Dear Valued Reader
This is the first part of a series that I will be continuing over the next several weeks, I will be posting the first chapter of two others over the next while and would like your opinion as to which I should continue first. Please relay your opinion to me via the comments section or IM. As usual I apologise for any spelling mistakes present as English is not my first language and, as anyone who has had to learn it would know, it can be a real bitch at time. I appreciate any feedback on my work, minus those of your who just want to bitch at us writers for the sake of bitching, and look forward to any comments you wish to leave. Please like this story please have a look at some of my other posts.
Your Sincerely
Doran C. Walker
P.S. I am always looking for new inspiration.
Its Not A Trick Chapter One: Sex, Drugs, Lies and Money.
My names Timothy Brunswick, but everyone calls me ‘Timmy’. I know what your thinking, the handicapped kid in south park whose always screaming his own name, or else the wizard out of Monty Pythons Quest for the Holy Grail. Well let me just say that I’m nothing like either of them, truth be told I’m actually about as ordinary as you can get, the kind of guy you can walk past on the street and not even notice it. For along time I thought that that was the reason for it, the way people always seem to look right through me even if I was standing right in form of them. I was pretty wrong about that one, I only wished I’d figured it out earlier.
It was about two years or so after I’d finished high school and I was working in an office at the time. It was sort of an accounting job for one of those big companies that seems to have its fingers in every pie, but for now all you really need to know is that I spent my days typing out forms and reports on a computer, sitting in a tiny little cubical surrounded by hundreds of other identical tiny little cubicles. Sometimes I wondered if I had actually died and that this was actually some kind of purgatory, but most days I just tried to get though without stabbing one of the pricks I worked with who, in my defence, probably would have deserved it.
Anyway it all started one day when I was delivering some stuff to my boss (or one of them that is). Nothing major just a bunch of files, papers and other general crap that I tried to avoid, however there was a rumour going around that a promotion was coming up in our department, we’re talking pay raise, expense account and an actual office. Not that I expected to get it but I figured I could stand to make my presence felt a little more.
I knocked on the door and walked in, the boss was sitting at his desk writing down something or other and trying to look as important as he could. I closed the door behind me and waited patiently for him to finish what he was doing, but as the seconds dragged on into minutes he didn’t even look up at me, let alone ask what I was doing there. I sighed through my nostrils, nothing out of the ordinary, but he boss looked up towards the door, straight at me, then shrugged and went back to work. I rolled my eyes and looked down at the phonebook sized bundle of papers in my hand, wondering just how much trouble I’d get into for smacking the ignorant bastard up the side of the head with it. That’s when I noticed my hands, or more be it lack there of. I mean I could literally read the title of the top folder in my hand through my hand, my cloths were there, but looked more as if I was watching the through smoked glass, all hazy and out of focus.
Needless to say I jumped about a foot in the air, let out a yelp of surprise and promptly dropped the folders in a heap on the floor. The boss had a similar reaction, though given the fact that that he had not just seen through his own body he was much quicker to recover and scold me like so many of my high school teachers. I muttered some excuses and left as quickly as I could, keeping my head down and heading back to my cubical.
I sat and breathed deeply as I could all the while wishing that I had a bottle of scotch in the desk draw. I’ll admit that it took me a few minutes to completely compose myself and really start to get my head around what it was that had just happened. I had seen through my self, not just me but my cloths as well, like, I don’t know, like the world around just me was fading. I looked at my hand a focused on it, I mean really focused, like I’d never actually seen it before. I breathed deep, trying to calm down as much as I could and remember the feeling the of standing in that office. Then slowly, like watching a time-lapse video of ice melting the tips of my fingers started to fade. The didn’t get much past the nails seeing as how I freaked out again and the effect snapped back leaving me totally visible again.
I kept trying all morning, completely neglecting my workload, not exactly a smart move but when you start seeing through your own body everything else kind of takes a back seat. By around about lunch time I had successfully succeeded in making my body transparent, but something kept nagging in to back of my head: was this something I had always been able to do, or was this something new to me?
