Erica S Errant Erotica

It wasn't that I'd really do anything. I was true blue to my husband of twenty years and sex was 'in house only'.

However, that doesn't mean that I didn't have fantasies and like many women I had a few items on hand in the nightstand drawer to pleasure myself with when horny times hit and my husband, Rick, wasn't around or interested.

Now in our mid forties we both still worked full time. Mainly office work, Rick was a sales vice president for a bedding manufacturer and I was a design assistant for the same company but on different floors of the same building.

My boss, Jim, always greeted me in the morning with, "Hey, Erica, another beautiful day at work because you're here." Whatever happened to 'Hi'?

He never made a pass at me or said anything else suggestive that might warrant a complaint but when I was alone in my office or fooling around with my nightstand toys I often fantasized about him. Now I know that doesn't sound like much of a complaint but regardless of its intent the problem was me. I liked it...a lot. Jim was an attractive single man and I was an attractive married woman, a tall, slender redhead, who happened to work under him, excuse the pun.

I defend the right of any woman to create and maintain the fantasy man, or woman, of their choosing. I'm pretty sure that's in the rule book somewhere. I'd be surprised if Rick had me in his fantasy top ten but he'd never tell.

My ongoing problem with Jim was, on a day to day basis, figuring out how to separate, in my head, a collegial work environment and wanting him to come in my office, lock the door and fuck the shit out of me.

I had no one to reference on this. I could pick out a gal pal to confide in but nearly all of them were also friends of Rick's and that was too revealing...except maybe Dee...maybe. Dee was our mutual secretary. Tall, black and beautiful, if anyone knew anything about Jim, that would be Dee. And if I shared my inner sexual quandary with anyone, I had a hunch Dee could keep it between us.

I felt like I had to get it out or explode into a million horny pieces.

I asked her to lunch not knowing how I would approach it but hoped for the best. We made a lot of small talk about our families and office politics but nothing much to steer the conversation to Jim until she said, "So, what do you think of our boss?" That was a very wide opening which I managed to narrow down quickly.

"I like him, but I have to admit it's tricky to work with him because I...I." The words got stuck but then it was Dee to the rescue. "Because you want to, hmm, shall we say, have him for lunch?"

The door was open.

"Oh god, yes. Thank you. In a world full of workplace harassment and bad behavior, here I am fantasizing about my boss."

"I know," said Dee humorously indignant, "Can you believe that guy has the gall to be perfectly appropriate..."

Then we busted out laughing like hyenas at the ironic silliness of it all. "I can't believe that other than the 'hello beautiful' thing he's single handedly screwing up my fantasy world!"

"Maybe we should file a complaint over neglect!"

And we both started laughing again. I needed someone to share my fantasy with and Dee was the perfect sounding board because she was smitten too.

But then the brakes went on and decorum took over. "I'm sorry, Erica, you're my boss and you're married. Maybe we've crossed enough lines for one day."

"You're right, Dee, I just want you to know that anything said between us stays between you and me...and our cute server."

She laughed but there was no more talk of Jim at lunch, although for the rest of the afternoon every time I passed her desk at the office we'd smile or giggle a bit.

***

That evening at dinner, in a risky mood, I asked Rick if he ever had secret crushes on his secretary or a co-worker. I said it in a playful way, getting him to loosen up on the topic.

"Why?" he asked, "Are you getting ready to leave me and hope I'll be taken care of?"

"No, crazy, you know what I mean. People get crushes on co-workers all the time. It doesn't mean they're leaving their spouses."

"Erica, there are rules about these things. But...sometimes I suppose."

Excited he admitted anything at all, "Who, who, c'mon tell me."

"You know, people."

"Well that really narrows it down. Are you going to play with me or be an old fuddy duddy?"

"Okay, you know Sandy in accounts payable?"

"Yeeesss, she's cute as hell."

"Well I like her. But I love you more!"

"Ya, ya, I know I'm great but tell me, did you ever imagine having sex with her?"

"Erica!!"

"I'm just asking, did you ever fantasize about having her?"

"What are you doing, getting ready to leave me?"

"No, I'm just having fun with human nature. Maybe you're an alien from another planet and don't have what we call human urges."

"Okay, smart ass, I've fantasized about Sandy."

