Chains, is what he felt. Bill completely got the ball and chain reference when people referred to marriage, but he did love his wife. She was a good, decent, loving woman. A good person, and funny. She made his days easier, and he enjoyed coming home to her. She WAS home. They were simpatico, had the same outlook on life, the same view on politics and religion and he would be hard-pressed to find someone who wasn't as perfect as a match for him as she was. All in all, he was content. People all over the world would have given their left arm for what he had, and he had no complaints. Not all a bad deal.
And then. He met her.
More to the point, she swept into his life in a swirl of perfume and Louboutins, topped by a gorgeous pair of chocolate brown eyes and an air of confidence that would have set Napoleon back on his heels. She was introduced to him in a nine o clock staff meeting as the new Head of Marketing for his firm. The very position he had been jockeying for. And as much as he wanted to resent her for taking what was his, he couldn't resist the spell she wove. In addition to being very, very attractive, she was very, very good at her job. There wasn't a single thing he could fault her for, even though he tried. He wanted to hate her but couldn't. And when she was named his boss, he couldn't hate her for that either, simply because she was good at what she did. Were it him making the decisions, he would have made the same one. And so they were thrown together, dependent on each other to make the department goals. She needed him to deliver, and he needed her to recognize his talent.
They spent more and more time together, as bosses and employees are apt to do. As he demonstrated to her how capable and talented he was, she came to rely on him more and more. And with the additional time came the inevitable friendship, the sharing of what happened the night before or how he spilled coffee on his pants before his client meeting. How her kids were disappearing nightly with their phones, how his wife always asked him what he wanted for dinner, even though he's told her a billion times he didn't care. How she has asked her husband repeatedly to clean the front gutter because it was pouring out on her plants and he has yet to do it; how he was tired of being the one that had to handle the pest control guy and the garbage guy and the cable guy. They commiserated over real life and found a shared connection; a connection strengthened every day by the daily visit to the coffeepot. They would grab a cup and sit outside on the building steps, reliving the day before to each other and people watching. Eventually the morning coffee graduated to lunch, and the lunches became longer and longer. They told themselves it was nothing, only colleagues grabbing a bite, but when he realized that lunch was the single most important thing he looked forward to day after day, he knew it was not harmless.
Lunch became their time, and pretty soon they refused through tacit agreement to discuss work over the salads and pork chops. One day, after a particularly grueling client meeting that morning, they headed out to "their" spot and ordered the usual. Bill looked at Nina and said "I don't know about you, but after that, I need a beer" and ordered a Modelo. Nina smiled and agreed " me too". When the waitress came, Bill ordered two, and they looked at each other with another silent agreement to keep the beers between them. While what you did on lunch was your business, drinking during the work day was frowned upon. They finished their food and their beer, and in keeping with the adrenaline fueled pace of the day, they ordered another. Nina giggled and said, "it's a good thing I don't have any meetings for the rest of the day" and took a very large swig. Bill laughed and said "me too, and I'm glad you don't have to drive!". Bill had driven, as he usually did. Nina looked at him and said "me, too" quietly. The waitress came back and offered the check. usually they split it, but this time Bill said "it's on me" and slipped her his platinum card before Nina could breathe a word. Nina sputtered "oh no!" and reached for her purse but it was too late. " Won't your wife get mad that you are out picking up checks?" "No," Bill said. "What she doesn't know won't hurt her". Nina cocked an exquisitely shaped eyebrow and said" Won't she see the statement?" Bill grinned and said "no. that card is mine and she has no clue it exists". " I see, " Nina murmured. Bill looked Nina in her deep chocolate eyes and deliberately finished his beer. He licked his full and sensual lips slowly before looking away. Nina's breath caught; they both knew without speaking a line had been crossed. What the line was, or where it had been, they couldn't say, but they both knew they were way over it.
As they left, Nina refused to look him in the eyes, and he wondered if just messed up royally. His attraction for her couldn't be denied, it was rock solid evident in his pants and he tried to hide it as best he could. He caught a whiff of her perfume as they made their way back to his truck and it was like a lightning bolt directly to his balls. He couldn't remember if his wife had ever made him feel this way, but was fairly sure she hadn't. He opened the door for Nina, being careful to avoid touching her or looking at her in any way. He closed the door firmly and made his way back to the drivers side so he could drive back to work and hide his embarrassment in some spreadsheets or something for the rest of the day. As he inserted the keys and the radio queued up, Nina said "whathsshoaywwah?"
