John Resists

Taking a deep breath, John grabbed Olivia’s wrist, his fingers digging into her flesh, and forcefully yanked her hand away from his throbbing crotch. As much as he wished he could surrender to the madness that was consuming him, to let Olivia have her way with him, he wouldn’t allow it. Erin, his wife, would be strong if she were in his position, and he would be too. He owed her that much.

“I don’t know what has gotten into you,” John hissed as he grabbed his mug, not caring that it was laced with the intern's breast milk. He needed the caffeine, the jolt, anything to clear his head. “Snap out of it. What would the network think if they knew the things you were saying?”

But Olivia only giggled as she cupped her breasts, her fingers teasing her nipples through the fabric of her blouse. “You mean if they knew what we were saying,” she purred, her eyes gleaming with a predatory hunger.

She casually threw both of her feet onto the table, her skirt hiking up to reveal a tantalizing expanse of nylon-clad legs and black, stiletto heels. John nearly choked on his coffee, the sight of her exposed flesh sending a jolt of pure, unadulterated lust through his veins.

“That’s how I know you want this, John,” Olivia cooed, her voice dripping with seduction, as she rubbed her legs together. The sound of nylon meeting nylon was a teasing whisper that reached his ears. “We still have time before we have to be boring in front of the camera. We could have some fun, John. Real fun.”

The offer was tempting, too tempting. He wanted to drag her into the nearest closet, rip off her clothes, and fuck her until she screamed his name. He wanted to taste her, to devour her, to lose himself in her filth.

But John **** himself to take another sip of his coffee, the taste of breast milk strangely arousing. He needed to stay strong, to resist the temptation, but for how long? How much longer could he hold out against this onslaught of perversion?

“Thirty seconds before filming,” a crew member shouted. The announcement filled John with relief and dread. He can only hope the teleprompters won’t make him say more weird and perverted things.

Rolling her eyes, Olivia dropped her feet to the floor. A part of John was disappointed that the news desk hid her legs. As the countdown continued, John and Olivia watched as a man in a lab coat entered the set and stumbled onto the chair beside Olivia. He was out of breath, gripping a stack of crumpled papers.

Olivia shot John a questioning look before turning to their unexpected guest with her practiced smile. “Professor, thank you for joining us,” she said smoothly, as if this had been planned all along. Was she playing along, or did none of this seem strange to her?

“Sorry, I’m late for the interview,” the man muttered as he fixed his glasses, which seemed to reflect that same unnatural shimmer John had been seeing all morning. “It’s chaos in the research facility.” His eyes, when they met John’s, held an unsettling intensity. It was almost as if he knew exactly what John had been experiencing.

John frowned. What interview? There wasn’t one scheduled. And who in their right mind would agree to a live segment at this hour?

His gaze flicked to the news desk. A neatly stacked sheet of paper sat before him, filled with questions. The header read: Interview with Professor Isiah Maddox.

That hadn’t been there before.

But John had long since given up on trying to explain the unexplainable. What’s one more impossible thing in a morning filled with it?

A crew member shouted, “Five, four, three, two…”

Forcing a grin that felt more like a grimace, John turned to camera one as the first commercial break ended. “Welcome back. Today, we’re glad to have Professor Isiah Maddox with us this morning to explain…” His stomach dropped as he read the next words. His mouth had already started moving before his brain caught up. “The nature of reality and the threats against it.”

John barely stopped himself from **** on the words.