"Ahhhh, now we're getting somewhere. In your fantasy did you fuck her or just shake hands?"

"C'mon, Erica."

"I just don't want us to be a staid, boring couple who can't even talk about their sexual selves. That's all. I'm not suggesting we run out and have affairs but I think it's healthy to talk about sex. Sometimes I have a better relationship with my vibrator than you."

"You don't enjoy our lovemaking?"

Yes I do but that's not what I'm talking about. I'm saying there's more we could get out of our relationship just by talking. Now I know you have the hots for Sandy."

"Not the hots but a healthy attraction."

"You're wearing me out, nitpicker...one last question; in your fantasies have you fucked Sandy?"

Big reluctant pause, "Yes."

"Thank you, pass the broccoli."

After nearly losing the will to live during that teeth pulling conversation, reading a book was all I had left in me after dinner. Rick sat next to me and after a few minutes he asked, "So do you have a crush at work?"

"Seriously, you want to keep this thing going tonight?"

"You started it."

"Okay, yes, my vibrator really likes my boss, Jim."

"Oh..."

Conversation killer.

***

For the next week I got continuous references to Jim this, Jim that. 'Jim can reach that for you.' 'Maybe Jim can give you a lift home.' That kind of nonsense. One night after dinner....

"I thought it might put a spark in our sex life to talk about our fantasies but all I seem to have done is irritate you. I'm sorry about that."

I started to collect the plates and clear the table when he said, "I have a lot of fantasies."

Instead of celebrating this minor admission I said flatly, not wanting to scare him off, "Oh?"

"I, ah, like to jerk off a lot."

I sat back down at the table, "Me too. As far as I know we can't be arrested for that." He chuckled a bit.

"What kind of things do you do in your fantasies?"

"Oh, lots of wild stuff."

"With Sandy?"

"Ya, Sandy and other girls."

"Do I know any of them besides Sandy?"

"I don't know. Ahhh, the shipping manager, Lana?"

"Oooo, she's got quite the rack." He chuckled again.

"Ahhh, oh ya, that girl at the bank, Brenda."

"Well I have to say you have good taste, she's gorgeous. Well what do you do with these girls?"

"All kinds of sex stuff," he said looking at his watch. "Oh, game's already started! Later on that, babe!" And he was off to the TV room. Attention span of a ten year old but at least we were making progress.

***

"Hey, Erica, another beautiful day at work because you're here," Jim said as usual.

I offered to take Dee to lunch again and she agreed even though she knew I'd want to talk about sex fantasies some more.

She looked around to see if the coast was clear. "Sure," she said, "I don't mind but you have to take an oath of secrecy. Okay?"

"Okay," reminiscent of my scouting days. I sat up straight in my chair.

"I, Erica, not to be confused with Erica on the fifth floor..."

I started giggling again while repeating the oath.

"promise to fucking keep our sex conversations between the two of us private..."

I was repeating but laughing and whispering more.

"...and not go blabbing 'you won't believe what Dee said!'"

Now I just lost it and got the words out the best I could.

"or else Dee may beat my ass."

At that point she lost it too and couldn't stop laughing. I took her hand for a moment and said, "Dee, I just love you."

"I am very lovable but don't break the oath."

***

At the restaurant I went on to recount my conversation with Rick from the night before.

"Wow, in light of your husband's crush, guess who else has a thing for Sandy?"

"No...please, no."

"Yes! Jim asked her out last week and they went someplace, Mary wasn't sure where."

"I won't be mentioning that to Rick."

"Did you mention your crush on Jim?"

"Yes and it bugged the shit out of him. But I will say he eased up once he admitted his own fantasies. He's just so much work.

"Can I suggest something," offered Dee, "that I've really gotten into and, if you like to write, or just read, it can be a real turn on?"

"What, coming into work naked?" I asked. We started laughing again. "I'm sorry, you were saying?"

"Erotica."

"Erotica? You mean you're reading erotica?"

"Yes, and I write quite a bit. I don't know about anyone else but I find it cathartic and a way to express my fantasies and have others enjoy the ride."

"But what if..."

"It's completely anonymous unless you choose otherwise. Some pieces are autobiographical, some fiction, some fiction wishing it was autobiographical."

"Dee, you bad girl," I teased her.