Everyone else was getting up to go to lunch so I decided that this would be the perfect time to try out my new ability, seeing as how the office was nearly empty and if something went wrong then I wouldn’t magically appear in front of a bunch of my workmates. I got up, slowly at first and looked down at myself, it was as if I was a set of eye balls floating in mid air, but now that I was standing in the full light of the office I could see a faint, almost ghost like out line of myself. I hurried over to one of the full-length window that separated the offices from the cubicles and stared into the tinted glass. Nothing, I could see no outline in the reflection, but when I held up my arm I saw the faint shape of my arm and the sleave of my shirt.
“Must be something only I can see,” I muttered to myself. An employ was walking along behind me at the time and he stopped dead in his tracks, cocking his head to the side as if listening like a dog would. Eventually he shrugged and kept moving down the row and out of sight.
I set off on my invisible tour of the workplace, all the while keeping an eye on my self to make sure I didn’t suddenly reappear. I saw people eating at their desks, some playing cards, some even sipping from hidden flasks in their draws. As I was walking alone on of the aisles I saw Nancy come walking towards me. Nancy was one of the few good thing about working here, even thought she was married she still acted friendly to everyone, even a little flirty at time. She was slim, blond with big hazel eyes, long sexy legs, at least C-cup sized breasts and one of those tight little asses that you just wanted to spank for hours on end. ‘Well’ I thought to myself, ‘if I was even going to have a chance…’ As she walked past I raised on hand and slapped he hard across her left cheek, he ass was just as firm as I had imagined and the tight office skirt she wore showed no sighs of rippling flesh. She threw her hips forward and reached out to grab he own ass while turning to glare at the perpetrator, however he glare turned to a look of confusion as she saw straight through me. She stood for a moment the cautiously moved off down along the office and out of sight.
I wandered around for a bit, poking my head into offices and into cubicles, it is amazing what people get up to when they think no ones around. I saw Katie trying to kill a bottle of bourbon before lunch, and by the looks of it she was succeeding; Mr Chapmen, the boss I’d gone to see earlier, was snorting some kind of white power of his desk. To top it all I stuck my invisible head into the office of our floor manager Mr Paix, a fifty something guy who acted like he thought he belonged in the Playboy mansion. But considering that at the time he had his nineteen year old assistant bent over the desk and was fucking her so hard I was surprised people couldn’t hear it in the basement, well, maybe his act was somewhat justified.
Lunch break was about five minutes or so from being over so I was about to head back to my desk when I got an idea and quickly changed direction. In the back corner of the massive white void that is my workplace there were two small doors, I decided to do what every school boy has thought about doing for years and with only a moments hesitation I entered the women’s bathroom.
It was much the same as the men’s room, a few more toilet cubicles and no urinals (obviously), but the biggest difference was the smell, while the men’s room smelled mostly like, well, you know, the ladies room smelt very strongly of perfume and deodorant and something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I was about to leave when something caught my eye, underneath the last stall I could see a pair of high heal shoes just sitting there, no feet in them at all. Curious about this I entered the adjacent stall, climbed up onto the toilet seat and peaked over.
It was Nancy, she was sitting on the toilet, shoes off, skirt hitched up so high enough to see she wasn’t wearing and panties and was finger fucking herself at a pace I had never before believed possible. Her stockings framed he legs beautifully and I saw one hand rubbing her clit with the thumb and fingers sliding in and out of her pussy as a fantastic speed. The other hand was up fondling her tits through her open shirt, pinching her areolas and making her nipples stick out like erasers on a pencil. In her mouth she had something that looked a piece of rubber pipe and was biting down on it hard enough to nearly fold it in half. Non-the-less I could still hear her muffled moans and groans which led me to believe that without he makeshift gag she would have been making on hell of a racked. He hips were starting to buck furiously and suddenly her eye flew open and stared straight up at me, I had to remind my self that I was invisible and that this was totally coincidence. As a long low growling sound escaped past her mouth guard her big hazel eyes rolled back in the head like she was possessed and he whole body froze solid, minus the slight twitch every second or so like she was being slightly electrocuted.
