert on a sport played on a different planet, Tyler shrugged and made something up: there wasn't much to do on Mars, you had to occupy your time with something, and Tyler chose baseball. That answer satisfied Ben, who watched the game exhaustedly while Tyler watched with rapt attention. There was little in the way of romance between Tyler and Ben that night - just a sweet, tongueless goodnight kiss at a quarter to ten, when Ben retired to bed after deciding he couldn't keep his eyes open any longer. He was completely fried, he said, from doing his usual job at the office while also preparing for the investors dinner. "Is there anything else I can help with?" Tyler asked, moving closer to Ben under the covers of the master bed. Ben's arm went around Tyler's satin-covered waist. "Nah. You've already done plenty. Believe me." Ben paused momentarily. "Hey, is everything all ready for Saturday? You said you'd gotten everything done except security." "I got security taken care of," Tyler replied. "Two big guards in nice suits standing in front of the conference room doors. We're all good to go." "Hmm. Seems like overkill." "It might be. You can't ever be too secure, though. Remember what happened with your father's data?" Ben emitted a big yawn. "Yeah." No further words were exchanged before Ben fell asleep. Tyler rolled over when Ben's heartbeat began to slow. He looked across the dark room, deep in thought, planning the next few days. Tyler hoped everything would go well at the investors dinner. Everything except for security, of course. There wouldn't be any big guys in nice suits. Tyler had never booked any guards, and he wasn't going to. ***** Tyler had breakfast waiting for Ben in the morning, and Ben was thoroughly appreciative of it. He still felt like he should get to the office as early as possible, however, so he wolfed down the bacon and eggs Tyler made with abandon. Tyler kissed him goodbye and cleaned up the dishes again. Tyler wondered why he had become so willing to do all this cooking and cleaning on behalf of his client, even without being required or asked. He thought about it as he wiped off the countertops... maybe he felt obligated to, considering how much Ben was paying for Tyler's services this week. Maybe Tyler just liked being helpful around the house. Maybe he really liked Ben, and wanted to make domestic life as easy on him as possible... Once the kitchen was spotless, Tyler went for a shower in the master bathroom. He spent an extra long time soaping and rinsing his bounteous breasts, knowing that he only had the pleasure of their company for four more days. He squeezed them, pinched the nipples, lifted them and let them drop, and did everything else he could think of. He even tried bringing a breast up to his mouth to see if he could suck on his own nipple... he couldn't, it turned out. He laughed it off but was, in a strange way, a bit disappointed. "Oh well," he said as he stepped out of the shower and began drying himself. While he was attending to his hair, he heard a faint noise coming from the other side of the condo. He wrapped the towel around his boobs and walked into the guest room. The noise had come from his old black phone, which he had stowed in the suitcase pocket again. He opened the pocket and looked at the phone, finding another message from Dennis: WHAT DO YOU MEAN? PLEASE TELL ME YOU AREN'T STILL TRYING TO DO BUSINESS WITH YOUR LAST PROSPECT. The last sentence of the message was Dennis' roundabout way of wondering if Tyler was still targetting Ben Rosenthal. And no, Tyler wasn't still targeting Ben. Tyler had moved on to bigger, better, older, easier fish to catch. Speaking of which... today was Wednesday. This was the day Tyler had planned to enact another part of his plan. He needed Ben for this, and he also needed to prepare a little something himself. Tyler placed his old, black phone in the suitcase pocket and retrieved his new, pink phone from his purse. Then he sat at the kitchen table and began composing an email, with Ben as the sole recipient. When Tyler was about halfway done, the doorbell rang. He stood, went to the door, and looked through the video peephole. Outside the door was a delivery drone, dragging a rack full of Tyler's dry cleaning behind him. "Oh, good," said Tyler, opening the door. Tyler brought his clothes in from the hallway and absentmindedly began hanging everything up in the guest room closet. He was working out the best way to proceed with what needed to be done next... and he didn't want to have to wait until tonight. The sooner he got that email out, the more likely it would be read by its intended audience in time for Saturday night. While still putting his clothes away, Tyler stopped at a particular outfit on the rack. It was his burnt-orange skirt suit with the white blouse, the one he had worn for his first job with AG&M - when he and Renee had been there to meet-and-greet with a rocket full of VIP's. Ben had been on that rocket. Tyler recalled it well. Tyler studied the skirt suit for a moment and got an idea. He did his makeup as quickly as he could without getting sloppy - just a bit of foundation, eyeliner, subdued