After Hours (short)

Thorne went to the front door, peered out, and smiled at the empty parking lot. Then she turned the sign from open' to closed' before twisting the lock. "What a day," Glen said from behind her, and she turned in time to see him wipe fake sweat from his brow.

"You hardly did anything." She japed.

"Um, excuse me." He leaned forward and spoke through gritted teeth, his voice a mock strain. "I brew the best goddamn bean juice this place has to offer."

"Yeah, right," Thorne laughed and walked to the other side of the counter. "Everyone knows that I brew the best coffee."

"Oh yeah?" Glen countered with a doltish smile. "Then what do you keep me around for?"

"Because you're cute." She let her words sink into him for a moment. Then, Thorne leaned closer and ran a finger up his neck and under his chin, pausing at the top to admire his stubble. "And besides, someone has to keep me out of trouble."

They stared at each other for a moment before Thorne dropped her hand. She felt a twinge of excitement inside of her. And then, as if something unspoken had passed between them, Glen nodded.

"Yeah, that's right. That is a big part of my job." He stood up and started towards the back room, pausing only to call over his shoulder. "You're lucky I'm sweet on you. Even though you're sorta' a pain in my side."

She made a mock face of shock, even though he couldn't see her. Then Thorne followed him to the back, where Glen danced around awkwardly, struggling to untie his apron. She thought he looked like a man desperate to get out of a straitjacket and chuckled to herself. It was a simple knot, but Glen just couldn't get it. Then she noticed his right hand and felt a little thrill run through her.

Ever since her first employee Cynthia left, Thorne had almost pulled her hair out, trying to run the place all by herself. Then Glen's application came across her desk, and after looking it over, she decided to schedule a short interview. He wasn't too impressive but seemed alright, and Thorne didn't mind that he was easy on the eyes.

She'd decided to take Glen on part-time, hoping against hope that he'd be the worker that she needed him to be. In time, Thorne discovered that he wasn't the quickest learner, but he did put in the hours, and he was reliable. Plus, he made her laugh, and most importantly, he wasn't a lazy ass.

Then, after a month or two working together, Thorne found that they'd stumbled into a routine of casually flirting. At first, she resisted the idea. It worried her just how easy it was to be familiar with this man who was spoken for. But after a while, Thorne let her guard down and gave in.

"Where's the harm in being playful and friendly?" At least, that's what she asked herself. But as time passed, her attraction deepened. Thorne stepped behind him and yanked at the knot once. It came undone easy enough, and Glen sighed a quiet thank you.

"You missing somethin'?" She asked.

"What?" He spun around to look at Thorne and looked almost pained to see her so close to him. Instead of retreating after freeing him, Thorne stood there, crowding his personal space. "W-Where is what?"

She gestured to his right hand, And Glen's eyes followed. He didn't seem to get what she was driving at, and then understanding washed over his face. "Where's your wedding band?"

"Oh," he started in an uneasy voice. He flexed his fingers, then closed his grip as if this somehow answered Thorne's question. "Yeah, I... I must've forgotten to put it on today."

"Really?" She answered in a smarmy tone. "You forgot?" Thorne felt his eyes on her as she reached up and pulled her hair out of the messy bun she kept. She shook it free, and Glen let out a nervous laugh.

"The ring I've seen you wear every day, you just happen to forget today?" She closed what little space there was between them before reaching down under his apron. Her fingers nestled against the crotch of his jeans, and she felt his body stiffen against hers.

"What. A. Coincidence?" Thorne paused between each word seeing the anticipation well up in Glen's eyes and feeling iron form under his denim. Yet, she also felt him wrestling with what was to come.

Glen loved his wife. He'd only mentioned her a handful of times, but always in a positive light that framed her as an amazing and beautiful woman. He didn't complain about her, nor did he refer to her as "My old lady," or the timeless "ball-an-chain." There was something genuine between them.

Thorne had to make him see that this wasn't about love. This was about the pushing-pulling magnetism between them. It was about the way he looked at her and when he thought Thorne wasn't paying attention. How when they touched, it felt like sparks were flying. It was nothing as deep and awe-inspiring as love, but there was something. More and more, Thorne felt the urge to taste his kisses. She had a curious yearning to feel his hands all over her and a longing to see the face he made when he climaxed.

"Maybe," she thought. "Just maybe, his naked right hand was some sort of invitation."

"How long have you been married?" She prodded.

"Seven years."

Thorne paused for a moment, then clucked her tongue. "Seven years, huh?" She swayed her head as if doing mental math, then said, "Long enough for her to stop trying to please you. Long enough for her to stop trying to be sexy for you." Thorne saw his eyes narrow and realized she'd struck a nerve.

"I'll tell you what," Thorne leaned in and spoke gently in his ear. "You can fuck me like you used to fuck her. I'll let you do whatever you want, and I'll do anything your wife won't do. I'll satisfy that festering need you have." She let out a gust exhale, surprised that she was turning herself on with this sable proposition. "I'll let you fuck me like you hate me if that's what gets you off."

Thorne pulled away from him, still stroking Glen through his jeans, refusing to let go of him. His face was that of a distraught man. His hands clenched and unclenched as he stared at her, eyes boring into hers with mounting intensity. Then, when he could stand it no more, Glen took her in his arms, and their lips crashed into each other in a moment of clumsy bliss.

"Yes," Thorne thought in a triumphant squeal. "Finally, YES!"

She took his hand in her own and raised it, and to a passerby, they might have looked like two ham-fisted drunkards trying to dance. Then Glen pulled his lips from hers as if tasting the bitterness of reluctance. "Wait," he said, but Thorne only laughed.

