Step on My Ladder
Maybe it was the late nights. Maybe it was the stress. Or maybe it had something to do with the half empty bottle of cheap corner store scotch that sat open on the desk next to a glass that had just a single sip left in it. Or maybe it was a combination of the three. He knew it had to be one of those things, nothing else could explain his current state of affairs.
At the moment, he was currently in the dimly lit office wearing nothing but a pair of boxers and his shirt, which was undone. The rest of his clothing had been unceremoniously discarded on the floor. His left hand flung the last item away; it was a tie.
Turning back to the desk, he paused and picked up the glass of scotch and slugged it. He threw his head back as he finished off that last portion. The liquid slid down his throat, burning. He shuddered in delight as the liquid went down. With just the lingering tastes in his mouth, he slammed the glass down on the desk and turned his head immediately to the side and smirked leeringly.
He winked at the sensually arousing object of his affections.
Beauty was truly in the eye of the beholder. He found her more alluring than any sexy temptress to bat her long, pretty eyelashes at him. She was truly the most beautiful ever.
He strutted in her direction, slowly stripping the white shirt he wore. He slid it off his shoulders with sensual shrugs as he kept his gaze on her. He let the shirt glide off his arms, pooling around his feet on the floor. His left foot moved forward, kicking the offending garment to one side.
He extended out his arms. "Come to my pretty... oh darling, I long to hold you in my arms. To caress your sensual lines..." he purred as he reached out drawing the step ladder in the office in close into a longing embrace. He lowered a hand on the step ladder and caressed up and down.
He leaned in, placing his face against the cold leg of the step ladder and whispered lustfully. "Why don't we get more comfortable, my dear ladder?"
Thrusting his erection against the left side, he moved his hips up and down, creating friction. He repeatedly thrust his hips greedily into the step ladder, rubbing his erection on the rigid side.
He threw his head back, his antennae falling back. He moved his hips faster; increased the movement; giving himself completely over to the step ladder. Each thrust brought out a deep lustful moan. It became rhythmic. Thrust; moan. Feed the insatiable sexual drive; frustration.
Inebriated and sexually needy, he rubbed his erection against the ladder and moaned loudly, greedily groping the step ladder; he could feel the climax rapidly approaching.
"Oh ladder... dear... ladder..."
He shuddered a lustful groan. "Yes... that's good... oh yes... ladder... oh ladder!"
A girlish giggle broke the reverie. "Don't you mean step ladder?" a voice asked. The tone was curt yet playful.
Trucy closed the door behind her and walked over to Apollo. The grin on her face invoked a range of emotion within him. He wasn't sure how he should feel at this moment. Confusion; why she was here? Then realisation; he was wearing almost nothing. And then, finally, embarrassment; not only was he wearing next to nothing, he was drunk and clumsily trying to dry hump the step ladder.
She placed her hand on the step ladder. "Even if you're going to hump the step ladder, at least have the decency to call it by its proper name."
Apollo went to offer up a witty retort but found himself coming up dry. He had nothing he could say. He sheepishly put the step ladder to one side, and slunk away. He didn't want to get into a discussion about this now...
Trucy studied the step ladder, her hand still rested on it and remarked offhandedly, "when Klavier fucks you into the wall in the men's room at the courtroom, you don't call out Kristoph's name, do you? Sure they look the same..."
"TRUCY!" Apollo was just appalled at the suggestion. "I would never do that!"
"Then don't call the step ladder a ladder. It has feelings. It may look similar but there are fundamental differences..."
If he wasn't already red in the face from the large quantities of scotch he had consume, he was red now. He had never been so embarrassed in his life. He wanted to crawl under the desk. It was the next best thing to a rock.
"...for example, the step ladder opens versus the fact that the ladder can't spread it. You know, like you do when Klavier has you on your back."
She rested the step ladder against the wall.
Apollo had taken a moment to crawl under the desk while she was distracted.
She glanced under the desk and blinked at him sweetly. "You know it's true. It's a step ladder. Sometimes the small differences do matter."
Apollo groaned and buried his face in his hands. He was drunk, but at this rate, he planned on being blind drunk. He needed to erase this moment from his memory. He didn't want to remember this moment tomorrow.
He sighed. "Trucy... you killed the moment." He kept his face buried in his hands.
She picked up the bottle off the desk and waved it in front of him and giggled. "For someone who doesn't drink..."
"..some time we need to..."
He peered through his fingers and met her expression. He then mumbled. "And... what if I was desperate? At least the ladder—"
Through clenched teeth his seethed, "at least the STEP ladder doesn't nag me about what I call it."
She folded her arms and snidely replied. "I'm sure if it spoke, it would tell you that you're wrong. It's a step ladder and it would like you to respect its feelings."
"Ladders do not—"
He sighed and wondered he did to deserve this. He stood up and snatched the bottle from her. "You shouldn't be... drinking. You're under age."
"At least I know the difference between a ladder and a step ladder." Her tone was smug.
Glancing at his empty glass, Apollo did the only thing he could think of; he poured himself a glass. Paused. Then pointed to the door. "You can take your step ladder obsession and leave..."
Apollo blinked stupidly. Was she serious? Did she just ask him for an alternative to his command? "Or what?" He hadn't been prepared for that.
"Yeah. If I don't leave?"
He shrugged and took a sip from the glass. "I don't know..."
She picked up his shirt and held it out to him. "You should at least put your clothes on."
"No!" Apollo snatched the heap and threw the bundle into a nearby corner. He then sat in the office chair, holding the glass. "I intend to sit here wearing nothing but my undies." He raised the glass. "I declare this to be the night of a thousand undies!"
Trucy glanced down at her clothing and shrugged. 'When in Rome, do as the Romans!' Off went the clothes. She then picked up an extra cup in the office and taking out juice from one of the drawers in the desk, poured herself a cup. She held it up and declared, "Yay! Panties party!"