Outlying Regions, or, Aggressive Networking (redux)

Story by jokermon

I rediscovered this one and gave it a much-needed rewrite. Thought I'd share. Futa on Female/Male, preg.

Expect something new within the month.

Outlying Regions

(or) Aggressive Networking

A Short Story by jokermon.

This is a piece of erotic fantasy fiction. If reading this kind of material is illegal where you reside, don't read it. It you are not old enough to legally read this kind of material according to your local laws, don't read it. This story is copyright the author © 2004- 2008.

1.

Marcie pushed her big red SUV up past the highway speed limit and held down the window button until a refreshing gust whipped and flapped through the interior. It was a beautiful day, not a trooper in sight, and she sang along with a rock song on the radio, feeling fine. The blazer of her smart navy pinstripe skirt suit was open and she undid the top two buttons of the crisp white blouse underneath it, enjoying the breeze. Countryside blurred past the highway.

Not countryside technically, she thought. This area outside Atlanta, past the suburbs but not quite the rural wilds yet, was formally designated an outlying region by the city planners. Because of a business-friendly municipal tax strategy, many companies had relocated offices and warehouse facilities out to this vast space and almost as many suburbanite salarymen-and-women now commuted out here as to downtown Atlanta.

She fluffed her curly mass of auburn hair and checked her make-up in the rearview as she pulled into the parking lot of a long low office building of painfully-bright mirrored glass. Her full lips were lightly glossed, the rest as tastefully understated. Her tan skin really didn’t need much help, but she liked to cover her bets. One of her oddly clear, quizzical brown eyes winked at her as she pressed the bridge of her red-lensed aviator shades back in place, parked, buttoned up and walked out into the baking July heat. She swung her hips as she walked, the gold chain-strap of her purse shining. She felt good, and blessed to be alive.

The interior was mercifully climate-controlled, professionally subdued with gray carpeting and dark faux-marble walls. She strode up to the receptionist, who commanded a great crescent-moon of a desk with the company logo in steel relief-sculpture on the wall behind her. Marcie beamed at her and the receptionist smiled back.

“I’ll let him know you’re here,” she said, pushing buttons. She spoke into her headset. “Jerry, your 11 o’clock just arrived.”

She said it like a true Georgian: arrahved.

Marcie glanced at a clock. 10:52 am.

“Finally,” said the voice from the intercom with a happy sigh. “Thanks Janice, send her right in.”

Janice gave Marcie a laminated Visitor pass to clip onto a lapel and waved her into the maze of offices.

Jerry’s office faced out over a wide field with forests in the distance. The entire wall was a glass pane, one of the many mirrored panels on the outside. The room was long and generous, with comfortable chairs and a couch against the far wall facing the window.

Jerry came out from behind his desk as Marcie entered. He hugged her hello and kissed her offered cheek.

Marcie sat, legs crossed and skirt climbing as Jerry stood and leaned his slim, lanky frame on his desk. Without really looking, she admired his tan suit, tailored becomingly, and his sky-blue Hugo Boss tie. As she opened her valise, she was aware of his eyes on her long, powerful legs, following the indolent circles traced by her gleaming black high heel. She smiled a secret, pleased smile.

“Now Jerry,” she said, removing her shades, “let’s talk business.”

He sighed theatrically. “Must we?”

“Yes, dear, we must. Now then, I’d like to put forth the idea of your company increasing its order for our rotor assembly housings.”

“Well, we’re happy with them, of course,” he replied slowly, “but I really think we have as many coming in now as we need…”

“Oh come on, Jerry, you know Grant is going to nail the Phillipsburg-Contiki contract, and when he does, your demand for parts is going to triple.”

Jerry smiled, “We all have high hopes, of course…”

“Please, you darlin’ man, you know it’s in the bag. If you increase your order now, you’ll be rolling quicker later. I have the papers all ready…” she waved a stack of contracts.

“Well,” he said, a slow, perfectly white smile splittin

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