"I know but there's something about erotic storytelling that resonates with me. I think because it's not just the writer but the reader's imagination that interprets the writer's story. In a way, that vision is more powerful than a picture or video and in the end belongs solely to the reader."

"You've thought about this a lot."

"Oh ya. What I'm saying isn't anything we don't already do when we read but I feel an extra measure of intimacy and excitement when I read eroticism. I envision the environment, the way people look, their desires and arousal. Eventually I'm one with the sex act."

"Holy cow, Dee, you should be a college professor instead of typing shit for me and answering the phone."

"Think so?"

"Where do I go for this good time?"

"There's more than one site and instead of directing you to one I'd suggest you do a web search and find what works for you. You can usually surf anonymously and read some of the works."

"So I'm getting the hit that you don't want to tell me which one you're on."

"Well...no, I mean, you're technically my boss. We're getting used to each other as friends. I've already said too much. I'd be uncomfortable, at least right now."

"You're right, you're right. I'm sorry. I'm crossing a boundary. It was rude of me to ask."

"Erica, you're fine. I just need some privacy on this one. At least for now. We should probably get back to work because it's piling up on me and my boss might make me walk the plank."

***

After work I usually got home about an hour before Rick and did some searches on my laptop to see what Dee was talking about. Authors wrote on a variety of sexual topics, with different skill levels but, for sure, the primary goal was to arouse. I found myself getting engaged in a story and my free hand unconsciously sliding down between my legs.

I picked stories at random whose descriptions peaked my interest, a man encourages his wife to fuck his widowed neighbor, a woman fulfills her strong desire to be gangbanged. There were all sorts of gender bending stories, something for everyone's interest or taste. As long as no characters were under eighteen then it appeared nothing was taboo.

Stories and readers came from all over the world. Some people wrote of their actual experiences. One London woman wrote about her endless appetite for cock and I found myself wanting to be her, to act on almost any opportunity. It was so hot and deliciously slutty.

I wondered what if, like her, my boss called me into his office and bent me over his desk and ravished my all too willing body?

Out of curiosity I stepped out of my 'straight' lane and read stories about other groups and approaches but in the end we all shared the same desire for sex. We wanted to be satisfied.

Anyway, I registered with the site, made up a username and texted Dee for another fun lunch date.

***

"Hey, Erica, another beautiful day at work because you're here," Jim said as usual. "By the way, can you come in my office?"

[As I sat down across from his desk I watched as my boss's eyes followed me. This wasn't like the other times. His focus was on the hemline of my skirt. I subtly eased it up by slipping ever so slightly down in the chair and crossed my legs. We both knew what he wanted and I wanted to give it to him. Behind that desk he must be getting hard. All I could do was wait until he took me right there on his desk...]

"...and most of it depends on if you have the time. So what do you think?"

"Oh...what?"

"The write up on those mattresses. Have you got time to get that done?"

"Ya, oh ya. I'm sorry, of course I'll get that done. Anything else?

"No, that's it. Just do the usual great job you always do."

"Really?"

"Of course, we're a team," he said and I got up and went back to my lair.

I had lost it in his office. The erotic narrative in my head took over and I could barely focus on what he was actually saying. It was a cruel trick my hormones were playing and I'm sure it made me look like a space case. I thought of apologizing, making up some excuse but decided it was best to leave it alone. Maybe he hadn't noticed.

To calm down and get back to normal I went into one of the stalls in the women's bathroom and masturbated to climax.

During lunch I told Dee what happened.

"Oh girl, you've got the story going already," she said somewhat amused at my immersion into erotica. "Okay, I know what you're talking about and the best suggestion I can offer is compartmentalize. I do most of my writing on my phone because I can carry it around with me and if inspiration strikes and I'm free I can do something about it. Otherwise, no one knows I write erotica. Well, except for you and I trust you...I hope."

"So, compartmentalize."

"Yes, inspiration is always welcome, like Jim is a turn on for you so you can get ideas from that. But save your creativity for your precious alone time. Compartmentalize."

After I left Dee I popped out the word processor on my phone and jotted down some ideas. They say, write what you know and so for my first piece I focused on Jim and I. I had the fantasy hots for him but better than that I'd worked next to him for a few years and saw the nuance of his character. Bob, Bill, whatever, I hadn't really renamed the fictional Jim yet. Stanley? Paul? That's it, Paul.