lipstick, and mascara. He took the skirt suit out of its plastic covering, put on the white blouse, and wrapped his toned legs in a pair of sheer, dark pantyhose. He stepped into the form-hugging pencil skirt and zipped it up behind, then put the matching jacket on and did up the buttons. Lastly he put on the only appropriate jewelry for the occasion - dangling pearl earrings and a matching pearl necklace. He fit his feet into his white four-inch pumps, looked at himself in the nearest mirror, and approved of what he saw. He looked at the clock in the kitchen. It was now a quarter past ten... plenty of time for Ben to have gotten settled at work for the day, and not too close to lunchtime. "Perfect," Tyler said, as he slung his purse over his shoulder and strode confidently to the front door. ***** The center of the Rosenthal business empire was on the eightieth floor of a massive building in the heart of Miami's commercial sector. A severe-looking, matronly receptionist manned the desk outside the elevator. Tyler walked over to the desk, heels clicking along the polished stone floors as he went. The receptionist looked dismissively - and perhaps enviously - at Tyler's bulging breasts before meeting his eyes. "Can I help you?" she said. "Hi," Tyler said, leaning forward on the desk, showing off his cleavage a bit more. "I'm here to see Ben Rosenthal." The receptionist looked unamused. "Okay. And you are?" "Violet Taylor. I'm Mr. Rosenthal's event planner." "Is he expecting you this morning?" Tyler smiled wryly. "He's always expecting me." The receptionist turned away from Tyler and picked up a telephone under the counter. She pressed a couple buttons, waited a moment, and spoke softly to the person on the other end while occasionally glaring back at Tyler. After a few seconds she hung up the phone. "Mr. Rosenthal will be out in a minute." "Thank you," Tyler said in the sweetest voice he could. He folded his hands over his pencil skirt as the receptionist rolled her eyes. Tyler spent a few minutes idly standing around before the frosted glass door to his right opened. Out stepped an older gentleman, wearing an understated but well-fitting suit, bespectacled and slightly heavyset, somewhere in his late fifties... who Tyler recognized immediately. It was a Rosenthal, all right, though not the one Tyler had been expecting. His pulse skyrocketed. "Hmm," Gordon Rosenthal, Ben's father, the big man himself, said upon seeing Tyler. His stern, wrinkled mouth curved into half a smile. "It's Violet, right?" "Y-yeah," stammered Tyler, faced with the man he'd tried to rip off all those months ago. "Hi." "Hi. Come on in, young lady." Gordon stepped to the side and held the door open for Tyler, who tried to relax as he walked away from the reception desk and into the office proper. Gordon followed behind and eventually moved to Tyler's side. The office within was a flurry of activity, full of men and women talking into headsets, typing away on tablet, thumbing around on smartphones, and whatnot. Those who made eye contact with Gordon nodded with casual awe, and Gordon nodded back. "I'm Ben's father," Gordon said as he ushered Tyler around a corner, toward a row of closed-door offices. "We were in a brainstorming session, and I was the least-necessary person in the room... so here I am, playing tour guide." He looked down at Tyler with the same half-smile he'd had before. "Ah," Tyler replied, tugging downward on his skirt, like he always did when he was nervous. "Um... I hope I'm not interrupting anything." "Nah. The meeting was about the event on Saturday, anyway. And we were about to wrap it up. You have good timing." Tyler adjusted the purse strap on his shoulder. "Oh. Glad to hear it." "Ben speaks very highly of you, by the way," Gordon continued. "He tells me you threw an entire wedding together in two months?" "Yup." "Well, nicely done. Criminy, my wife needed a year and a half to get our wedding just right. Everything had to be perfect." "Well," said Tyler, sensing an opportunity to be clever and endearing, "that must be why she married you." Gordon laughed loudly, covering his mouth after the first bellow. "Good, good," he said upon catching his breath. "Ben said you had some wit in you. I can see why he likes you so much. Well, here we are." Gordon stopped in front of a private office. A man and a woman, carrying tablet computers and wearing suits, walked out of the office briskly. Tyler thought he recognized them... they might have been some of the people Ben had come to Saturn Beta with. Some of the investors he'd been babysitting. Ben peeked his head around the doorframe, then forced a grin at Tyler. "Hi," he said. "Sorry. Busy." "I'll bet," Tyler said. Ben stepped out and motioned Tyler inside. Tyler glanced around the office, surprised at how small it was. He'd expected the son of one of the southeast's most prominent business magnates to have a workspace the size of a swimming pool, not this dinky little thing. It was less than half the size of Jackson's office back on Beta. Gordon stood outside Ben's office, admiring Tyler from behind. "Well, I'll let you two get to it. Nice