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Rose headed for the bathroom and, once there, glanced at herself in the mirror. She still felt a warm inner glow from her climax, and she saw that her face was slightly flushed. She raised her eyebrows and gave her reflection it a self-satisfied smile before going to the toilet. At the washbasin she reached for the liquid soap but hesitated. Despite her sense of shame at doing so, she raised her fingers to her nose and sniffed the residual eggy aroma of her boss' cum.
The bottle of liquid soap was new, and after a vain first attempt, the second produced a large spurt of cream-coloured, sticky soap into her hand. She was shocked that such a mundane thing took her mind back to what had happened just moments earlier, when another pale, sticky fluid had pumped onto her palm and oozed through her fingers.
She washed her hands and sought to compose herself, then made her way to the office that she shared with three colleagues. She placed the Jackman papers on her desk and offered to make coffee for her companions. Making the drinks in the kitchen proved a helpful distraction for her, as she refocussed her mind on her work, but when she gave out the drinks and sat at her desk, she felt a twinge of delight at having such a tawdry secret that they would never suspect. Rose stifled a self-satisfied smirk and pored over the spreadsheet in front of her.
__________
Unless she stayed late or managed to finish work early occasionally, she usually got stuck in heavy traffic, and this evening was no exception. On the congested and slow journey her mind drifted back to the liaison she had experienced with her boss.
She had engineered the whole thing, of course -- or nearly the whole thing. She felt genuinely sorry for Dan. Although he was highly regarded across the firm for his fairness and gentle manner, he had given her more leeway and support during her mother's brief illness and death than Rose could have expected. Her esteem and affection for him had grown as a result. She felt no romantic or sexual attraction for him; but she was genuinely fond of him, and was flattered rather than offended when she first noticed him looking at her.
Rose argued down her accusing conscience. She had acted out of a combination of genuine affection, pity, and gratitude, and sought nothing in return, certainly no fast-track promotion or anything similar. On the other hand, the seediness of a no-strings liaison with a married man sixteen years older than she was and for whom she felt no sexual and little emotional attraction did give her a sense of illicit pleasure.
When the idea had first come to her, she was shocked, and, shaking her head and with a stifled laugh, dismissed it, but little by little the idea had become a thought, then a plan, and finally a resolve.
The uncertainty and risks of how Dan would respond -- and how she would act as it unfolded -- had been an added thrill, but to be honest she had been in two minds right up to the moment of making her move. The one consolation was her planned opening gambit. She would make her move on the basis of him eyeing her up. If it all went wrong, he would have to take some responsibility himself..
__________
"It isn't really cheating..."
As well as telling herself that she wasn't really causing Dan to cheat on his wife, Linda, Rose repeated the words to herself when she thought of her new boyfriend, Sam. He was tall and fairly good-looking, kind, and great fun, and Rose hoped that it would develop. But for now, and until she was more sure of her feelings, Rose wasn't yet ready to have sex with him, and insisted on no touching "below the belt".
For this reason she had left him out of the equation for her planned seduction of her boss. It wasn't really cheating on Sam, she told herself. And... come to think of it, she added in self-justification, it wouldn't really be cheating on Linda if Dan yielded to her approaches. Not really, especially if they stopped short of going all the way. Besides which, she wasn't launching on an affair. It was just... a fling, that was the word. No-strings kindness and fun.
She had panned the whole thing -- almost.
Although she had intended all along to bring him off with her hand, she had originally planned to draw the boundary at letting him fondle her thighs below her dress hem, or perhaps play with her breasts through her dress, or perhaps even to go so far as letting him see her pussy without touching it.
As things progressed, she could, of course, have re-drawn the line at his stroking her pussy through her little panties; after all, he was the reluctant one. But, to her surprise (and upon reflection, shock), she had urged him to bare, fondle and explore her pussy, and even to slip his fingers inside her! Her very words of imploring flooded back to her, and gave her a shudder of guilty shame: "Give me your fingers, Dan... put three fingers into my pussy and finger-fuck me... oh yes, Dan, YESSS!"
But she had enjoyed his touch as much as he had, and her orgasm had been genuine and intense, the more so for being unplanned. She felt fulfilled that her plan had been enhanced by spontaneity, and remembering the words of her plea filled her with delight as much as with shock and shame.
__________
"It isn't really cheating..."
She silently repeated it when she spoke on the phone that evening to Sam. She told it to herself the next evening, too, as they sat on her sofa together to watch a movie on television. She silently reiterated it to herself again as Sam 's hand slipped from her shoulder to cup her sensitive, easily aroused breast through her tee shirt and sought her nipple through it. She told it to herself as their mouths met, and again as she pulled her tee shirt up over her head and cradled his head against her bra-clad orbs, murmuring softly along with him as he dragged her bra down to bare each orb in turn to torment it with kisses, nuzzling and sucking. She repeated the words silently at the end of the evening when she kissed him goodnight.
She almost believed the words. Yet after Sam had gone, she shook her head in slight disbelief that she allowed Sam to kiss her and to pleasure her breasts, but to go no further, despite having allowed her older boss, for whom she had no romantic feelings at all, to go so much further.
__________
Although she spoke to Dan several times each day about work, more than a week passed without either of them mentioning what had happened between them. Their first few conversations were slightly stilted, as they both strove to maintain an air of normality and professionalism and to pretend that nothing had happened between them.
Rose was now worried whether her seduction had left him racked with guilt. It also bothered her that their hitherto good workplace relationship had now been spoiled by her misguided actions. And although deep down she hoped to do the same again, she was determined now that she would make no mention of it again, and that he must now take responsibility for whether or not to continue the... affair wasn't the right word... the FLING.
Then, another few days later, Dan asked her to come to see him. He gave no indication what it was for. He gestured her to sit down and was clearly ill at ease, and she feared the worst.
"Er, Rose, to be honest, it was about our last one-to-one that I wanted to speak to you," he said in a matter-of-fact tone, though his voice sounded rather strained.
"Er... okay..." she replied, trying to sound non-committal, although anticipation -- and anxiety -- gripped her.
He looked briefly into her eyes, then averted his gaze. With a surge of guilty delight -- and hope that her fears might not be realised -- she noticed his eyes run over her breasts and then alight on her lap before fixing on the desk.
