A Book of Letters Ch. 01

Alex Gentry looked out the window of his third story office. It was a warm Friday evening in September, but the first signs of fall were encroaching into the leaves of the maple tree just outside his window. He was trying to decide if the changing leaves were a shade of orange or red, when it occurred to him that they were neither. Coral, he decided. Yes, definitely coral.

Alex loved that tree. From the buds of spring, the lush canopy of summer, and the shifting colors of fall, he reveled in the reminder that nothing remained static, that life itself spilled from one season to the next. Even the indolence of the tree in winter, as it quietly fought for survival against the wind and cold, reminded Alex of his own skirmishes with life.

As he stared at the leaves, it occurred to Alex that he was bored. He had spent a long day pouring over and adjusting schematics for an apartment building he was designing. Alex had been a partner in a mid-sized architectural firm for over twelve years. At 45 years of age, Alex had accomplished much in life. A degree from a highly-rated university, a marriage to his beautiful college girlfriend, professional jobs with increasingly greater responsibility, and finally partnership in the firm.

Although his marriage had dissolved a few years earlier, Alex had found solace in a few girlfriends. None of these relationships had taken root, but Alex had grown into his single status and felt largely content. Alex was currently single, his last girlfriend having broken it off months earlier upon realizing that Alex was in no hurry to settle down.

Alex observed that two cars remained in the parking lot next to his tree. Alex's own car was the red convertible Jaguar. Having achieved a degree of financial security, Alex permitted himself the occasional splurge. Alex had discovered this car useful in attracting some of his more materialistic women friends since the divorce. Alex's mind skipped briefly to a blow-job he had received two months earlier while sitting in the driver's seat from a leggy brunette he had met at a dinner party. He thought briefly about that encounter with Veronica. Alex decided in a momentary flashback of lust that Veronica had known what she was doing, as he recalled her full red lips and her hungry mouth.

Alex shook the memory of this encounter from his head and noticed that the remaining car was an older model Acura, which was showing its years. Alex did not recognize the car and wondered who was still at work since the office usually cleared out quickly on Fridays. Abandoning this puzzle, he turned away from the window, his focus going back to the drawings on his over-sized computer screen.

Alex worked on his plans for another hour. He had become engrossed in his project and had not noticed the earth continuing its rotation, the early fall sun fading to dusk. By the time he looked up, dusk had become darkness. The only light remaining was the glow from his computer screen, the faint glimmer of streetlamps outside his window, and the fluorescent hall lights. As Alex packed his briefcase and prepared to leave, his mind returned to that evening with Veronica.

The dinner party had been a somewhat dull affair, largely married couples indulging in too much cheap wine, droning on about their over-achieving kids. Alex had been invited to attend by one of his senior partner's wives, who believed Alex spent too much time alone since the divorce, not knowing about his string of girlfriends. The night would have been a total loss but for two lucky events. Alex's partner, Rich, had opened a superb bottle of 21-year-old single malt scotch for the occasion. And Veronica, Rich's 21-year-old daughter, was home from college for the weekend.

Alex knew the spirit of the evening was taking a significant turn for the better when Veronica, who had been sitting across the table from him at dinner, flashed him a smile that would have buckled his knees had he been standing. Alex had been pouring on the charm with Veronica all night, not expecting anything to come from it. Although Alex was 20-plus years older, he had a certain energy in social settings, which, combined with his generally youthful appearance and sense of style, lent itself to attracting younger women. And, the Jaguar did not hurt.

After dinner, all of the guests moved outside, where the hosts had a lovely bar and seating area. Alex watched Veronica walk from the table to the patio door. He figured she must have been five foot six or seven, but with her three-inch, red, ankle-strap heels, she looked taller. Her long, dark hair flowed over her shoulders and down several inches below the neck-line of her dress. Veronica's calves were firm, leading up the back of her well-tanned legs, and at least three inches of beautiful thigh showing under the hem of her flared summer dress. Alex could not help but feel aroused by this girl, despite the age difference, and that smile she had just given him suggested the feeling might not go to waste.