It took about a minute for her to come down from what had to be a mind-blowing orgasm but eventually she composed herself enough to stand up, straighten out her cloths and walk out in to the office as if nothing had happened. I followed her, my pecker about ready to rip through the seem of my trouser. I sat down at my desk slowly reappearing to the rest of the world and thinking hard on what this could mean to me. I started to do some of the work I had so far been neglecting but it was hard to stay focused when wondrous possibilities kept exploding into my mind. I spent most of the rest of the day trying in vain to catch up with my workload and by the time five o’clock came I had formulated a plan as to what my first great act as the invisible man would be.
I got home to my little apartment, it was nothing spatular, two small bedrooms, kitchen dining room and lounge all sort of rolled into one and a small bathroom laundry set. It was cheap as chips to rent this close to work and even though I had to climb five flights of stairs to get there the small balcony had the most amazing views of the city and I had spent many nights out there sipping beer and staring out over the lights, but not tonight.
I showered, changed and spent a few hours practising my new ability. I deduced that it was not my own skin that was changing, but rather a sort of field around me, which is why my cloths were invisible as well. I tried a few times to make other things I was touching disappear but I didn’t work so well. I did manage to make a DVD disc become somewhat transparent but it was still clearly visible. I figured that it would take a bit more practice before I would be able to do it properly but I was in no real rush. Before I knew it nine o’clock had rolled around and it was time to go out and have some fun.
Thursday nights where I live are surprisingly busy for the night life, lots of students looking to blow off class the next day, lots of people just having paid, lots of us just needing a few drinks to help us get through Friday. I didn’t usually go out Thursday, but I was to eager to wait for the weekend and besides for once I wasn’t just planning to get drunk. Being a pretty average guy I never really got a lot of action from the ladies; I’m not funny, not violent, not particularly good looking or extremely well endowed. All this means that it is very rare for me to pick up a girl for a one nighter, no matter how hard I try. I made a beeline for a particular pub call the Royal, since a disagreement with a bouncer there (the disagreement being that he thought he wasn’t a dickhead and me not agreeing) I had been unable to get in there for over a year now, talk about holding a grudge. Despite the ridicules security there it was still a great place to hang out and the line for the door was usually a half a block long.
I went invisible a few blocks from the pub and causally walked up to the door. As usual there was a massive wait to get in but I just slipped past the security guards, resisting the urge to give them both a swift kick in the nads, and strolled through the from door. Though it was barely nine-thirty the place was packed, music blaring while people tried and failed to dance, alcohol flowing and all manner of stupid behaviour taking place.
I was about to de-cloak and order a drink when I realised that the same rules didn’t really apply to me here. I ducked behind the counter and waited till the cash register at the far end of the bar was not being used. After a few minutes of systematically pushing buttons the draw gently slid out revealing a small fortune in notes, seeing as how it was pay day (and dole day) there were plenty of fifty’s and hundreds that I helped myself too, thinking that with a place this big it wasn’t going to be missed and that it kind of acted as compensation for the way I had been treated by this establishment. The notes wrapped up in my fist I quickly swiped a can of bourbon and cola from the fridge; at any other time a can of drink floating along at waist hight may have seemed weird but every one was to preoccupied to notice or care. I de-cloaked and made my way through the crowd to a spare seat in the corner, it took about an hour for the night to really get into full swing and I was content to sip my drink and wait for and opportunity to present itself.
