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...that week i was going around to all the company's PCs,
updating the network software; at one point i found myself alone
in the manager's office with his secretary, Marseya. She has a
lovely precise, British accent, which contrasts in an interesting
way with her exotic asian looks; dark brown shoulder-length hair,
her lips ever pursed on the edge of a smile. Her dress-sense...
neat? neatness isn't quite the word (although it would have been
impossible to describe her as untidy)... fashionable? i can't
see her as a slave to the dictates of others when it comes to
clothes; all i can say is that what she wore accentuated her
slight figure in a very attractive way.

She stayed with me while i was installing the updates,
asking me about myself as we waited for the software to
de-compress. i was a bit wary at first... if she was a social
climber, then she had no good reason to talk to me (scum-bag that
i am :-)... in retrospect, i suppose it was because she was one
of the world's very few Genuinely Nice People.

i ran into a problem; it seemed that the hard disk was
almost full and the temporary working space required by the
software as it decompressed wasn't available. `that's a 60 meg
hard disk,' i thought to myself, `it can't be full of
word-processing documents already; they've only had it for two
months.'

`Is something wrong?' she asked, her beautiful face
shadowed by concern. I started looking around the hard disk,
trying to find what was taking up so much space. There were one
or two games, as usual; she admitted that the manager played them
sometimes during lunch. However, taking up almost twenty
megabytes was an impressive collection of GIF files, some of
which i recognised by their names; `3GIRLS.GIF', `COUPLE2.GIF',
`HORNY.GIF', and so on.

`Are these his as well?' i asked with a wry grin.

`Those are mine.' she replied evenly. I raised an eyebrow.

`Imagine that. Can you afford to lose about a dozen of
them?' i was surprised at her rueful expression.

`Is that really necessary? Can't we upload them to the
fileserver, or put them onto floppies, or something?' I like the
`we' part, i thought. Very conspiratorial.

`We can't access the server until the new network software
is in place... and the new software won't be in place until we
free up ten megabytes of disk space. Do you have any blank
floppies?' She spread her empty hands.

`You know what the supply department is like. Oh well,' she
scowled, `I shouldn't really have them on here anyway.' I
started up a directory utility, allowing her to select and delete
files which she felt she could do without. She freed up six
megs, but couldn't decide which of the fifty-odd files that
remained should go. `Could I look at them again? It would help
decide which ones to kill.' Suppressing a smile that threatened
to turn into a lascivious smirk, i nodded, ran my handy-dandy GIF
viewer (don't leave home without it!) and loaded the first file.
for a moment, i forgot to breathe... two very attractive girls in
a black marble bath-tub were caressing a third, sitting on the
edge with her thighs wrapped around the water-spout. All three
were naked; i didn't have to look very hard to see that the third
girl was Marseya. `No, i'd like to keep that one.' she murmured.
I could understand why!

The second was a close-up shot of Marseya's face, showing
her draining the last drops from a bottle of Perrier. Her eyes
burned with lust, her tongue caressing the circle of the bottle's
mouth.

`Ah... next...' i said, clearing my throat. She smiled.
The next two files had become corrupted somehow; i could just
make out naked figures contorted into vaguely tantric yoga
positions. We deleted them and continued.

The next one was in clip-art resolution - black and white -
and while it was rather nicely Floyd-Steinberg dithered, i had to
move back a few feet from the screen and squint before i saw the
image.

`Is that YOU?'

`Uh-huh.'

`Doesn't that hurt?' she slipped her arm around my shoulder.

`At first...' I took a deep breath and passed on to the next
image. After seeing the clip-art image, i didn't think that
anything else could shock me... which was a pretty naive attitude
to have. i could only stare at the screen, feeling the pixels
slowly burning holes in my retinas. She knelt down next to my
chair, and i became acutely aware of her proximity, the arousing
aura of her perfume. it reminded me of something. i realised
that i was still sitting there with my mouth open; i turned to
her and said,

`i never would have suspected that...'

`that someone like me would do something like that?'

`... that someone like you would allow yourself to be
photographed doing something like that. You don't strike me as
someone who would even think about bestiality, much less...' i
gestured at the screen. Marseya's face lost all traces of
emotion, becoming a blank mask. the sudden change made me feel
that i'd slapped her across the face, causing her to retreat. she
said, quietly,

`You must think i'm some sort of pervert.' and she got up
to leave. i grabbed her hand, forcing her to look at me as i put
on the most serious expression i had. i said,

`Not at all. This looks a lot like my GIF collection,
actually.' some animation returned to her face.

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`You collect GIFs? Like these?' i smiled.

`If you'd like to drop in to my place tonight, i'll show
you.' she returned my smile warmly; i felt a surge of something
inside me that was more intimate and somehow more noble than
plain lust; it was the feeling of two wanderers meeting, finding
that they had the same destination and that they were no longer
alone.

