It was one of those days: One of those days where the in-box was bottomless and you just knew your job was secure because no one else was stupid enough to take on this much work. It was also one of those days that started with the best of intentions. You know what I mean. You get up early, pack your brown bag lunch, and vow to work straight through the day and into the night until you're all caught up. This was one of those days for me
I sat at my desk and stared at my in-box. My nose wrinkled. How would I ever get all of this done? I gave myself a brief pep talk about one piece of paper at a time and picked up the first folder while taking a swig of diet Dr. Pepper, my caffeine of choice. I will survive. I will get done. You can do it! And I did, for several hours, at least. I got my groove thing going and made a good dent in the stack. I was feeling triumphant. The "Rocky" theme was bouncing around in my head. I was flying high now! Then crash, right during the second stanza of "Rocky," I was brought back to earth by the loud ring of the phone. Rocky never had to deal with phones.
"Hello. This is Faye."
"Hi, Faye."
"Fred," I gushed. I couldn't help but gush. I had a terrible crush on Fred, and what's worse, he knew it. To be honest, though, crush wasn't exactly the correct word for it. "Crush" was the polite term that I liked to use because it didn't make me sound quite as slutty. Actually, what I felt for Fred was pure lust, an overwhelming sexual desire that oozed out from every pore in my body whenever I was around him. Still, despite my being in heat, Fred and I had managed to keep our distance, at least physically. We had shared a lot of intimate dreams and fantasies, though, and that had created a bond between us and caused plenty of sexual tension, in a good way. Fred just had an affect on me that I didn't get around most men. For the most part, I was a take-charge kinda gal, the go-to/get-it-done girl. I had a tendency to be aggressive and some folks even thought I was cold. If they only knew.
Like I said, Fred was different. He brought out feelings in me that I often tried to hide, mostly from myself. He brought out my submissive side, that side of me that wanted to give myself over to someone and let go of control. And while in my weaker moments I would admit this side of myself existed, those persons I felt I could share it with were few and far between. Sure, I'd run into plenty of guys that wanted to dominate me. Most of these men though, were rebuffed with a sarcastic "yeah, right." Loss of control was mine to give, and I wasn't about to give that to just anyone.
"How are you?" I spoke into the receiver. "You still in St. Louis?"
"No. I got done early and came on back. Besides, I didn't have any luck finding any women as sexy as you, so I figured I just as well come back home."
"Well, they do say 'there's no place like home.' 'Home is where the heart is.' Home is where this really sexy woman lives that wants to do you. Repeatedly." I was grinning from ear to ear as I teased him and the giddiness was apparent in my voice. I was glad he was back, and my excitement bubbled out my mouth.
"Sounds as if I called at a good time. You sound really hungry." The world "hungry" slowly simmered on his tongue as he said it. Both he and I knew what hunger he was talking about. My oral fixation was no secret. "I think we should get some lunch."
"I am hungry, but not today," my disappointment apparent. "I packed my lunch and plan on eating it in front of the computer."
"Nah, c'mon," Fred prodded. "We'll get something quick. Chilli's has that 'express lunch' thing. Endless tortilla chips. Mmmm, mmm, good."
In addition to endless flirtation, Fred and I also shared a passion for total junk food, and while endless mounds of fried, stone ground corn were tempting, I really wanted to get my work done.
"Next week," I promised. "I'll be all caught up by then, and we'll go pig out on tortilla chips and salsa. Do it after work and I'll buy a pitcher of margaritas."
I heard an indecipherable grumble on the other end and then, "Well, bring your lunch over here. We'll eat in my office. I have a lock on my office door." I could hear the teasing "wink, wink" in his voice.
"You are a bad, bad man, Fred. Next week, I promise."
"OK. I know when I'm defeated," Fred said. "Call me soon."
I slowly hung up the receiver and stared out into space with a secret smile on my lips. It was then I realized I was actually hungry and my stomach made an empty gurgle. I locked my computer screen and headed toward the kitchen to get my lunch from the frig. While I'm not sure how it happened, somewhere between my desk and the refrigerator I took a wrong turn and found myself sitting in my car, putting it in reverse, and backing out of the parking space.
Fred's office was not too far from mine. I pulled into the parking lot and was glad to see his car there. Hopefully, he didn't go out with someone else and was still around. Being lunch time, most folks were out, so I slipped into the building, mostly unnoticed, and headed down the hall toward Fred's office. I peeked around the open door and saw Fred sitting at his desk flipping through email.
"Hey, babe," I smiled at him. "I changed my mind. All this talk about lunch and locks on doors and tortilla chips was more than I could take."
Fred rotated his chair 90 degrees to face the door and stood up. "I knew you'd cave," he grinned. "C'mon in," and his head motioned me into the office.
I stepped inside his office and Fred walked toward the door to meet me. He closed the door behind me and turned the lock. "See. Told you I had a lock."
I demurely looked down at the locked door and then cut my eyes back up to Fred and smiled. "So, you have me locked in. Now what?"
Fred took another step forward closer to me, close enough that his clothes grazed mine. I took a small step back and leaned against the door and just smiled, calling what I thought was his bluff, and stared intently into his eyes. Fred leaned over me, putting his hands over my head, and propped himself against the door.
"You know you want it," he whispered in my ear. His hot breath and deep voice sent shivers tingling down my spine. He ran his hands down from my shoulders to my wrists, wrapping his large hands around my small wrists.
Quietly and breathlessly, though a bit exaggerated, I whispered, "Yes. I do. You know how I love tortilla chips."
Fred just shook his head "no" at me and smiled. While still holding my wrists, he lifted my arms above my head, pinning my wrists against the door. "I know you're hungry, and it ain't for Chilli's."
He leaned his head down to mine and slowly, tenderly pressed his moist lips against mine. I felt his tongue and opened my lips, welcoming him deeper. I was glad he was holding my wrists above my head because my knees were beginning to wobble, and I just knew that without his stationary presence I would have become a molten blob in front of the door, just an organic stain seared into the carpet for folks to walk over. I felt like the witch in the "Wizard of Oz." I'm melting; I'm melting.
Fred shifted his grip around my wrists so that he could free one hand. I stood there motionless as his other hand continued to hold my wrists above my head against the door. Slowly with his left hand he began to unbutton my blouse, button by button by button.
Standing there with my bra exposed, I realized this was going beyond flirtation and felt somewhat self-conscious. After all, it was a work day. I wasn't sure if standing around dangling by my wrists with my shirt unbuttoned was a good idea. I tried to pull my arms down, but Fred tightened his grip.