After a while I saw a group of girls sitting alone in the corner opposite me, they were dressed mostly in black with chains, pendants, dyed hair, black lipstick and eyeliner, in other words the were Goth and making sure everyone knew it. I went invisible and made my way over to them; it is surprisingly harder to make your way through a crowed room when no one can see you but infinitely more fun as you can grab any piece of ass that moves your way and not worry about belted for your efforts. I slid up the wall next to them and tried to eves dropped in on their conversation, there were about five of them, ranging in size from anorexic skinny to morbidly obese, big tits and flat chests, tight jeans and long flowing dresses. However one thing that they all seemed to have in common was that they weren’t just dressed as Goths, they were true believers. It was hard to hear everything they were saying, even when I stuck by head halfway into the circle (you know how it is when the music is blaring and everyone’s talking at once you pretty much have to scream in someone’s ear to get their attention), however despite this I caught words like ‘demons’, ‘the masters’, ‘must serve’ and so on. After having been drinking for so long it didn’t take much time for one girls to get up to go to the bathroom. I heard one of the shout something at her and figured that her name was Amy. She was about medium hight with long straight black hair that seemed a little fluffy and pierced nose and lips, she was adorn with cheap metal looking jewellery and black top that was so bleeding tight that it did wonders to help exaggerate her nice handful sized boobs. However it was her ass that really caught my attention; she was wearing tight black fake leather pants that clung to her heart shaped butt like cling wrap. I watched her walk towards the ladies room swing her hips a little more then might have been completely necessary and after a brief seconds hesitation (the taboo of a man entering and women’s bathroom is pretty deeply programmed) followed her in.
The smell hit me in the face like a bloody sledgehammer; it was like every smell guy love about girls (hairspray, perfume, deodorant,) but all at once and a thousand times stronger then it was ever meant to be, talk about too much of a good thing. There were only two other girls in there at the time and Amy went straight into one of the stalls, it only took a few seconds for the other girls to finish doing, well, what ever it was that they were doing before meandering back out into the disco. As soon as they were gone I locked the door behind them then wondered best about how to approach the situation. I went over, still cloaked, and turned on the hot water taps for half the sinks, it didn’t take very long for the mirrors to fog up good and proper and I shut of the taps and waited.
When Amy walked out of the stall she didn’t even seem to notice the steam cover mirrors instead walking over to wash her hands all proper and lady like. I crept up behind her, forgetting that I didn’t really need to creep, and whispered softly next to her ear “Amy”.
She jerked around in surprise, expecting to see someone there but finding only and empty room. While she was looking around I slunk forward and wrote her name on the fogged mirror in front of her. When she turned back she let out a small squeak of surprise and again began to look around, not so much fearfully, almost hopefully.
“Who’s there?” she whispered, her voice trembling with fear and, perhaps even, anticipation.
“You know who it is,” I replied in a deep throaty voice, not quite knowing what else to say.
At this her eyes lit up like Christmas had just come early, her hands flew to her mouth and she seemed barely able to contain her excitement.
“Master,” she murmured so quite I had to strain to hear it.
“Yes, it is I,” I replied, trying to sound like some kind of demon demigod. “Fall to your knees my servant.” She didn’t even question what was happening; in fact she seemed to be positively ecstatic as she dropped to her knees and looked down in the perfect picture of submission.
I quickly undid my jeans and pulled out my already hardening cock, like I said I’m not particularly huge, seven inches maybe seven and a half on a good day and this was a good day. I stroked myself to full hardness while Amy just knelt there on the tile floor seeming too scared to move. When I was at full mast I moved forward and grabbed her hair, lifting her face up so that he mouth was level with my todger. I pushed the head against her lips and instinctively she opened her mouth and I slid in my whole pecker till I brushed against the back of her throat.
“Suck,” I commanded and with no further encouragement needed she began to blow my dick with a vigour that I had never before imagined. Considering that she couldn’t see what it was that she was sucking she was doing a bloody incredible job, without needing to be told she reached up and started to work the rest of my shaft as her mouth wrapped around the invisible head of my cock. She was blowing me so hard that I was worried about her sucking my nuts out through the eye of my cock but god did it feel good.
After about two minutes of this I was on the verge of shooting my load but I didn’t want to cum just yet. I threaded my fingers through her hair and pulled her up until I was staring into her deep brown eyes, then without warning I swung her around and bent her over the sink. She must have known shat I was planning and quickly reached up and undid her pants, sliding them down to her knees and giving a world class view of a world class ass. I reached out and grabbed two handfuls of he backside and slid my cock up and down her crack, feeling the heat emanating from her pussy and listening with intent as she groaned at the sensation of having something invisible grope her. Then without warning I shoved my dick all the way up inside her pussy; she let out a high-pitched scream that reverberated off the wall and I was sure everyone would have heard.