- - - - -

that evening, i rushed about my room, picking clothes off
the floor (where they'd been lying for days) and stuffing them
into the clothes basket. i kicked the bedclothes into a heap,
then decided to make the bed, to try and show that i wasn't a
complete slob. i put on my `motivation to make the bed' CD (The
Butthole Surfers' `Hairway to Steven'), and got to it. The music
was so loud that i didn't hear Marseya come in through the
unlocked front door. i was singing along with the CD;

`Whaddaya know about reality... i AM reality...' when, out
of the corner of my eye, i caught a glimpse of her, leaning
against the doorway and smiling. i stared at her for a moment,
biting my lip. she was dressed casually; a Country Road
windcheater with ragged cuffs; a pair of faded denims and scuffed
Reeboks. when compared to the icy Secretarial Standard Image
that she presented at work, it didn't look scruffy, but rather,
more personal, comfortable; as if the way she dressed at work
didn't express her real personality. and besides, i found myself
very attracted to the way the denim followed the curves of her
thighs and hips. i tried not to look like i was staring at the
subtle shifting of her obviously unrestrained breasts underneath
the windcheater as she regarded the room, taking in the
`Eraserhead' and Skinny Puppy posters, the uneven stacks of CDs,
videotapes and floppy disks, my personal computer which took up
all of the wide desk. I presented her with a chair, inviting her
to sit in front of the PC, gesturing with exaggerated servility.
she smiled sweetly, accepting the glass of moselle that i
offered.

i had prepared a `slideshow' of GIFs that started out with
soft- core `cheesecake' and progressed steadily into the areas
that she'd hinted at earlier. in lieu of a second chair, i
kneeled down next to her, and started the show. i was somewhat
surprised when she took my hand, holding it between hers as the
images marched past, and even more surprised when, as the first
of what i called the `really raw images' appeared, she pressed my
hand between her thighs. i glanced at her; she was completely
entranced with the image on the screen, and probably wasn't even
aware that she was rubbing her crotch with my hand. i wasn't
going to point this out - in case she decided to stop!

i watched her intently, noting her interest betrayed by
tell-tale flickers of her eyes as the GIFs became less `vanilla'.
i could see a tiny reflection of the screen in her eyes, just
large enough to show sufficient detail to determine which GIF she
was looking at. eventually, she got to what i considered to be
the most explicit GIF in the collection; a naked young girl with
long bronze-red hair, kneeling underneath a huge black stallion,
grasping its monstrous erection and kissing the end. she gave a
start when it flashed up on the screen, and suddenly realised
that my hand was firmly wedged between her thighs and under the
seat. for a moment, she didn't move, as if trying to think of a
polite way of backing out of the situation. Almost as if in a
dream, i found myself reaching around her waist with my other
arm, hugging her to me, pressing my face against her side, moving
up to press my lips against the soft warmth of her breast.
Keeping one hand over mine, squeezing it between her thighs, she
stroked my face with the other, running it through my hair, down
my neck, slipping it under the collar of my shirt and massaging
my shoulder. i felt her heartbeat, heard her sigh as she drew a
deep breath, feeling her ribs expand, gently pushing back against
my face. i moved my other hand underneath the waist-band of her
windcheater, stroking her side, cupping her breast and trapping
the nipple with my index and middle fingers. at the same time, i
slowly ran the thumb of my other hand along the rough denim
jeans-seam that was drawn up between her buttocks. she
shuddered, drawing another deep breath.

i slowly levered the reclining chair back, bringing her
face almost level with mine. my lips moved up over her breast,
nuzzling her collarbone, delicately teasing her pulsing throat
with the tip of my tongue. she sighed faintly in time with the
rhythmic motions of our hands between her legs (which were
becoming slower as she lost the will to resist clamping her
thighs together), her sighs muted to a soft humming as our lips
met. playfully, i dug the knuckle of my thumb into her; she gave
a start, her breath tickling my cheek. she drew her legs up,
turning on her side to face me, putting her other arm around my
neck; the reclining chair wobbled unsteadily for a moment, her
eyes widened as she felt her sense of balance disappearing, and
the chair toppled over on its side, spilling her over on top of
me.

for a moment, she kneeled astride me, too surprised to say
anything. Then we both began laughing, which gradually
degenerated into muffled snickers as we kissed again. She lay on
top of me, holding my arms outstretched flat against the floor,
slowly moving her lips against mine. her warm, wet mouth
occasionally twitched into a smile as her laughter threatened to
erupt again. i managed to slide my arms down to my sides, break
free of her hold and run my hands underneath her windcheater and
along her back, hugging her soft body to mine. She made the most
sensuous sound i have ever heard - somewhere between a moan and a
squeal - and brought her knee up, pressing it against my crotch.
My hands wandered over the exquisite texture of thin denim
stretched over her thighs, the folds in the material where it
rippled along her hip, the insistent resilience of her rear. We
were pressed tightly together, hardly moving at all; her fingers
slowly entwined themselves in my hair; i undid the brass stud at
the front of her jeans, then traced her spine along her lower
back, down underneath her behind and nestled three fingers in the
damp warmth there. My erection pressed against the smooth
cylinder of her thigh, through two layers of denim. she pressed
back, my lips sensing her smile as she noted the immediate
reaction. In return, i slowly pressed my middle finger past the
lips of her vagina, causing her to arch her back, angling her
slit so that i could slip all four fingers into her and pressing
her breasts against my chest. While she held my head still with
one hand, clutching a handful of my hair, her other hand fiddled
with the stud on my jeans, flipping it free and then drawing the
zipper down. She then thrust her hand down the front of my
underpants, grabbing my erection and my aching balls together,
slowly squeezing.

at this point, we decided that it would be a good time to
get the rest of our clothes off and move to the bed.