to meet you, Violet. I expect you'll be there Saturday night?" "Definitely," Tyler replied. "Thank you, Mr. Rosenthal." Gordon's eyes narrowed. "That's the first and last time you call me that, Violet. It's Gordon." He pulled the office door shut while giving Ben a knowing look, the kind of look men share when they're thoroughly impressed with the quality of women nearby. Tyler had seen that look a lot lately. Hell, he'd given that look more times than he could count, back in his old body. Ben took a deep breath and sighed dramatically. "Okay. So, that's my dad..." "That's your dad," said Tyler, smoothing his jacket and skirt. "You look anxious." Tyler took his purse off his shoulder and placed it on a chair in the corner. "Well, yeah," he said, inventing a story to explain his nervousness. "I mean, your dad is... he's a big shot, right? CEO? President? Chairman of the board? It's hard not to get a bit jumpy around guys like that." "I told you, he's a big softy," Ben replied. "Well, whatever. What's up?" "Right," Tyler said. He tried to forget about Gordon, reached into his purse, and pulled out his pink GammaNow QX7. "Okay. I've got a message here that I need you to send to your guests. I've loaded something in there that gives every recipient a unique code. That code will need to be scanned by security before they go into the conference room." Ben went around to the other side of his desk and sat down in his chair. "You're sure that's necessary?" "Necessary? No... but it's good for security," Tyler said. He added a certain sultry tint to his voice and slid his skirted behind atop Ben's desk. He kept his knees together as his feet dangled. "If nothing else, it'll make all the investors feel safe. I'm sure they expect a certain level of security any time they attend an event like yours." "Probably," said Ben. Tyler navigated on his phone for a moment, crossing his legs as he worked. Ben watched the leg-crossing motion with high interest... which is what Tyler hoped he would do. "There," Tyler said. "I just sent it over to you. Send that to your guest list and I'll have the security outfit take care of the rest." Ben tapped around on his desk computer. "Got it." "Good. I'll make myself useful while you send that out." Tyler eased himself off the desk, landing daintily on his high heels. He knew what he wanted to do next... what he'd been planning on doing since earlier in the condo when he was getting dressed. He had an idea in his head, something he'd learned about - and fantasized about - when watching porn as a teenager. He would be on the giving end instead of the receiving end of the fantasy, though... but that didn't bother him. Rather, it excited him. While Ben busied himself on his computer, Tyler went to the office door and locked it. He came back to the rear of the office and squeezed himself between Ben and the desk. Ben looked up from his chair. "What are you doing?" "Making myself useful," Tyler said. He bit his lower lip for a couple seconds. "Pardon me." Tyler pushed Ben's chair back half a foot, then knelt on the ground. Tyler then scooted backward into the leg-space under the desk, until his heels hit the backboard and he could go no further. He was now surrounded by Ben's desk - above, behind, and on both sides. He waited there, on hands and stocking-covered knees, looking up expectantly at Ben. Tyler licked his lips to make his intentions more obvious. Ben smirked, picking up on Tyler's hint, and rolled his chair forward, inch by inch. Soon Ben's knees were under the desk... and his inner thighs were on either side of Tyler's ears. Ben moved forward on his chair until he was, quite literally, on the edge of his seat. Tyler, with his face only a few inches from Ben's pants zipper, looked up and grinned mischeviously. "Get to work," Tyler said, placing his immaculately manicured hands on Ben's legs. "Yes, ma'am," Ben said enthusiastically. The flesh behind his pants was already beginning to bulge. He began tapping away on his computer, pretending to ignore what was happening under his desk. Tyler's hands reached Ben's belt, and his fingers worked slowly at undoing it. He eased the leather out of the buckle, then gingerly unbuttoned the pants... and then slowly, so slowly and teasingly, lowered the zipper. Ben's breathing gained tempo as Tyler gripped Ben's pants on either side of his hips and pulled downward. He then brought his hands forward to the front of Ben's boxer shorts, feeling the length and firmness of the meat underneath. Ben blew out through pursed lips as Tyler traced his diamond-studded fingernails across Ben's penis. "Keep working," Tyler ordered. Ben swallowed and tried to obey as Tyler lowered the boxer shorts, exposing Ben's groin to open air. Ben's cock sprang upward. His balls hung heavily in his scrotum, dangling over the edge of the chair. Tyler giggled at the motions of the dick in front of his face, then ran a fingertip from the bottom of Ben's nutsack to the top of the glans, which was already glistening with pre-come. He looked up at Ben and made eye contact... then lowered his head, stuck out his tongue, and licked Ben's shaft from base to