On the patio, Alex sat next to Veronica and finished two tumblers of scotch. Veronica sipped her own glass of whiskey while Alex peppered her with questions about school and her parents. Occasionally, Veronica would run her finger tip along the edge of her glass, then slowly move the red-painted nail to her lips, lightly drawing the whiskey onto her tongue. Neither the hosts - Veronica's parents - nor the other guests noticed the sexual tension rising between Alex and Veronica, apparently too engrossed in their own wine-soaked conversations. Alex's state of arousal never quite left him during all of this, and indeed, the more Veronica talked, and the more she looked at him with her beautiful face and red lips, the harder his cock pressed against the leg of his pants.

Finally, Veronica rose from her seat, and stood in front of Alex for about 10 seconds, which felt to Alex like 10 minutes, her eyes burning into his. She looked down at the bulge pressing against his pants. Veronica flashed that electric smile again and, saying nothing, turned and entered the house. Alex followed, about 30 seconds behind her so as to not arouse the attention of anyone else. When Alex entered the house, he heard the click of heels on the hard wood floors, and he followed the sound. Turning a corner, Veronica was standing in a hallway, leaning slightly against the wall, her left foot lifted and her heel pressed lightly into the softly-painted drywall. Alex looked for a moment into Veronica's lavender-colored eyes. Then, he fell on her.

His hands immediately went to her waist, and Alex pressed his lips into hers, slipping his tongue into her waiting mouth, meeting her moist, urgent tongue. Alex pulled her by the waist into him, Veronica's flat mid-section meeting his groin, only a few layers of fabric separating his skin from hers. Alex let out a small sigh as the pressure of her warm body provided some relief to pressure from his throbbing cock. His right hand slipped down to the hem of Veronica's dress, pulling it up slightly. With his left hand holding her firmly to his body, and his tongue buried in her mouth, Alex brought his right hand around to the lacy edge of Veronica's panties. He could feel the heat coming off of her.

Sensing no resistance to his advances, Alex slipped his index finger under Veronica's panties, and he pressed it against her moist pussy, searching it, probing for the right spot. Veronica became more frantic with her mouth, and Alex found her hole, roughly pushing his finger deep into her. Her lips pulled back from his, and she let out a low, guttural moan. Alex pushed a second finger in, and began stroking her, pumping her with two fingers, wasting no time. Veronica threw her head back, closing her eyes, allowing him to stroke her for a few moments. Then, abruptly, she pushed him away, saying only, "Let's go."

Alex followed her down the hall and out the front door, almost running to keep up with her pace. He caught up and led her to the passenger door of his car, opening the door as she slipped in, her movements feline, quick and agile. Alex jogged to the other side of the Jaguar, and jumped in, not bothering to open his own door. As the car's engine fired, the motor purring, Veronica told Alex, "wait," then she leaned over and began unbuckling Alex's belt, kissing and nipping the top of his chest with her teeth through the opening of his shirt. She unzipped his pants and pulled them and his underwear to his knees in one, semi-graceful movement. Veronica caught her first glimpse of Alex's six-inch cock as it sprang out of his underwear to meet her warm, waiting hand.

"Ok, you can go," she whispered into his ear, leaning her upper body into him. Alex felt the press of her firm 21-year-old tits brushing against his shoulder as he backed the Jaguar out of the driveway. As he sped down the neighborhood streets, Veronica slowly stroked Alex's cock with her right hand, leaning over the console as far as her body would permit. Alex caught a glimpse of her red-painted nails as her hand cupped the head of his manhood, and then again as she slowly moved down his shaft to the base, then up again. Veronica moved slowly at first, edging him, teasing him with the warmth of her hand, her red-nails lightly brushing his shaft as she stroked him. Her face was turned into his as she leaned over, and occasionally she would brush her lips against his, and Alex could taste the sweet mix of her lip gloss and fine whiskey.

When they made it to a busy thoroughfare, Veronica slowly dipped her head into Alex's lap. He felt Veronica's soft hair fall forward onto his thighs, and she brushed the head of his cock with her lips. At first Veronica slowly licked around the sensitive glans, but after only a few seconds, Veronica's mouth engulfed him in one swift movement. Alex could feel his cock hit the back of her throat for the first time. As the breeze blew through Alex's hair, Veronica's hot little mouth enveloped him, alternating between deep, quick thrusts into her throat, and then a slow, almost tortuous withdrawal, Veronica's tongue constantly stroking him.