I started pumping in and out of her, with her pants around her knees she was having trouble keeping her balance and leaned forward almost lying down across the sink. I suspect it would have looked really to anybody walking in at that precise moment, a chick her pants around her ankles, bent over a sink squealing like a stuck pig was not something one saw every day.
“Yes master!” she cried, reaching up to squeeze and twist her nipples “Fill me with you seed! Make me cum, make me..ahhh-ahhhh-AHHHHHHH!” the combination of her pussy clamping down on my manhood and the sight of her face contorting in the mirror was all I needed to send me over the edge. My balls contracted and I shot my full load deep inside her. We both climaxed for a good minute before I finally pulled my cock out of her and stepped back. I felt I couldn’t leave her there like this, but there wasn’t all that much I could do. I just stepped back into the corner of the room and watched her, to make sure she was all right you know? She was still lying over the sink, breathing heavily, but after a bit she finally composed her self and stood up, looking around at, what must have appeared to her as, a completely empty bathroom. She did up her trousers, seemingly oblivious to the cum running down her leg and started looking for the perpetrator. She searched through all the stalls and came with in mere inches of me a few time before finally giving up. She smiled to herself and looked down, rubbing her belly and seemingly very pleased with her self. I followed her out of the restroom, by now the night was in full swing and I decided to head home, however I too was feeling quite pleased with myself, and as I trudged along the dark streets towards my place I started marvelling at this big new world that was just now beginning to open up to me.
The next day at the office I tried to catch up on the work I had neglected the previous afternoon. Doing an extra half a days work on a Friday may seem impossible, but I was feeling refreshed and energetic, that kind of prolonged high you get when you’ve been recently laid (even though my activities the previous night had involved more ‘standing’ then ‘laying’). I was ploughing though my work load at what even I though to be a surprising rate, not so much catching up but just making sure that I wasn’t so far behind that I would get chewed out for it at the end of the week.
I was getting ready to knock off for lunch when a familiar voice shouted “Timmy” and an equally annoying head popped over the side of my cubical, both the head and voice belong to non other then Samuel White. You know that guy, lets face it we all know one, who seems to have things just that little better that everyone else? Well that’s Sam. Now don’t get me wrong, if someone had worked hard and gotten ahead I life then, hey, good for them, I myself try not to prescribe to ‘tall poppy syndrome’. However in this case it wasn’t so much the fact that he had a better hand in life, i.e. slightly better job, surprisingly more money, flash car, nicer house, well behaved kids and total knock out of a wife, it was the fact that he insisted on making sure that anyone who knew him longer that five minutes knew about it. Truth be told I did almost feel sorry for him, you see the main reason that he got so far ahead in work, he was actually pegged for the promotion I mentioned earlier, was because he insisted on taking exuberant amounts of work home with him; I kind of figured that this meant he had almost no social life what so ever.
“How are things, Timmy?” he said, exaggerating my name like that handicapped kid from South Park.
“Oh, you know, still working hard,” I replied, hopping if I showed I wasn’t interested he would get the hint and leave.
“Corse you are,” he said “Any big plans for the weekend?”
In the wake of my new discovery I had completely forgotten that today was Friday and we were on the verge of the weekend.
“Nothing in particular,” I replied, still not looking away from my computer and hoping to see him leave out of the corner of my eye.
“Me and the misses are heading out to the coast for a few days,” said Sam. ‘Great’; I thought ‘another little speech about his great life’. “Yeah,” he continued without any real invite from me. “Its nothing special, just a little weekend getaway for us, a bit of ‘alone time’ if you know what I mean.”
Despite my obvious lack of interest he kept on talking about his plans for the weekend as if everyone should be so lucky as to be him. To be honest I don’t think he actually wanted me to hear him, which is good because I wasn’t listening, but seeing as how my cubical was closer to the middle of the office it meant that everything he said could be heard by all. Typical Sam, it wasn’t just enough that he had it good, but he had to make sure that everyone knew it.
