I slammed the door behind me and kicked off my heels. I was drenched with sweat thanks to this insane heatwave, and was feeling gross and frustrated. Thankful that the work week had come to an end, my hands flew furiously over the buttons on my blouse.
"Kara, can you do this? Kara, has lunch arrived? Kara, where are those files?" All week as the heat ratcheted up, the suits in the office just got more demanding and angry, taking it out on the tiny little girl. Grrrr.
Tossing my blouse aside, I reached behind me to unclasp, before wriggling out of my bra. My C-cups fell free and I immediately felt better. The zipper on my pencil skirt was next and it met with the rest of my clothes. I walked into the bedroom in my panties. Damp with sweat, I peeled them from my skin and flopped down on the bed to air out before checking my phone. Should I shower? There was a text
-- home soon --
Chris was my boyfriend, we'd been together for a couple months before getting a shitty little apartment together downtown. I mean, it was nice, clean and affordable- but the old wooden windows only opened halfway, and there was no air conditioning. Turning onto my side, I reached out with my toe and turned on the fan. The relief hit my body in waves, creating goose bumps on my perky bare bottom. I heard the keys in the door jangle, followed by a thud, as Chris dropped his work bag by the door. I hated it when he did that, even moreso after a day of putting up with a bunch of alpha males at work. I rolled over onto my back, propping myself up on my elbows and wearing a scowl.
Chris stepped into the room with his heavy boots and an inquisitive "Babe?" He wore an old red baseball cap, orange reflective vest and cargo pants, his face unshaven. His white t-shirt clung to his chest, soaked with sweat, his exposed skin showing an even red burn. He was covered in dirt and grime, carrying a musky funk into the bedroom. I eyed him angrily, secretly enjoying the look of this 22 year old, trying to look like an older, more grizzled man.