Julianna

16

The sun rose and everything fell. Like, no, literally, everything fell. And there was a lot of shit around. Alex glanced up from where he lay in duck and cover position on the ground to see a frying pan flying.
"There goes my breakfast," he thought to himself. Bits of half-cooked sunny side up egg lay splattered on the floor next to him. The giant Russian dolls that always sat on the shelf above the window now rolled on the floor. Alex kind of chuckled at this: a fat Russian babushka stranded on her backside like a roly-poly, too fat to get up.
Once the shaking stopped, Alex slowlystood. His pants felt oddly clingy. Looking down, he realized he had unknowingly been bathing in a puddle of his spilled morning coffee.
"Damned earthquakes," he muttered to himself. He quickly shimmied out of his pants, now stained with what appeared to be brown piss, and tossed them over the back of the red kitchen chair. He figured he'd wash them later. His Superman boxers were also slightly damp, so he pulled them off too. For a moment it felt odd, standing in his kitchen butt naked from the waist down. Alex contemplated going upstairs for a new pair of pants. But then he decided it was freeing to be completely alone and uncovered. So, he stayed in the kitchen and surveyed the damage. His work papers had gone everywhere, some stained at the corners with coffee. They could wait. After all, if they got damaged, it just meant he didn't have to read them. Alex bent down and picked up the bottom half of one of the Russian dolls, and then began to deposit its "children" inside. Suddenly, there was the distant sound of a key in the lock of the front door.
"Shit," Alex whispered.
Katarina entered the way Katarina tended to enter: loudly, grandly, in a way that bordered on theatrical.
From the foyer she belted, "Oh, darling Alexander, are you alright?" Alex was, in fact, very far from fine, considering his boss was about to walk in on him in a less than decent state. He jumped for the stained pants, which were, he figured, better than nothing. Alex cursed himself. Why in the world had he given his psycho boss a key to his house? True, it was helpful when she had to drop off papers for him at his home office. But now that little key was about to get Alex in a shitload of trouble. Katarina's heels clicked down the hallway, and her big-breasted shadow appeared around the corner before Alex could even get one leg in his pants.
Now it is important to understand Katarina before one can understand her reaction to the scene that awaited her in the kitchen. Alex's boss was eccentric, to say the least. She'd made all her money selling bachelorette party favors. You know those dick lollipops? She invented them. Candy underwear with flashing lights? Patented. There wasn't a silly sexualized do-dad she hadn't had a hand in creating. Needless to say, the woman was filthy rich. In her line of work, Katarina had cause to think about sex a lot, albeit in a playful, rather ridiculous way. Therefore, it was understandable that she was well "researched" on the topic of sex. Basically, the woman was comfortable with dicks. So, when she walked in on her employee, Katarina wasn't appalled, disgusted, or even offended. In fact, as Alex grabbed the closest item to hide his penis (an oversized Russian tchotchke head), she just looked him head to toe and smiled.
"Why Alexander darling, I didn't know you masturbated this early."
Alex stared at her, his look of horror growing. There was nowhere to go. Just him and his cleavage-baring boss with a puddle of cold-coffee between them.
"I-I just got a little coffee on my pants during the earthquake, that's all," Alex stammered as he worked with one hand to pull up his pants. He couldn't quite get his other foot into the khakis, and he began to wobble on one leg. He was going down. Katarina rushed forward to help with her hands flung forward in a dramatic pose, as though she was the heroine trying to save her lover from falling off of a cliff. As Alex teetered to the side, bare toes gripping the ground for balance, hands occupied with dick-covering and pant-pulling, the worst happened. Katarina's heels, those ridiculously tall, bedazzled heels, slipped in the coffee spill. For a moment, it looked as though she would regain her balance. She tried to steady herself, arms out to the side like an ice skater. But it was no use. With a high-pitched shriek, she stumbled into Alex, knocking him over like a bowling pin. The Russian doll rolled away, the painted on smile seeming to smirk at the pair. Katarina had landed flat on top of Alex, her boobs in his face, her perfume smothering him. This was a nightmare.
Katarina began to laugh. She had this loud, shrill laugh that echoed off the walls. Alex had never been more embarrassed.
"Well, Alexander, I must say, I've never flung myself at a naked man with quite so much abandon!" she chortled. She didn't make a move to get up.
"I-I'm so sorry, Ma'am. But if you could please move off of—"
"Shhhh!" she interrupted. "I will hear no apologizes. It has been a pleasure to land on your semi-naked body." With an exaggerated sigh, she rolled off of Alex and righted herself on her bedazzled stilts. Alex literally could not move. "Oh darling, don't just lie there." Katarina grabbed Alex's arms and hauled him to his feet. "You know I've always found you quite handsome," she whispered, slapping his butt. Alex had no words. "Meet me upstairs in ten. For-uhhum-a meeting." With a sly smile, Katarina teetered away. As she turned the corner, Alex felt numb. He looked around him, at the scattered papers and forgotten boxers and separated dolls. He contemplated going upstairs for Katarina's covertly titled "meeting." It wouldn't be that bad. In fact, it would probably be good. Lord knew the woman had lots of practice. And if he did go, he could always sue later for sexual harassment or something and get shitloads of money. If he didn't go, he'd be fired. He'd almost convinced himself it was worth it, but then he looked down at a very flat, flaccid extremity. Nope, he didn't want to go. That's what his body was telling him. So, with some measure of dignity, he pulled up his pants and tip-toed to the front door. He glanced around. Katarina wouldn't see him get away. Alex stared at the door handle and slowly turned the knob.