Whoever came up with "guys don’t make passes at girls, who wear glasses" was seriously stupid. Alex’s Managing Executive, Kara, wore hornrimmed eyeglasses; conservatively discreet clothes; and her dark hair smoothed back in a no frills chignon. She was "definitely (I felt like "Rainman" around her.), definitely" a rare, brown beauty; who was wholesome, yet unassumingly sultry and entirely failing to hide beneath the bland, professional façade, that I couldn’t believe was actually seeming to work on Alex—the most successful sexhound I’d ever known.

        I was visiting in his busy offices and catching up on the past year, while he was hooking up his new phone equipment himself. He’s a hands-on guy, even when he doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing.

        "Kara, Alex needs you."

        He’d changed.

        He’d admitted to me, that he hadn’t a clue what end of the wires went where, then sent me to call her. BUT—when her incredible ass brushed accidentally by and against him … he didn’t spoon her. He actually backed away a bit, as she took the cables and deftly switched the end connections, with an amused look for Alex, with the Scot black hair and clear blue eyes, before leaving.

        Women of Kara’s quality, never look at me that way. I’m "not hideous", as Sis says; but, I don’t turn heads or get them creaming their panties, just because I’m in their proximity.

        "She so wants you, man."

        "What?"

        Reading faces.

        When you go on cat crawls and bar hops with Alex, you get really good at reading faces. At first hating it, then later getting addicted to watching the faces too afraid to approach "the demigod", asking me tips about him. Oh, yeah. Put out, then I’ll inform you that I may take Alex’ leftovers; but, he never takes mine.

        On reading faces.

        Alex had gotten some brand new, subtle expressions for not showing his true feelings to people constantly falling all over him. But, here in his own private offices, he was too concise about his movements and tones of voice whenever Kara was around. Kara, who must be at the extreme top of his "to do" list; but, he wasn’t acting like it at all.

        "Kara wants you."

        "She’s my exec, Steve, my … employee technically, though I’m asking her to go partners. She’s brought in so much lucrative business with her innovations. Kara’s ... a friend. Very smart, exceptionally capable, absolutely indispensable. Did I say smart? And--."

        "Stunning. Seductively gorgeous."

        He was silent, then shrugged like that didn’t matter. Was this Alexander "The Horn", who’d always received thorough BJs, handjobs, or fucks from practically anyone he chose?

        "You’re not dating her?"

        "N-n-n-no."

        Nice; but, how the hell to get her to notice me, beyond common civility because I was in the room, was another matter altogether.

                * * * *

        Y’know, our minds can forget a gazillion things, then, at the most crucial, Lucifer illuminated moments, it’s there. The number of that cute, well, not so cute girl, who’ll do it for very little coaxing.

        Or Grandma’s monkey’s paw.

        Hideous thing! Gave me nightmares, as a child. Inherited it with a box of other "memorabilia". Gran’d sworn someone in the family’d gotten it from Poe, who’d written the story. Oh, yeah, I believed that. Although, it’s amazing how we don’t believe some things, until a desire for someone or something makes it highly desirable.

        Alex and I watched the new caller I.D. box; giving number, name, time of call; even for voicemail. Joy. Neato. Yawn. While he was proudly fascinated by his new toy, I was envisioning Kara’s legs, strong and well toned, viced around me.

        Long lunch with Alex. Pick info about Kara. More catch up. See yah again, soon. Home.

                * * * *

        Where’s that damned box of Gran’s? Monkey’s paw, monkey’s paw ... paw. Ugh! Still goddamned hideous!

        I grabbed the bony, black thing, then put it back and thought hard and long. I needed to be unambiguously, absolutely correct, and not mess up, like the geezers in the story. Heart pounding, I held it and silently wished the precise words I felt would work perfectly.

        Of course, typically, it picked then to storm. I waited. And, waited. Nothing. Nothing. For the better part of an hour. Fuck it. I went outside to watch God’s little nature show, and my own breath in the chilly, wet night.

        A car stopped abruptly, as it geared into park. Eventually, Kara stepped out, and slowly walked across the yard. No umbrella. No shoes. And, what I’d taken for a trenchcoat was a dark, thick bathrobe, soaked heavy with rain. Disbelieving my eyes, I stumbled off the porch to meet her. She came straight to me, and I removed her rainstreaked hornrims. Her magnificent eyes were scared, confused, and ... obstinate. You get ten novena, Gran. Thanks.

        "Come inside, Kara." She preceded me in.

        I locked the door, then walked around her. Beautiful, simply stunning—even drenched, pissed, and trembling violently. I reached for her robe; she tried to stop me.

        "No, Kara."

        She … let me, against the hard and futile resolve in her dark eyes….

[edit]

        How could Alex resist this?

        I stood behind her, removing the hair combs, before smoothing her thick, wet tresses. A trickle of rain coursed from her hair down her bare and perfect shade of tan spine into the delightful valley between her very round buttocks.

        I studied them and handled them, as I unzipped.

        I heard her tense, small, fearful sigh, which made me want her more, as I took my expanding heavy rod in hand and dragged him across those two superb mounds. She took two halting steps away rom me.

        "No, Kara. Stay."

        Gran had said, "Strongly willful people can resist," but only as far as my will AND the paw would allow. She said I should be "very careful with it" and with what I wanted, because prolonged exposure could weaken a person completely and enslave them to me.

        She'd also patted me on the cheek and proudly said she knew I didn't want to do that to anyone.

        Gran never ever understood the real me, and she'd certainly wouldn't get my wanting to enslave this beautiful woman, who belonged to my best friend, and make her my cock happy whore.

        Gran'd never understand that I really wanted this. I wanted his ... Alex' Kara.

        Kara stayed put, as I'd told her, as I kicked her robe out my way, away from her beautiful, naked body. Hm, wonder if she's virgin?....

        "I'll get you something of mine to wear, if you don't mind."

        Mind, mind, why would I mind?                                                                                                        

        I mutely nodded, as he showed me the bathroom.

        I'm not a shower person, but I was so cold, I stripped right away and jumped in.

        I also forgot the door was cracked open, he'd meant to come right back, but his phone rang. He talked, evidently on a cordless, as his voice moved room to room, while I rinsed off street crud and date makeup-he might as well see the real me, instead of rain smudged me.

        I was still a little chilled in the warm shower fog, then realized shutting out the door draft would help, when he bopped in with a robe for me; wearing only a change of boxer briefs. 

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