"We've waited long enough, haven't we?" She doesn't wait for a response. Instead, her fingers roved down Glen's body until they hook his belt loops. Then, with eyes unflinching, she yanked hard, causing their hips to crash into each other with a gasp.

Thorne felt his erection between them, a riggling thing that twitched and somehow felt alive. Glen took hold of her hips, thrusting harder, sending a rough jerk through her body. She admired the power there and tried to imagine him bucking into her mercilessly.

The fantasy broke apart when Glen's hand slid up under her blouse and forced its way under her bra. He cupped her breast, letting her nipple slide perfectly between his fingers. Then he squeezed, making Thorne moan through pursed lips.

He squeezed and released, squeezed and released until Thorne squirmed. Her lips parted, and she felt her mouth set in the shape of her arousal.

After squeezing her to the point of almost agony, Glen said, "You're right." He bunched her apron and blouse in his fist and lifted it to admire Thorne's voluptuous body before their eyes met again. "We have waited long enough."

"Yeah," she agreed. "We have."

Glen nodded once before driving her back against the counter and hiking up her skirt. Thorne felt his finger teasing her through the damp cotton of her panties and peered down just in time to see him pull away with a silky strand of her nectar clinging to him.

Thorne spread her legs and asked, "Is this how you planned to keep me out of trouble?" Glen nodded, tasting his fingers, then kneeling between her thighs. He was quick to rub his nose back and forth against her clit, basking in just how aroused she was. That friction through her panties was enough to make Thorne whimper.

She tried reaching down to take off her panties, but he pushed her hand away. Thorne shuddered as she suffered sweetly, and Glen teased her until she was half-mad. After a while, every pass over Thorne's clit made her tense and mule for more, until finally, Glen pulled her panties aside.

She watched his tongue extend, saliva dripping from the tips like a broken faucet, before stroking her clit while she raked her hand through his hair. He gazed up at Thorne with eyes that seem to fondle her, and some colorless cruelty seemed to take hold of her tongue. "Do you look at your wife like that when you eat her pussy?"

Glen's eyes hardened, and that seemed answer enough. "It's alright," Thorne assured him. "I'm sure she won't mind you tongue fucking your boss." She took Glen's right hand tenderly in her own and raised it to her lips. "Tell her you had to do it for work." Thorne smiled down on him before sucking the finger that once help his wedding ring.

"Imagine what she'd say if she could see you now. Do you think she'd be jealous seeing you-"

The words fell away from her, and Thorne closed her eyes as a sensation rocketed up her body. It wasn't quite an orgasm, but she had to bite back her words as it passed. "What," she continued, trying to muster up the words. "What would she say seeing you eat pussy with an excitement you've never shown her?"

"How do you know I don't eat her pussy the same way?" Thorne flicked her hand impatiently as if to dismiss this claim, then pulled him back to her pussy with a knowing smile.

"I know you don't," she purred. "I mean, look at you: waggling that tongue of yours like a hungry dog." She saw anger flicker across Glen's face. "What's wrong," Thorne gave him a mock frown. "Does she not let you-"

But Glen shot up to his feet in an instant. His speed startled Thorne's words into a knot, and a moment later, he was standing with his nose inches from hers. She smelled herself on him, a wild and heady fragrance she welcomed, especially all over Glen.

"Let me!?" there was an indignant lilt to his voice. Thorne thought he sounded the way some men did when their brittle masculinity was being questioned. She watched him knit his brow as he worked open his jeans and looked down, hoping to catch a peek at what he was working with. But Glen tipped her chin back up with his free hand, denying her a glimpse. "What makes you think she lets me do anything?"

She thought to spout some cheeky answer, but before she could, Thorne felt the head of Glen's cock slip between her pussy lips. He took her by the hips as if worried she'd try to escape from him, and worked his way into Thorne, flooding her with both his cock and his disdain.

"What makes you think I don't do what I want?" She heard Glen's words as he sank all the way into her, and Thorne couldn't help but arched her back. "What makes you think I don't take what I want just like I am now?"

If Thorne had an answer, it was lost in the full-bodied vigor of their rutting. He threw himself into her, hips thundering erratically until Thorne was nearly crying out in pain. Glen was fierce, and he left her in a thoughtless rapture. Later, when she was sore and raw, Thorne would muse about how goddamn' pleasing it was to be fucked to near tears.

She reached her hand out and rubbed the swollen knob of her clit until she called out, and Thorne broke. "Fuuuuuck!" The word clamored out of her in a strained and ugly jangle, filling the tidy back room. Her orgasm screamed up her body before reaching her eyes and cascading down her cheeks, and Thorne couldn't help but wrap a weak arm around him as she gushed, and cursed, and trembled.

Thorne took hold of Glen's hand again and sucked his bare ring finger, this time trying to stifle the thick sound of want pouring out from between her lips. When she finally settled, Glen sighed and pulled his cock from her. She saw with some satisfaction that her cream had stained him down to the base. She realized with a twist of indifference that he hadn't cum.

"God," she started. "Please tell me I'm the only one you fuck like that." But the question seemed to rub Glen wrong, and his face darkened with surprised disapproval.

"Wow. You're really something else; you know that?"

Thorne flipped her hair and began straightening up her clothes. "After hours, I'll be whatever you want." She saw him tuck himself away and smiled. "Now, I want you to go home and kiss your wife with me on your lips. Can you do that for me?"

He blinked at her, stunned into silence. Thorne patted him once on the cheek then ambled past him. "After you're done wiping the counters and cleaning the floors, you can go," she called back to him.