Caught In The Act

GIORDANO ACCOUNTING FIRM, CPA’S  
Financial District
Manhattan, New York  
 
Artesia looked down at Tristano’s business card, and then looked up at the address on the golden embedded plague above the glass door. She grabbed the brass handle and pushed the door open. She entered the ten-story glass structured building and glanced around the spacious greeting hall. She walked over to the elevators and pressed the up button.  
 
CONFERENCE ROOM  
 
“Are there any questions Mr. Barron?”  
 
Michael Barron glanced over the preliminary contract.  
 
Tristano looked over at Welford.  
 
Michael leaned over and whispered something to one of his financial advisers.  
 
Tristano glanced down at his Harry Winston timepiece.  
 
“Gentlemen, is the contract to your liking?”  
 
Michael looked across the conference table at Tristano.  
 
“Yes, however, the account you manage for my company now, will be quite different, then the three presented today.”  
 
“I am aware of that Mr. Barron. Nonetheless, the overseeing of any major account, takes precision, and an accounting firm that will not only have you, but the best interest of your company’s financial portfolios in mind.”  
 
Tristano witnessed a thousand emotions cross Michael’s face in a matter of seconds.  
 
“Mr. Giordano, my financial advisers, and I, will take this to our board of directors for a general vote. I will inform you of my decision sometime tomorrow.”  
 
“Very well. In addition, to show good faith, I am hosting a private engagement tomorrow evening, and I would be honored if you and your associates could be in attendance.”  
 
“I have to check my agenda.”  
 
Michael, his father, his attorney, and Barron Pharmaceuticals Incorporation’s two financial advisers stood.  
 
Tristano and Welford stood.  
 
“Mr. Giordano, thank you for meeting with me, my son, and our financial advisers on such short notice.”  
 
“No worries man. Mr. Barron Sr., I have a short bio in my office, which would be beneficial in answering any questions not addressed today.”  
 
“I will be interested in that piece of material young man.”  
 
“Gentlemen, you may follow me.”  
 
TRISTANO GORDANO III’S OFFICE  
 
Artesia pulled the thigh-high black fishnet stockings up her legs; she then repositioned the red garter farther up her thigh. She adjusted the edible lacy thong she had on. She glanced down at her Cartier watch.  
 
“What is taking him so long?”  
 
She glanced down at her fur positioned against a Crystal bowl of grapes, two champagne flute glasses, an ice-bucket containing a bottle of Cristal, and a cheese board of imported cheeses and slices of dewy melons.  
 
 Artesia heard raised voices in the corridor. She ran over to the window and waited.  
 
The skyscrapers of Manhattan dominated her scenery.  
 
Someone twisted the doorknob.  
 
Artesia leaned over and turned on the small radio. She clamped her palms to the sides of her temples and wiggled her body side-to-side.  
 
“Since you love to lick over these tits, here you are handsome.”  
 
She unclasped her red bra from the front, twirled it in the air, and tossed it over her shoulder blade.  
 
Her bra landed on top of Michael’s head.  
 
Artesia palmed the sides of her hips and rubbed over them seductively. She leaned over and twerked her buttocks, she reached behind herself and slapped one.  She untied the thong from the sides and threw it over her shoulder. Her thong landed at Michael’s feet.  
 
Michael lifted it from off the carpet and pocketed it.  
 
“Care to enter this back-door Mr. CFO, my dirty little interpretation of your title, Care For an Orgasm, which you know I would love.”  
 
Artesia shimmed her body, and then swung her hips side-to-side.  
 
“Ummm, I’ll even allow you the honor of licking over this, sweet tight pussy, all night long.”  
 
Michael, Michael’s father and his attorney, his two financial advisers, Welford, and Tristano looked on in astonishment.  
 
Mr. Barron Sr., removed his glasses from out his suit jacket breast pocket, and quickly slid them up the bridge of his nose. He cleared his throat.  
 
“Now, we’re even handsome.”  
 
Artesia turned around.  
 
“I…I…oh shit.”  
 
She covered her breasts with both palms, and then uncovered them; she pivoted to turn off the radio. In thee attempt, the radio slipped off the settee. She turned around, bent over, and lifted it from off the carpet.  
 
Fourteen pairs of eyes were treated to a firm derrière.  
 
Michael’s eyes wandered from Artesia’s stilettos, up the back of her long toned legs, her buttocks, and a smooth bare back. He hissed his approval under his breath.  
 