And I'd have to rename myself as the alluring coworker. Hehe. Rebecca? Ashley? Yes, Ashley.

[After lunch, Paul was in his office and I was in mine. They were directly across from one another and leaving our doors open was not unusual but this particular day I wanted him to look at me. I willed his attention, to see me sexually, to see through our familiar roles to the heat between my legs. I unbuttoned my blouse a little farther and then pushed a pen off his side of the desk and bent over so he could get a good view of my tits...]

Shit. I slipped off the edge of my chair and landed with an awkward thud on the floor.

Of course, Jim ran over and helped me up, making sure I was alright. Instead of a sexy moment it turned into a clumsy pratfall. "I'm okay, really, thanks Jim."

"Your blouse..." pointing out that my top had come apart a little in the fall.

He left and right away I got a text from Dee.

'Calm down, don't fall down. Compartmentalize.'

***

My lunches with Dee were becoming more frequent and our friendship was growing stronger. For as much as I stumbled around trying to reconcile my fantasies with real life Dee was always there to give me some advice.

My sexual daydreaming bordered on obsessive and I was failing miserably at compartmentalization. "Maybe," Dee suggested, "the problem is you haven't published a single story. Excuse the analogy but maybe pushing one out, even if it's short, might relieve some tension. You'd be surprised at the level of gratification that can come from having other people get off on your creations. Besides, it sounds like you've got it half written already."

She was right, I knew where the story was going. It was just a matter of getting it down, so on my break I brought some of the pieces together and got the story moving along.

[...so he could get a good view of my tits. He looked over and took a long look at my cleavage. I wanted him to have a hard time turning away. I wanted him to struggle with wanting me and the tension of knowing my husband was in the building.

In a way I was cruel to tease him every day at work but I wanted him to fuck me so bad that I would torture him into having no choice but to risk discovery and drop his...]

A text from Dee popped up over the top of my phone. 'How's it cumming, Hemingway?'

'Just fine, don't bother me right now.' I replied.

'LOL. Remember, let your pussy tell you how well the story's going.'

She was right. During certain passages I felt my arousal. There was a knock at my door.

Jim stuck his head in, "Could I see you for a minute?"

"Sure," I said closing my phone, "come on in."

He stood next to me and put a paper in front of me, "Read this paragraph and tell me what you think."

I read the paper, occasionally distracted by how close he was. In my periphery I wasn't sure but it seemed like the bulge in his pants got larger. The way things had been going I chalked it up to rampant imagination, but then he put his hand on my back. That was weird. He'd never done that before.

"It looks great, right on the money," I said.

"Thanks. Just double checking my work. Hope you didn't hurt yourself in that fall."

"No, I'm such a klutz. I hope I look presentable again."

"You never have to worry about that. You're more than presentable all the time," and he closed the door behind him.

Had he just flirted with me?

***

That night when Rick got home from work he brought with him the hot traveling news that I had fallen out of my chair. Stupid, annoying gossip at the speed of sound added that I might have been drunk, might have Parkinson's, might have broken my arm.

"Assholes!" I said angrily, "I dropped a pen on the floor and slipped off my chair picking it up. That was all."

"I'm glad you're alright. I heard about it right before I left. I don't know why somebody didn't call me earlier. Where was that Jim of yours?"

"He's not MY Jim. Now stop that, Sandy fucker! But so you know, he and Dee helped me off the floor."

"I bet he did..."

"Rick, stop! I wish I'd never brought up the whole fantasy thing. I thought I was married to an adult. I thought we could have fun with it, spice up things, but I can see you're incapable of that."

I was sorry I bought it up. Dee was right in so many ways. Compartmentalize. Where I wanted to go with my fantasies, no one could truly go with me. Rick certainly wasn't someone who could do that. He was too insecure, too threatened even though he admitted to essentially doing the same thing.

Maybe he had a reason to be insecure. I obviously failed to mention that I'd intentionally unbuttoned my blouse before the fall. I compartmentalized that part.

I went in the bathroom for some space to write. Rick I formally renamed to Alan....

[Alan would occasionally come down and take me to lunch or say hello during our work day. When he did, almost without fail, I noticed Paul was nowhere to be seen. He would leave the office anytime Alan showed up.]