After about ten minutes of his carrying on he finally seemed to think that we’d all gotten the picture and skulked off back to his cubical at the end of the row. Everyone else was once again taking off for lunch but seeing as how I was still playing catch-up with my work I opted to just sit at my desk and munch on a bag of chips while I kept working. It wasn’t that long before the office was all but empty and silent apart from the sound of typing and other muffled noises that after yesterday I could now take educated guess at.
As I sat typing out a form to do with some pharmaceuticals the company was shipping I saw dear sweet Nancy walking past my desk all by her self. Remembering, in technicolour, the events of the previous day I decided to follow her, thinking that I would get a decent peep show at the best. I disappeared, as I had now come to think of it, and moved out of my cubical to follow in her perfumed wake.
However this time she didn’t go into the bathroom to jill off as I had thought, instead I followed her along the rows for a while, winding our way through the never-ending forest of cubicle’s. Eventually however we came to one of the walls along which were spaced along at even intervals. Without pausing for even a moment she swung left, me still in hot pursuit, and moved at a brisk pace down the wall until she reached what seemed to be a totally arbitrary door. I had always assumed that theses doors lead into nothing more then simple storage cupboards, I knew, having been into more then a few of them before. Nancy slipped into through the door without so much as a whisper almost as unseen and unheard as I was.
I walked up and placed my ear to the door, hearing muffled voice and giggles from inside I decided that this was not just Nancy in there on her own. I figured that I might be able to catch her fooling around with one of the office seniors, you know, just for a laugh, so I pushed open the door (which was a lot thicker then I though it was) and let myself in; but what I saw was kind of the opposite of what I hand been expecting.
The room was a bit larger then most of the others one and, from the looks of the machines, I recon it was used to store some of the heavier equipment. But that was not what I saw first instead my attention was drawn too Nancy, who was standing side on to the doorway, stripped down to her skirt, her firm breasts mashed up against the still clad form of a woman I did not immediately recognise. Once my eyes had adjusted to the dark I saw the ebony brown skin, curly black hair and thick curvaceous body, not fat or anything, more as if god had just given her a little bit ‘more’ then most girls. It was not however on of the brass or even one of the office workers like myself. Instead it was Josie, one of the cleaners; she was quite and usually seemed to keep to her self but was still happy to help anyone who needed it.
“God I missed you so much yesterday,” groaned Nancy as Josie cupped her ass and playfully bit into her neck.
“Sorry, I could get away,” whispered Josie, now pulling down her own skirt and stepping out of it.
“Don’t worry too much about it,” sighed Nancy as her friend’s hand slipped inside her trousers and started massaging her ass. “I managed to take care of myself in the ladies room.”
“My god,” moaned Josie, reaching up and grabbing Nancy’s shoulders “that is so hot!” And with that she pushed her lover back onto the bench and started ripping off her trousers.
Unable to resist due to the sceptical before me I undid my trousers and began stroking my rapidly hardening cock. Josie yanked off Nancy’s trousers and dove face first into her snatch. She must have been quite an expert carpet licker because her lover was instantly moaning and grinding into her face. Her legs lifted up and wrapped around Josie’s head, forcing her deeper into her muff while her hands began rubbing her own tits, twisting her nipples around until it looked like she was going to rip then off.
“That’s it!” she yelped all of a sudden “Right there! That’s it! That’s it! That’s it! That’s OH GOD! FUCK! FUCK, AHHHHH!” her body shook and she threw her head back, letting loose a scream that had to have been heard half a state away. Josie didn’t stop licking through her orgasm and I saw that it was probably too much for Nancy to bear. She soon let go of her boobs and reached down, dragging Josie by the ears up to her face and passionately kissing her, licking her own cum off her face and shaking from her orgasm. As they pashed Josie lifted her leg up and over Nancy’s thigh so the she was effectively ‘sitting’ on her leg. Without breaking the kiss she began to grind herself back and forth of Nancy's leg. I moved a few steps closer, still stroking my now raging hard-on, till I could see their pussy’s rubbing back and forward on each other.
