So! I have the beginning of this story written, and though I really like it, I'd like to get FCF's feedback on where it should go! There are a couple of ways I can think of that it could move on from where I will leave it hanging here, but I want to hear what you all think I should do. There are so MANY great writers on this forum, and I really, really feel like this is my home, and so for that reason, I want your takes. So, read and then comment below! 
Hate on the 38th Teaser:
It all happened so quickly and it was all so painful, that even that next morning, when the memory came to haunt and horrify, it all seemed blurry and out of focus -- except for her face. Taylor’s. Her smirk. Her taunting laugh. Those bits of it would never fade -- never soften, for they were seared into Rebecca’s soul -- as if she had been branded by her chief rival.
A woman who had been Rebecca’s co-worker at Bowman International since the company built their new building in New York. The two had worked on the same floor, on the same projects, in cubicles not feet from each other for approximately 2 years at that point. Yes, they had survived without killing each other, but it had always been hard -- painful -- as each found the other absolutely nauseating. Not unattractive mind you, as both women were tall, leggy, and stunning -- but there was just something -- just EVERYTHING about the other that drove them each insane.
Such mutual disdain had led them down the primrose path, as each engaged in argument after argument, in private and in plain view of their office-mates. There feud eventually became so vitriolic and distracting from their work, that both separately and then together they been called into not one disciplinary meeting, or two, but more than either could even remember. The last of those “get togethers” as Austin Bowman called them, had been months ago. That distance in time had led Rebecca, foolishly, to believe that perhaps finally, she and Taylor had reached some sort of equilibrium -- a plateau in their escalating office war.
That was until she, the girl with the fire-red hair, arrived home one night, with the sounds of moaning and grunting hitting her ears as soon as her key hit the lock. With speed and well-earned suspicion she threw the door open, and ran upstairs, finding there her husband with his legs spread, laying beneath Taylor, her hated rival, who sat facing the door to the room, fucking him. On her face as she rode him hard was an evil and expectant smirk, one that read like a victory speech -- a gloating eulogy to their parity. That expression was aimed straight at the door, making it clear that such a moment and in fact, the entirety of the seducing of the redhead’s husband had been orchestrated by blonde, just for Rebecca -- just to punish and humiliate her, in the most intimate of ways. It was a master stroke. A finishing blow, Taylor thought. One so devastating and hurtful, that Rebecca would have no choice but to quit her job, and leave the 38th floor of Bowman Tower all to her better.
The shock, the pain, the rage, all led Rebecca to scream and yell, as Kevin quickly tried to pull his cock out of Taylor mid-thrust, and run to his spurned wife. But for that attempt Taylor was ready, and before Rebecca’s traitorous husband could even sit up, the blonde reached down, grabbed the comforter beneath both of them, and used it and her sexy bottom to keep him pinned. Then, as he struggled beneath her, and as Rebecca stood, mouth open and fists clenched in rage, Taylor sped up her riding, and within seconds she drove not only he, but herself to an explosive orgasm. At that happening, both Taylor and Kevin screamed out out in ecstasy, as the spurned redhead could do not else but watch. Watch and cry, mind you, as she buried her face in her hands and tried to leave, too hurt and dejected to fight or yell. Too wounded by her rival to do anything at that moment, but run.
But Taylor was not finished, as she needed to drive home her message of finality, and so she chased. The platinum blonde grabbing her clothes as she sprinted, catching up to Rebecca in the hall, and though wearing nothing but sweat and Kevin’s fresh semen, Taylor grabbed the redhead by the shoulders and slammed her back against the wall. Then, before Rebecca could turn all of her anger and hatred into sound or action, Taylor reached between her legs, scooped what juices she could from her red hot sex, and then as she glared into the redhead’s eyes, smeared them across her cheek and lips. It was truly a devastating exclamation point of humiliation that left Rebecca quivering and defeated to her very core, as she slowly and pathetically slid down the wall and to the floor. She just touching down thereupon, as Taylor said with her most venomous of tones let drift: “I win….”
