Being lonely finally got the best of me. Two years passed since I had enjoyed the company of a woman. While I was overall enjoying a good life, the truth is that I missed the sexuality and presence of another person.
I found that and more in the most unlikely place and with the most unlikely woman.
I didn't realize how pronounced the need had become until about three months ago. My internal intrusive thoughts got the better of me. I work at a major distribution hub for a well-known retailer. While I typically spend most of my day processing data, I sometimes need to work sporadically on the distribution floor where fifty other people work. Many of the employees are female, and most are in good shape. During the warmer months, we can wear shorts and dress casually.
One woman in particular stands out. She's forty, with shoulder-length black hair. She's in fantastic shape for forty. She also talks like the typical man might in a blue-collar job. Her unapologetic style would get her into serious hot water at any other company. Here, it's normal.
Over the last few months, she's commented about needing more overtime or a part-time job. When summer started, I started going by the breakroom to get a soda. Kara sat in the corner. She wore a skimpy t-shirt that exposed a lot, especially if her arms were over her head lifting. Cindy, one of her floor coworkers, asked Kara about finding overtime.
Kara laughed. "I'm going to start giving handjobs for $25 if I can't get more overtime."
Cindy laughed. "$50 sounds more reasonable."
I laughed louder than I intended. Kara and Cindy both looked up from the table. Kara maintained eye contact a bit longer than I expected. I hurriedly retrieved my soda and left.
By Friday, as dumb as it sounds, all I could think about was Kara's tanned arm and fingers circled around my dick. Because of how fantasies work, I also imagined her sitting in my office without a shirt on as she did it. Around 9 a.m., Kara walked past my office door. She was talking loudly, as she always did. She was wearing black shorts and one of her favorite tank tops. So pronounced was my fantasy that I went to the back bathroom that almost no one used and jacked off. It only took twenty seconds. All I could imagine was Kara's hands on me, watching and waiting for me to cum. That's not entirely true. I also imagined her kneeling over my face as my tongue darted inside her.
By lunch, I was still horny. I went to the back lot, where several picnic tables were arranged. Most employees didn't bother going to the back because of the distance from the main breakroom. Truthfully, I also knew that Kara sometimes preferred to go out back because she could smoke without being scolded. I sat at the furthest table with my back toward the loading areas.
A few minutes later, I heard someone's shoes crunching on the gravel. I didn't turn. To my surprise, Kara sat down at the end of the table. She cupped her hand around her cigarette and lit it, drawing in a huge puff.
"Hey, John. What have you been up to?" Kara looked at me over the cigarette.
I was surprised. Kara had never gone out of her way to talk to me. Her sidekick Cindy always accompanied her.
"Work, work, work. How about you?"
Kara exhaled. I watched as the smoke drifted out of her mouth and nose. She leaned over the table. Though I knew I shouldn't, I looked directly at her bra. It was a black one with silver trim. When I saw her face, she was looking at me directly. I'd been caught.
Before I could make an excuse, Kara shrugged. "Trying to make ends meet, you know?"
I nodded, thankful she hadn't called me out for staring at her tits. In my defense, they were nice and firm. More than once, I'd seen her nipples poking through.
Kara leaned over even more. I avoided taking another look inside her shirt.
I can't explain what came over me. Even though I didn't take another look, something must have misfired in my brain. I never talk disrespectfully to a woman. The countless times the image of her stroking my dick must have shortcircuited my logic.
"Kara, if you need to make a little money, I have a way you can help us both." When the words left my mouth, I looked at Kara's face in horror. Saying such a thing could get me fired. I'm not anyone's supervisor, but such things can be taken out of context. That I had something specific in mind might not save me.
"How's that, John? We can't get more than ten overtime hours a pay period." Kara held my eyes.
I stuttered. "Well, I... you know..."
"No, I don't know, John. Spell it out for me." Kara took another drag from her cigarette as she continued to look directly into my eyes.
"I heard you and Cindy talking in the breakroom, and I..."
Kara cut me off mid-sentence. "So you thought you could just proposition me for a handjob at work? Just like that?"
Kara immediately stood up from the table. She flicked her cigarette across the gravel. Lifting her shirt, she put on display her tits. Her stomach was flat and lean. I gulped.
She returned her shirt to cover herself. "There you go, pervert. That's your answer."
I imagined Kara would immediately find Cindy and tell her what I'd said. My face flushed. Kara marched off and back inside the building.