The feel of Veronica's hair on his thighs, and the occasional view of her red-painted hand on the base of his cock, while her mouth alternated between enveloping him and kissing his head, was beyond erotic. Alex was near to bursting, but then, Veronica did something totally unexpected.

In his experience, the younger the girl, the less adventurous. It was simple math; more years, more experience with sex. The one girl in her late 20s that Alex had been with since his divorce had been fairly conservative in her sexual behavior. Yes, modern, younger women were familiar with the art of the blowjob, and they might even know three or four sexual positions. But, that was pretty much the extent of it.

Veronica, however, was apparently the exception to the rule. As Alex slipped close to his orgasm, Veronica moved the hand that had been controlling his shaft from the base of his cock down to his ass. And then, as she continued taking his cock into her throat, followed by a slow withdrawal, Veronica gently probed Alex's ass, and finding what she wanted, she slowly slipped a soft finger inside of Alex's tight asshole. When she hit his prostate, it was all over for Alex; he exploded into Veronica's mouth. The first rope of cum was so intense, Alex almost ran the Jaguar into a car parked on the side of the road, as his body jerked from the explosion and his eyes briefly rolled back into his head. Alex regained a little control as the second and third ropes fired from his cock. Veronica, apparently no stranger to the experience, stayed right where she was as a full load of cum quickly entered her mouth and throat, and she swallowed it all while continuing to stroke Alex with her tongue. Finally, when Alex was spent, after his cock had tensed and released for the last time, Veronica slipped her finger out of his ass, and rose upright into her seat. She gave Alex a wicked little smile as she swallowed the last of his cum.

Two months later, Alex was sitting in his chair at his desk as he remembered that evening. Recalling it, his cock had sprung to life, and getting some relief was not going to wait until he got himself home. Alex moved to his office door, closing and locking it. He returned to the window, looking into the parking lot one last time, seeing both his Jaguar and the Acura, then he turned down the blinds. Alex unbuttoned his pants, reached for his cock, and began masturbating with urgency.

As he quickly stroked his own shaft, Alex's mind turned back to Veronica. Of course, he had fucked her several times that night when they had arrived at his apartment. Her 21-year-old pussy had been a dream - soft and tight, but not too tight. But as he jerked his cock in front of his computer, Alex's memory kept returning to the feel of Veronica's hair on his thighs, his cock filling her throat, and her finger hitting his prostate.

Finally, Alex came hard. As he held his weight with his left hand on the desk, his right hand continued pumping, shooting rope after rope of cum onto the desk in front of his computer. Despite the general lack of control in the moment of apex, Alex did his best to keep the cum off the keyboard and his computer screen. After finishing, Alex whispered "fuck," to himself, trying to figure out where he was going to get a towel to clean up the mess, not having had the foresight to plan for this in his moment of compulsion.

Alex turned away from the computer screen, and pulled his pants up. Luckily, Alex had managed to keep the cum off of his hand. The last remaining cum dribbling from the tip of his cock was wiped away onto his underwear. Alex moved to the door of his office, quietly unlocking it and cracking it open. He peered out into the cubicles in the center of the office, and around the exterior wall of offices, looking for any odd lighting that would suggest someone was out there. Waiting a few minutes, seeing and hearing nothing, he pulled the door of his office closed, hoping the janitor would not show up while he walked to the bathroom for some paper towels.

Alex made it to the bathroom, washed his hands, and grabbed a stack of paper towels. Seeing no one in the office, he began feeling steadily more comfortable that he was in fact alone. Returning to his office, Alex opened the door, not noticing at first the change in the room, a change that was about to transform his life, moving him to the next season, a season he would later refer to simply as "Coral."

Alex walked around his desk and was about to use the paper towels to begin cleaning the mess of semen, when he saw it. His heart skipped a beat and the paper towels slipped out of his hand onto the floor. Alex's computer screen, which had previously been filled with a large architectural plan, had gone black, but with one large sentence in block letters. If the inanimate words had sound, they would have been shouting at him: "Alex, You Have Been Naughty."