"What?" Bill said as he turned down the radio.
"Do you not really have any meetings this afternoon?"
"No, I don't, thank god. Was going to lose myself in some awesome spreadsheets instead."
"Why don't we take a drive? I don't have any meetings either, and for some reason, I can't stand the thought of being cooped up in the office today"
"Um, okay" Bill said. He was in no mood to go back to the office and totally psyched to be spending time with Nina, but knew at the same time that he was on dangerous ground. This couldn't be explained away as "just lunch" and he knew that his co-workers would be all over him when he got back to the office. Still, it was Nina, and he just couldn't bring himself to say no.
"Anywhere you want to drive to?" he asked.
"Yeah. Why don't you go to the park on Main. We can talk, and watch the clouds without being interrupted. Do you know where it is?"
"Yeah" Bill grunted, slightly unsure of where this was going, but helpless to steer it in any other way but forward. Nina drew him in like no one else ever had, and he couldn't tell her no.
They pulled into the park, and Bill found a spot underneath some trees slightly away from the main path. It was enough to keep them shaded, but close enough to not be shady themselves.
He shut off the truck, pushing the key forward to keep the radio on. They sat in silence for a moment, not sure of what to say. They had long ago determined commanality in music, and the strains of a not blue-grassy country music swelled through the speakers. He felt hyper aware, like every nerve was on edge; like he was ready for anything, even though he didn't know what was coming. Nina looked over and placed her hand on his thigh. He was frozen, unable to respond, unable to move. He looked at her, mouth instantly dry, heart pounding. She leaned over, twisting her body so she was facing him and moved her hand from his thigh to his left shoulder. Her right hand reached up in slow motion to caress his neck through his hair, fingers twisting in the curls and pulling tight. Her lips came close and touched his softly, gauging his reaction. His response was immediate; he breathed a quick deep inhale and brought his left hand to the back of her head, holding her still so she couldn't move away. His right traveled up her leg to her ass, cupping the cheek and squeezing, unable to believe this was happening to him. Their lips parted, tongues darting forth to plunge the depths of each other, teasing pleasure that ran like wildfire through every nerve in their bodies. Nina pulled back, breathing heavy, eyes hooded, obviously lost in the web of desire that had overcome them and apologized. " I'm sorry, I shouldn't have, this is wrong. Forgive me." Bill felt lost as she pulled away, bereft of a treasure that had been given him and cruelly ripped from his grip. He panted, looked her in those beautiful eyes and made a decision. He reached for her and kissed her with all the passion he didn't know he had; made love to her mouth like a man drowning. He made her a weak, wet slave to his driving tongue, craving what only he could give.
As Nina struggled to regain some composure, grab some lifeline to reality, Bills hand on her ass slid down to her knee and then the backs of his fingers drifted lightly up the inside of her thigh. She held taut, in pure disbelief that he would do that as much as to how much she wanted it. Her pussy clenched in anticipation, taking over her mind and her common sense and before she knew it she had shifted slightly, spreading legs a little wider to allow him access to her. His fingers very lightly stroked the outside of her panties the length of her slit, waiting to see if she would tell him no, but all she could do was breathe and pray he wouldn't stop. Bill felt her wetness and couldn't resist touching her. He caught the edge of her panties and worked two fingers under, reveling in how hot and wet her pussy was. He stroked the outside, and when she gasped he slid them deep into her, filling her up. Nina cried out, unwilling to believe she was here, straddling Bill's fingers and loving it. Bill pumped her slowly, fucking her with his fingers, watching her mouth form a soft O, enjoying the animal sounds she was making in the back of her throat.
Bill kept his fingers working while he found her clit with his thumb. He flicked the swollen nub gently and she shuddered. That small motion had her gyrating on his fingers and he knew he had her. He flicked again and she gasped, a very quiet "please" riding out of her mouth on a breath. He continued to fuck her with his fingers, using his thumb to apply a firmer and more consistent pressure on her clit. Nina was riding his hand now, breathing harshly and moaning, lost in the pleasure he was bringing to her. He looked at her face, lost in the pleasure he was giving her, and asked her, "do you want to cum?"
Nina heard the words through her haze. Of course she did, she couldn't stop now if she wanted to!
"Yes" she gasped out, so close to the edge of an orgasm she couldn't really form a coherent word.
Bill continued to work her, creating a frenzy of need in her she'd never felt before.
"Ask me. Ask permission to cum. And don't you dare do it until I give it"