I sat at the tables, worried. If Kara reported me, I would likely get fired. After being outside longer than I was supposed to be, I decided to go back inside and take whatever punishment I deserved for behaving so unprofessionally.
To my surprise, no one called or came by my office. Maybe Kara kept my indecent proposal to herself. The end of the day couldn't get there fast enough.
At 4:45 p.m., I realized I could stay until six without finishing my last to-do. Shutting down my computer, I turned to put something in my cabinet to the left. When I swiveled my chair back, I jumped.
Kara stood inside my office doorway, hands on hips.
"About earlier, Kara, I am so sorry..."
Once again, I couldn't finish my sentence.
"Relax, John. I'm not here to make you lose your job. If you do that, how are you going to pay me?" Kara smiled. It was an unusual smile, one conveying sarcasm.
"Pay you for what?" I had ideas of blackmail.
"For the handjobs, I'm going to give you."
I sat in my office chair, speechless. A tingle traveled down my spine, and my dick pulsed at the words she'd uttered.
She held up a finger. "Wait. We must discuss how much, how often, and where."
"You're actually going to let me pay you to jerk me off?" My voice sounded cracked.
Kara nodded. "You're going to wear a condom, for one. I'm thinking $50 each time. Agreed?"
I couldn't believe I was nodding my head affirmatively.
Kara turned and shut the door. She locked it.
I gulped. Kara came prepared. She pulled a condom from her back pocket and set her small purse on the floor next to the door.
"Stand up, John. I'll do the rest. If I'm going to do this, I'm going to make sure you have no complaints."
Kara put the condom between her teeth and pulled my belt loose. She then unbuttoned my shorts and yanked them down, along with my underwear. It felt absurd to be standing there with my shirt on and my pants down to my shoes.
My dick was already hard and standing out. Kara tore the corner of the condom packet and opened it. She reached for my dick with her left hand and expertly positioned the condom over the head of my dick. The sensation of her fingers on me was almost too much. She rolled the condom down as far as she could.
"Ready?" Kara smiled. She didn't wait for me to answer. She stood to my left and reached in front of me with her right. She began to squeeze and lightly pump me. No woman had touched me in over two years.
Kara looked at me from a slightly bent position and asked, "How's this?"
"Fucking fabulous. Thank you."
"Don't thank me, John. This is a business transaction. I do this for free a lot. Why shouldn't I get paid for it, too? I've given blowjobs in the bathroom for nothing."
Imagining Kara's lips on my cock was electrifying. She seemed to be "all in" where sex might be concerned. I'd heard stories.
Kara began to pump me harder. As she did so, the condom started to roll up. Her fingers moved it down two or three times, interrupting my concentration. Kara took her hand off me entirely and reached out to me with both hands, pulling the condom off. She tossed it in the trashcan and leaned over to pick up her small purse. She rummaged around inside and pulled out a small bottle of lube.
"I have to be prepared. Sometimes, it needs to be quick. Some men can't get me wet quickly enough. Once they are inside, though, that's another story."
She squirted some onto her right hand and set the lube on my desk. Her hand returned to my dick. This time, it felt warm and slick. Immeasurably better. I groaned as Kara's fingers pulled at me hard. She was in great shape, and her grip strength demonstrated that. Her fingers moved from the head back to the base as she stroked me. I had a few good handjobs in my life, but none compared to this. The dirty, taboo circumstances probably enhanced the sensations further.
Kara gradually sped up, alternating the pressure around me. After a minute, she let go of me and applied more lube to both hands. Even though it had to be a little awkward for her, she leaned over and used both hands to pump me. Having fingers pull and caress at the same time she circled my shaft made me groan and thrust my hips. The lube made it feel like someone's pussy enveloping me.
"Back up with your ass against the desk. You might fall over."
I did as she instructed. Kara's hands didn't leave me. Instead, she did a dizzying dance with her fingers, stretching, touching, and jerking me as if she had five hands. Every sensation in my body felt like it came from my dick.
Kara's hands worked on me, furiously touching and pulling.
"Fuck!" I shouted as the first spurt flew out of me and landed at least three feet away from my shoes. Kara laughed and pumped even harder, sending blast after blast of my cum out across the floors. Her hands became even slicker. As my orgasm slowed, she continued to pay tribute to my grunts and thrusts with enthuiastic fingers. She finally pulled long and hard along my dick, getting all she could out of me.
"Whew! That was the best I've ever had, Kara." I smiled.
"Well, you need better girlfriends, John. If they aren't aiming to make you scream, they aren't worth having."