tip. "Oh, god," Ben moaned, as Tyler opened up and took the tip of Ben's cock into his mouth. This had been Tyler's teenage fantasy - the important boss working away on his computer, while the subserviant secretary catered to her boss' fleshly desires from underneath the desk. Tyler had even dressed for the occasion - professional skirt suit, high heels, office-appropriate makeup, and even a new pair of pantyhose. It felt perfect. Tyler swirled his tongue around Ben's glans for a couple minutes before accepting more of Ben's hardened dick into his mouth, massaging the underside with his tongue. He tasted the sweat and smelled the musk of Ben's nether region as he brought a hand up to fondle Ben's balls. Eventually Tyler could take no more of Ben's length without gagging, not out of reluctance, but because Ben was simply too well-hung for Tyler to accommodate him fully. So he started pistoning his head up and down on Ben's shaft, leaving streaks of saliva every time he pulled away. Ben squirmed in his seat. "I'm almost done," he said through rapid breaths. Tyler eased his mouth off Ben's cock. "Okay," Tyler said, grasping the lower part of Ben's shaft in one hand while gently caressing Ben's balls with the other. Tyler began licking and kissing Ben's dick, making a point of leaving plenty of lipstick marks. "I'm close," Ben said, and Tyler knew he wasn't talking about the email he was sending. Tyler once again put his entire mouth over Ben's glans and earnestly sucked, taking as much of Ben's meat as his throat would allow. Suddenly Ben tensed, gripped the armrests on his chair, and let out a ragged breath. The world paused for a split second before the first spurt of salty-sweet jizz splashed against the roof of Tyler's mouth. He maintained a tight seal with his lips as more and more of Ben's spunk pooled on his tongue. Tyler closed his eyes and tried to imagine what this looked like from Ben's point of view, which excited him slightly... however, when he stayed in the moment and recognized himself as Violet Taylor, the fantastically attractive auburn-haired girl on the floor with a big cock in her mouth, his arousal grew tremendously. He could feel his pussy moistening as Ben's cock ended its spasms. Tyler opened his eyes again, looked right at Ben, and swallowed the mouthful of semen with a wet gulping sound, all with Ben's cockhead still between his lips. He let the tip of his tongue dance across Ben's urethra for a couple seconds before letting go. Ben's cock softened, drooping heavily over the edge of the chair, and Ben himself leaned his head over the back of his chair staring at the ceiling in amazed disbelief. Tyler straightened his posture and put his hands on his nylon-wrapped knees while Ben recovered. "Yum," Tyler said from under the desk, and he absolutely meant it. Ben's load wasn't the tastiest thing Tyler had ever consumed, but it wasn't half bad. None of it had been bad. The blowjob Tyler had just performed was surprisingly fun... entirely unlike his experience in Ozzie's office back on Saturn Beta, which had been miserable and humiliating. This time, with Ben, had been anticipated, enthusiastic... even empowering, somehow. The fact that Ben hadn't forced the issue made Tyler feel in control and dominant, despite the fact that he had been in a submissive position with a dick in his mouth. Ben gathered himself and sat up straight. "Wheatgrass," he said, gasping. "And pineapple. Makes semen sweeter, allegedly." "Definitely," Tyler said as the flavor of Ben's come lingered in his mouth. He gently pushed Ben's chair back and clambered out from under the desk. Ben stood to greet Tyler while pulling up the boxer shorts and slacks that had puddled around his ankles. "That..." Ben said, trying to find the right words. "That was... unexpected. Not to mention really, really amazing." "I aim to please," Tyler said, leaning forward for a quick kiss. "You sent the email out?" "Oh, uh... almost. I got a little... distracted there for a few minutes. Hang on." Ben fastened his belt together and tapped out a couple strokes on his computer. "Done," he said as the email went on its merry way to all of Saturday night's guests. He put his hands on his hips and looked at the clock mounted on the opposite wall. "I don't suppose you'd like to join me for lunch." "Only if you're buying," Tyler said with a wink. He went around Ben's desk and retrieved his purse. "I know a place. It has great appetizers." "Sounds good to me." Ben smirked. "Well, not to criticize your eating habits, but you've already had an appetizer." Tyler playfully whacked Ben with his purse. "Jesus. You're as classy as ever." "Poop jokes and sexual innuendo. That's me." Ben chuckled, wrapped an arm around Tyler's waist, and pulled in for another kiss. "And I can be highbrow whenever I want. You know that." "I do," Tyler replied. "You still need to work on your manners, though. Let's start by you opening your office door for me. Ben did as he was instructed, and Tyler walked triumphantly out of the office. He was very satisfied with how his trip to Ben's office had gone. He had done what he came to do... in every sense of the word.