Artesia placed the radio on Tristano’s desk and turned to face her audience. She shielded her breasts with one arm, and her pelvis with her other palm.  
 
“The contract is yours,” Michael stated. He entered Tristano’s office and quickly strode over to where Artesia stood.  
 
“Well, that was quite a performance. My name is Michael.” Michael extended his hand.  
 
Artesia, without thought, shook it. She quickly recovered her breasts.  
 
“I sincerely apologize for my appearance.”  
 
Michael leaned his upper body back and glanced down at Artesia’s hips and flat abdomen. He looked down into her eyes.  
 
“I’m not.”  
 
Michael pivoted his head and stole a quick peep at the intimate setting.  
 
Artesia looked over Michael’s shoulder at Tristano. She mouthed the words, I’m so sorry.  
 
Tristano’s tight expression showed no emotions.  
 
Mr. Barron Sr. walked over to where Artesia stood, and handed her his suit jacket.  
 
Michael scowled at his father’s interference.  
 
“Thank you, sir.”  
 
Artesia slipped into the suit jacket.  
 
“Have we met before?”  
 
“Unless you were here to watch me undress, no.”  
 
“My loss I suppose.”  
 
Artesia looked up into Michael’s dark-brown eyes and blushed.  
 
Michael reached on top of his head and removed Artesia’s red bra.  
 
“I think you may need this.”  
 
“You really don’t mean that,” she whispered, and then winked at him. “However, thank you.”  
 
Michael looked down at Artesia’s fine downy hairs. He glanced back into her eyes.  
 
“If this office was not crowded, I would make sure you receive my, you’re welcome,” Michael whispered back.  
 
Artesia reached for her bra.  
 
Michael locked his palm around hers in transferring it.  
 
“Thank you.”  
 
“For a pleasurable view, you’re welcome.”  
 
“If my male acquaintance did not have doubt in his eyes about us conversing, I would make sure you receive my, thank you.”  
 
Michael pivoted his head sideways. His eyes returned to Artesia.  
 
Tristano witnessed the hankering tête-à-tête between Michael and Artesia. He marched over to where the two stood and settled his presence near Artesia.  
 
Artesia pivoted to face Tristano.  
 
“Darling, I thought I would surprise you, and entice you to eat me...I’m sorry, to have lunch with me today.”  
 
If he can’t, I damn sure will. Where does he know her from Michael thought?  
 
“Michael.”  
 
Michael lowered his eyes to the outline of Artesia’s breasts, her lips, and then up to her eyes. He swallowed down.  
 
“Yes.”  
 
“Mr. Giordano, has asked me to co-host his gathering, I would be honored if you could attend.”  
 
“Sweetheart, Mr. Barr…”  
 
“I will be there.”  
 
His eyes traveled to her bronze colored skin tone. Her lips enthralled him.  
 
“And you’re sure we’ve never met.”  
 
“If we have, I’m sure you would have remembered.”  
 
“That I would.”  
 
Michael looked over at Tristano’s irritated facial expressions. Lucky mothafucka he thought.  
 
“I’m sorry Mr. Giordano. I will not take up any more of your private time. Congratulations on accepting the Barron accounts.”  
 
Michael looked over at Artesia.  
 
“I’ll see you tomorrow... Miss.”  
 
“Please call me Lana.”  
 
“Pretty.”  
 
Michael looked down at Artesia’s pedicure toes peeking out her fishnet stockings. Her fine downy hairs covering her pussy, up to her achingly swollen breasts.  
 
“And I mean from head to toe.”  
 
“Thank you.”  
 
Michael looked over at his father and his business associates.  
 
All four men turned and walked out the office.  
 
Welford turned and followed.  
 
“Oh, here is the gentleman’s suit jacket.”  
 
“Keep it; it will give me an excuse to monopolize your time tomorrow.”  
 
Michael winked at Artesia, turned, and walked to the door. He exited Tristano’s office.  
 
Artesia inhaled, and then exhaled.  
 
“Wow. That went smoothly.”  
 
Tristano spaced his presence and turned to face Artesia.  
 
“How in the hell did you get into my fucking office!”  
 
“Excuse me.”  
 
“Had that client, not been blinded by your nudity, this entire whorish scenario would have been disastrous for this firm.”  
 
“I took for granted you do not invite clients to your office after a meeting.”  
 
“Today problems do not get solved by people thinking foolishly!”  
 
No, he did not just raise his voice at me?  
 