Alex's heart raced and his eyes darted around the room, half-expecting to see someone lurking in the corner of his office. Seeing no one, he stood silent for a moment, listening for sound outside his office, but the only sound was the pounding of his heart in his chest. Composing himself, Alex walked gingerly toward the door, and put his ear against it. Again, no sound. Reaching for the door handle, he slowly turned it, cracking the door open, and he peered outside, scanning the room, looking for any sign of life. Nothing but empty cubicles, the soft buzzing of fluorescent lights, and the white noise of an air handling unit. Alex softly closed the door and walked back around his desk.

Alex looked back at the computer screen, and in addition to the primary message, he noted for the first time, a second sentence, in smaller letters at the bottom of the screen. It said simply, "Click Here."

Alex stood looking at the computer screen for what must have been 10 minutes. He wondered why the screen was not reverting to his relic of technological nostalgia, the flying toasters screen saver. He continued standing, waiting for the screen to turn, wondering if perhaps he were having some kind of bizarre dream. Nothing happened; just the words - "Alex, You Have Been Naughty" - continuing their silent reproach, and the invitation to "Click Here," waiting below. Sitting below these words on the desk, waiting to be cleaned, a load of his own semen. Alex's heartbeat slowed, and his mind gradually became less clouded. Alex picked the paper towels up from the floor and wiped his cum off the desk, feeling somewhat disgusted with himself.

Finally, as he was cleaning, Alex remembered the car, the beat-up Acura. He threw the dirty towels in his trash can, then turned to his left and opened the window blinds. The parking lot now stood empty but for his waiting Jaguar. Alex was not sure what to make of the missing car. He turned back to the computer screen. Now, he had to decide whether to follow the instructions to "Click Here."

Alex's mind worked through the possibilities. This could be some kind of strange virus or outside program that had taken over his computer. But the use of his name and the timing of the message told him that it was not; simply too coincidental. He also considered whether to just ignore the message, shut his computer down, and go home. Maybe it was just someone's idea of a practical joke. Maybe no one actually saw him masturbating, and it was simply his guilty conscience talking to him. But it did not feel like a practical joke, it felt secret, conspiratorial, even intimate. Something about the message made Alex feel like this person really knew him, that it was no joke, and that he should in fact, "Click Here." So, he decided. Alex reached toward his mouse, moved the cursor to the right spot, and clicked.

The media player came to life, and a video began playing on the screen. A silent title appeared, and it said only, "Hi, Alex Gentry." The screen morphed into the next, which was simply a picture of Alex, outside his office door, wearing a suit. It appeared to have been taken some months ago, and Alex was neither smiling nor posing, suggesting he did not know the picture was being taken at the time. Alex currently had a beard, and in this picture, he was clean-shaven. The vague hope that this message was some type of mistake, not really meant for him, vanished from Alex's mind.

The screen shifted from the picture of Alex, to another written message, "I've Been Watching You Alex." Alex's discomfort shifted to fear. A hormone rush hit him, and he quickly glanced out the window. Only his car remained in the parking lot. Seeing only the Jaguar this time did not feel quite as good. He felt alone and vulnerable. Perhaps anticipating this response, the inanimate narrator changed the screen again, with a new message, "Oh, Relax. I'm Not Going to Hurt You, Alex." Alex did not relax.

Now, the screen shifted to action. It was a video of Alex. From earlier that evening. The view of his office was quite clear. Alex's diploma was on the wall in the background. Family photos sat on the credenza below it. There was Alex, unbuckling his pants. Alex, reaching for his cock. Alex, with his hard cock in his right hand, pumping. Alex's face twisting a little strangely, and cum pumping out, toward the invisible camera.

As Alex watched this video, he could feel his face flush with embarrassment. It made him feel like a teenager again, spanking his monkey in the bathroom, only to have his mom burst in so she could put away the goddamned towels. But then his embarrassment began to mutate into anger. Alex felt violated by this invasion of his privacy. Alex sat stunned and angry, watching the screen, as the video looped back again to him unbuckling his pants, but this time as it replayed, it culminated in a slow motion shot of Alex's right hand stroking his own shaft, and then his seed shooting onto the desk, one milky, slow-action stream after another. Alex then stood and scanned the area with his eyes, searching for the hidden camera. His computer had no video cam, but there was a camera somewhere. Then, the screen shifted again.