It was Rick's first day of a new contract. After being introduced to his colleagues, he set up his laptop, and while the flood of essential reading materials entered into his email in-tray, he got himself a foul tasting cup of coffee, returned to his desk and and was ready to get to work.
Which first meant surveying the office talent.
First impressions were not good. He sat opposite his boss, Karen, the Finance Manager, who was physically terrifying: powerfully built, short hair, square jaw, at least 120 kilos. He filed her: 'lesbian dominatrix'.
The other females in the large room which housed both the Finance and HR teams mostly didn't meet what he considered acceptable; they seemed to be collectively: middle-aged, unattractive with varying levels of plumpness, and badly dressed. He filed these as 'untouchable'.
There were three he saw as having potential. The first was Mary: PA to the Finance Director, 40-something (so pushing his personal boundaries, which were anything plus or minus 10 from his 35): curvaceous, Irish (great accent), but married with 4 children, and somewhat officious and distant. She was filed 'the yummy mummy'.
Potential no 2 was Sally: accountant, 30-something, prettier and slimmer than Mary, with long hair, and an athletic body. She ticked all the right boxes, but there was this slightly wild, mad look about her, sparking pings on his warning radar – he filed her 'the bunny boiler'.
The last was Scarlett; 50-something, so not usually on his hit-list. But there was something about her. She was at the other end of the office with the ladies in HR. She very trim for her age – with maybe only the hint of a little tummy. Behind her thick rimmed 'secretary' glasses, she carried a slight cynical smile, which Rick fantasised could hold all sorts of sexy secrets. Her platinum grey hair was moulded into an attractive business-like bob. She was well dressed: a prim white blouse, a surprisingly short grey skirt rested on slim, shapely legs which were covered in finely derniered black nylons.
'Stockings or tights', he wondered. He filed her under: 'the submissive librarian'.
"My God, he fancies himself," Scarlett thought as the new boy openly raped with his eyes every female in the room. He was a pretty thing, a nice bit of office candy to look at across the room: milk chocolate complexion; short curly hair; tall, strong looking and an athletic build. When they were being introduced, he flashed her with what he probably thought was a winning grin.
She filed him: 'the arrogant little prick' and went back to her work.
+++++++++++++++
That night in his hotel bed, he felt the urge to masturbate. He went through the women in the office in his mind, and put off by the probable personality traits of 'the yummy mummy' and 'the bunny boiler', felt a familiar stirring when he considered Scarlett, 'the submissive librarian'.
At precisely the same time, Scarlett thought of the 'the arrogant little prick', thoughts which soon turned illicit, and she felt an unfamiliar longing in her loins. She turned over and her arm crept round her snoring husband's paunch, and with a little difficulty found and fondled his penis. It rose as he slowly awakened.
'Not Saturday is it?' Charlie mumbled at this very rare treat. With a quick peck on the lips, he clambered on top of her, and as was now their custom, he entered her without any hint of foreplay. He felt her hand move to pleasure herself as she usually did, while he ploughed heavily into her. He could not see her face in the dark as he quickly grunted out his fulfilment. If he had, he would have noticed a distant look in her eyes.
+++++++++++++++++
Over the next few weeks, Rick settled down into his new role. His assignment was to analyse the HR and Finance departmental processes. It was dull stuff, but there was a lot to do to keep him occupied.
He flirted alternately with 'the yummy mummy' and the 'the bunny boiler'. They were both disappointments. Mary was very focused on her work and refused to flirt back. On the other hand, Sally became very interested; and started asking him questions like: 'did you ever want children?' Radar pinging loud and clear, he backed off.
He didn't flirt at all with 'the submissive librarian'. He would admire her from across the room. The more he saw of her, the more he felt she was the diamond in the departmental rough. She seemed very quiet and private and kept herself to herself. He realised he knew almost nothing about her. She slowly evolved into a challenge. A total long-shot he told herself.
One day he saw her approaching his desk, aiming for the coffee machine behind him. He decided she was very well put together for a 'granny'. He openly admired her form, her curvy hips, her pert breasts, her feminine gait as she walked smartly towards him, heels clicking; her thick rimmed glasses planted at the end of her nose – very much doing her 'librarian' thing. Their eyes met, and they held each other's glances for just a bit too long. Her face went vermillion and she angrily averted her gaze and walked past.
'Bingo', he thought.
'Shit, shit, shit, fuck, shit,' she silently taunted herself, as she poured herself a glass of water, feeling his eyes boring into her back. Weeks of fantasising about 'the arrogant little prick' from afar, and patently ignoring him when he gazed in her direction, all thrown away by a stupid flush. What will he think of this silly woman now?
Then he was next to her.
"Hey Scarlett." The introduction was effortless, both charming and flirtatious. He looked into her eyes, peered down her cleavage and back up to her eyes again in one easy glance. She crimsoned again. "I stay at a hotel during the week and wondered if you could recommend any nice pubs or restaurants."
She felt thoroughly wrong-footed. 'The arrogant young prick' was being very presumptive. She would take him down a few pegs.
"I really don't know of any... excuse me," she moved to get by him.
"Then maybe we should find somewhere together one evening," he persisted using his silly, cheeky, flirty smile.
She reddened again. This was pathetic.
"Not sure my husband would approve," she said icily, pleased with the curt put down.
"Well don't tell him then", immediately came back the smug rejoinder.
"I'm old enough to be your mother," she hissed.
"Then there is no harm in it, is there," came back the smug grin.
'Will he never give up?' she asked herself, and was working out her next put down, when she stopped herself and reassessed her tack. She took her time to respond, looked into his eyes as if thinking about it, then said in a measured voice:
"If you insist. Rustico's in the High Street. Tomorrow night", she whispered as she squeezed past him. "And bring your wallet because you're paying."
+++++++++++++++
Scarlett was on the toilet at the posh Italian restaurant. It had been a surprisingly successful evening so far. 'The arrogant little prick' had showed that, while being insensitive to a point of exasperation; he had a brain, a sense of humour, and beneath the boyishness, a maturity beyond his years. On top of that, he really was very gorgeous to look at, and she was quite taken that he was making a play for her despite the age difference. They had shared a bottle of red, which was a bit too much for her, as he blatantly flirted with her all evening.