“I say you are absolutely correct.”  
 
Artesia walked over to where her fur coat laid, lifted it from off the carpet, and put it on. She headed to the door.  
 
Tristano dipped both hands into his front pants pockets.  
 
Why was he even upset, he longed to see her today. Was he really chagrined, because his client found her beauty and body breathtaking as he, and never once tried to conceal it?  
 
“Are we running again?”  
 
Artesia turned to face Tristano.  
 
“No, this time, I’m walking, and at this moment, our association is over. You can mail my wallet to me; oh, do enjoy your lunch, Mr. Giordano.”  
 
Artesia walked out of Tristano’s office. She strolled to the elevators and pushed the down button. She looked at the fire exit door. She pushed the door open and took the steps.  
 
Michael walked out of Welford’s office. He saw Artesia open the door that led to the fire exit stairwell.  
 
“Thank you, Welford, I’m sure my company will benefit from Giordano Accounting overseeing our additional financial accounts. Mr. Lemming, can you wrap things up here?”  
 
“Certainly.”  
 
Michael quickly rushed to the fire exit door.  
 
Tristano looked down at the picnic setting.  
 
The wrapped red gift box held his curiosity. He palmed his cheeks.  
 
“I’m here to make your life pleasurable, not regrettable. Let me in Artesia.”  
 
Tristano rushed out his office. He looked down the corridor and hurried to the elevators.  
 
The elevator doors closed upon his arrival.  
 
He hit the wall.  
 
“Shit!”  
 
‘The contract is yours.’  
 
Michael’s words rang in his ears.  
 
“Fuck.”  
 
“Tristano.”  
 
Tristano turned around.  
 
“Congratulations on Barron’s newest contracts.”  
 
Welford extended his hand.  
 
Tristano shook it.  
 
“Thanks man.”  
 
“I have to give credit to your sensual accomplice, wherever did you find her? The woman is beyond the word, hot.”  
 
“We met on unmoral terms.”  
 
“If I was in your shoes, make it mutual, and keep that pussy cumming under the covers. Although, you may have a little competition.”  
 
“Meaning?”  
 
“Michael returned to my office and signed the contract. He grilled me on your female friend’s name, what is her line of profession, and when and where you two met.”  
 
“What!”  
 
“Then too complicate matters, I saw Michael chase her down the fire exit stairwell a while ago.”  
 
“Had that client, not been blinded by your nudity, this entire whorish scenario would have been disastrous for this firm.”
 
“I’ll see you tomorrow evening. Oh, I will be leaving for the remainder of the day, if I’m needed, call my car phone.”  
 
Welford looked at Tristano’s departing back.  
 
The man lands a million-dollar account, but can’t take a moment, and relish in it he thought.  
 
Tristano entered his office. He walked over to the arranged items spread on the carpet. He squatted on bent knees and gathered everything together. He lifted the ice-bucket and rotated the champagne bottle inside.  
 
“Cristal. You really messed up big time, fuck!”  
 
Tristano stood and placed the items on his desk. He returned to lift the champagne flute glasses, Crystal bowl of grapes, and the cheese board.  
 
He walked back over to his desk and placed the items near the other items. He walked back over to the square wrapped gift box and lifted it from off the carpet. Like a little boy, he shook it.  
 
Tristano walked around his desk and positioned the box on the surface. He sat down and pulled his chair under his desk. He untied the red bow, and then ripped the wrapping off; he lifted the box top and set it aside. He lifted the scented envelope, opened it, and slid the card out. He read it aloud.  
 
“Something old, something new, something naughty, and something blue.”  
 
Tristano smiled and placed the card on his desk. He unraveled the tissue paper and lifted a blue silk tie, his and hers matching black robes, a pair of metal red furry handcuffs, and a receipt for a new cell phone. He lifted the card taped to it.    
 
“Since you destroyed mine, it’s only fair that you replace it.”  
 
Tristano placed all the objects on his desk and lifted his Platinum credit card. He unfolded the two receipts wrapped around it and read, “Mason’s Catering for sixty people, and Murphy Cellular.”  
 
Tristano sat back in his chair and swiveled it around. He could not believe the woman took the time to shop for him, plan a gathering for him, and his thank you, was to allow her to walk out on bad terms.  
 
“Ohh shit, her cell number.”  
 
Tristano turned his chair around. He lifted the receiver out the cradle, placed it up to his ear, and glanced down at the card containing Artesia’s new cell phone number.  
 
 
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