Their kissing became heavier as Nancy lifted her hips up to meet her lovers dripping snatch. Their hands were around each other’s backs, each trying desperately to pull the other closer. Nancy broke the kiss, lowering her head to her friend’s ample bust and began lightly licking the tip of her nipples. This teasing only seemed to drive her even wilder.
“Oh fuck yeah!” groaned Josie in a deep, husky voice, forcing her chest down Nancy's face. “Make me cum babe. Make me cum!”
Her thrusts were now coming in short sharp bursts and I heard Nancy, half suffocated by this point, breathing deeply into her chest.
“AH-AH-AHHHHH, I’m cumming,” screamed Josie, throwing her his forward into Nancy's so hard it really should have put her through the wall. “I’m cumming! OH, GOD, FUCKKKKKKK!”
The sight of the two of them thrashing around had to be the hottest thing I have even seen in real life. With a few final tugs I shot my load all over the floor next to them. As my cum flew through the air it slowly turned visible and splattered on the carpet right at the girls feet. They however were too engorged in each other to notice. With Josie still sitting on Nancy's lap the two of them were passionately kissing as before, holding each other close the way lovers do.
After a moment or so they disentangled and began getting dressed and straightening themselves up.
“Good god, what would I do without you?” asked Nancy, glancing over at Josie as she button up her blouse.
“Probably take care of yourself three of four times a day?” she replied, pulling her head back behind her head.
“Lord knows my husband doesn’t,” sighed Nancy, slipping on her high heals. “Do you know it’s been two year this week since he last fucked me? And nearly a year since he even kissed me.”
“Well,” said Josie, standing one her toes a little to kiss her lover on the cheek. “You’ve still got me.”
“Yeah,” smiled Nancy “But I don’t get to see you till next week.”
“Don’t worry,” Josie grinned “I’ve got a little something special for you on Monday.”
With that the two of them snuck out of the closet, one a few minutes behind the other, leaving me to follow in their wake, probably looking just as forward to Monday as they were.
It was getting pretty close to quitting time and, despite my adventures over the day, I was almost caught up on my workload. It’s amazing what a life-altering discovery can do for you motivation. I grabbed my bag and was about to leave but had to wait for Sam to bustle past the entrance to my cubical, loaded down with enough papers that by all rights he should have needed a bag trolley.
‘Hold up a minute,’ I thought to my self. ‘What about his romantic weekend getaway with his wife he was on about earlier?’ my first thought was that he had been bull-shitting about the whole thing and that I might be able to get one up on him come Monday. But then I got to thinking about how I had never actually seen this rare beauty of a wife he was supposed to have. She never came out to any of the office parties, not even so much as a picture on his desk of her despite the fact he often told us all the story of how she had been a ‘Miss Australia’ contestant once. I decided to see her for myself and solve the mystery Sam’s massive workload.
I stuffed my workbag under my desk, took a quick look around to make sure no body was watching and cloaked. I silently began to dog Sam’s movements, staying far enough behind him that I wouldn’t run into him if he stopped. We walked down the stairs to the parking lot and across to his car; while I, like a lot of my workmates, drove a cheap car, an old 96’ Commodore in my case, Sam walked over and pulled out a set of keys to a big black Mercedes that looked like it had just rolled off the lot. Knowing him he must have mentioned it at some point but I’d probably been zoned out when he had.
The central locking had opened all the doors, so all I had to do was wait until he opened the boot to put in his mountain of work and quietly slip into the back seat. It was kinda cool sitting in the back of this big expensive car, hell, as Sam climbed in and started the engine I had to fight the urge to say “Just out to the estate today, Bittermen.”
We drove for about a half and hour, stopping in traffic congestion with some old David Bowie blaring out the speakers and me keeping up my concentration on not suddenly appearing. In truth I was getting better at this, it didn’t seem to take as much concentration to hold my appearance, however I still had to think about it a little or risk materialising and giving Sam a heart attack at 70 kph.
We finally turned off the highway and into the suburbs, not the kind laid out in a grid, more the never-ending twist and turns of colder and erratic swoops, you know, the more expensive kind. We pulled up the driveway of a two-story house with a three-car garage, most of the lights were on but the entire place was totally silent. I knew he had a family and even thought it had just gotten dark there was no was no way that they were all asleep yet, so why was it so quiet?
I slipped out while Sam was unloading his boot and stood on the immaculately kept front lawn. He took a while to get all the boxes of files and folders out of his car, night had properly fallen and a chilly breeze had kicked up by the time he walked up the path to the house. He rang the doorbell; obviously unable to reach his keys, and a few moments later it was answered by what had to be the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. As we went inside I had to pause to properly take her in. she was tall, probably just over six feet easily, with a perfect hourglass shaped figure, board hips, slim waist and breasts that were at the same time large a firm. Her auburn hair cascaded over he shoulders to perfectly frame her high cheek bones, full lips and big Bambi eyes that seemed almost, some what, resigned, like she didn’t really have a hope in the world anymore, it was the only bad thing about her appearance. She had to be Sam’s wife (the way he had described her didn’t do her justices) however she didn’t act like it. There was not ‘Hi honey, I’m home’ no peck on the cheek or any of the other stuff I had expected from a happy suburban family.
They walked down the hallway, over lust carpet and past expensive looking pictures lit by soft mood lighting, me watching her arse seductively sway back and forth with every step. Eventually, after passing a staircase, extravagant lounge room and an inside bar, we arrived at what looked like a conference room. Sitting at the far end of the table, surrounded by piles of papers, were two teenagers, a young boy of about fourteen and a young girl who looked about eighteen. They had to be their kids, even on the street I would have know this, for they were both carbon copy’s of the their parental counterparts.
I edged along the wall opposite Sam as h dumped the boxes on the table in front of his two kids. Both of them looked up as if they wanted complain but didn’t think it was a good idea.
“Right you two,” said Sam, more like an employer then a farther. “Your mother and I are going away for the week end. I expect all this to be finished by the time I get back on Sunday night. And none of the shitty hand writing like last time.”
“Yes sir,” replied the children in unison. Now my family and me are never going to win the ‘Family of the Year’ award, but I did refer to them as ‘Mum’ and ‘Dad’, not ‘Sir’ and ‘Madam’.
“Where’s Nicole?” asked Sam to no one in particular.
“Downstairs, Sir.” replied his son with military precision.
“Right,” he said, turning to his wife “I’m gonna go check on her then we’re leaving.” Mrs White simply nodded and walked off towards the stairs.
“Remember you two,” Sam shot back at his kids “finish that lot by Sunday night or god help you.” He didn’t even wait for a reply just hurried off to the other end of the room and disappeared through a narrow door, me in hot pursuit.
As we descended the dark stairway my mind was racing so I didn’t imminently notice the smell that filled the air. It was an archaic flavour, like when you’ve left a pot on the stove too long and the heat was like walking into a bleeding oven. Finally we passed through a second door and I found myself in what looked like Frankenstein’s holiday home.
The walls and floor were all bare concrete and the harsh fluorescent bulbs hung from the ceiling. The walls were lined counters and a long bench ran down the centre of the room. Every possible surface was covered with beakers, Bunsen burners, vastly coloured liquids, strange mechanical devices and piled against the far wall were about forty house brick blocks of white powder. The only occupant of the room was a young girl, about sixteen or so, with all of her mothers perfectly proportioned curves, better displayed by the cut back bikini she was wearing.
Sam went over and began talking adamantly with her but I wasn’t really listening, so absorbed was I buy these new revelation. So the great Samuel White was running a drug lab out of his basement, I didn’t need anyone to tell me that was what this was. What’s more he was having a couple of teenagers do all the extra work he was taking home for him.
With all this information I started wondering just what I could do with it, about what I could get out of it, about what else I would be able to make invisible with me. Perhaps, something like, I don’t know, say, a camera?
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