His cubicle was just across from mine. On a normal day, I would tune out his stories. But today, I was curious, and couldn't help but listen. Would last night's experience become part of his lexicon of lust? Would I become one of the nameless conquests he bragged of to anyone who would listen? Needless to say, the answer was yes. What follows is my account of what happened, with his version of events interjected here and there. Since his tall tale is already spreading like wildfire, it's the least I can do to try to set the record straight.
*******
Another day at the office, another story from Derwin. In his cubicle, he'd manage to steer every work-related phone call off the rails into a discussion of his vast experiences. On a short break, or over a long lunch hour, he would position himself at the water cooler, ready to share his exploits with anyone who would listen, but especially with any pretty girl who happened to walk by. Delwood really was quite the legend in his own mind, regailing us with ever-more impressive stories of sexual conquests, each one less believable than the last.
His name wasn't actually Derwin or Delwood, I should clarify. It was Darren. Something about him reminded me of the character in the old TV series 'Bewitched', just enough that I had taken to playing with his name, both in my own head and when joking about him with others at work. I'm not sure what it was - whether that he never seemed to feel comfortable in his own skin, that he was a bit of a skinny and bumbling guy, or just the name 'Darren' itself. Anyway, it had actually become quite a bad habit - I sometimes just caught myself before calling him the wrong name!
Anyway, yesterday's tale had something to do with two, wait, no, three, beautiful women who lived in his apartment building. According to Darnell, they often hung out in the building courtyard late at night in their negligees, where he just happened to run into them on occasion. Recently, they had shared with him pictures of their latest lesbian orgy, and invited him to join them.
Right. What does he do, find this stuff on the internet each morning before coming to work? Does he actually think I'm falling for this? But I smile and nod, feigning doe-eyed trust, fighting the urge to giggle. First it was his seduction of the entire cheerleading squad in high school, and now he has half-naked lesbians chasing him around his apartment building in the middle of the night.
I decided it was finally time to have some fun with this. I called his bluff. Just as he brought his exciting tale to a close, I asked if he'd like to meet for a drink after work. He agreed. Little did he know, I planned to invite my roommate as well. We were completely different types - Jessie being dark and voluptuous, me blonde and svelte - but nobody would deny we were each sexy in our own way. We'd just see how confident he was when confronted with two hotties at once. Should be worth at least a chuckle to watch him squirm.
*******
Wow, Karen looks hot today. I love the way that sweater clings to her - I don't think she realizes I'm watching her breasts move as she breathes. And she's really hanging on every line of this story, obviously impressed that I kept my cool when talking with those three lesbians in my building.
"So, um, Darren, would you like to meet me for a drink after work tonight?"
"Sure, great, Karen, that sounds like fun. How about 6:30, that should give you time to get home and freshen up," I replied with a wink, before heading back to my desk.
Always nice to remind her who's boss - I would be ready for that drink anytime, but knew she'd need time to prepare. Once back in my cubicle, I pumped my fist. Finally - I knew I'd win her over!
*******
Jessie thought my plan was a great one - we'd both had a tough day at work, and it should be a fun way to unwind, teasing Darren over a few drinks. We met at our apartment after work, picked out our sexiest outfits, and hurried to the bar, hoping to be settled, laughing casually over our drinks, when he arrived.
We chose a couple of seats at the bar in plain view of the door. I was wearing my favorite little black dress, short to show off my legs and low-cut to emphasize cleavage. Jessie was wearing a black sweater that clung to her curves and designer jeans that fit her like a second skin. I kept my eye on the door, ready to toss my hair back and trace my leg suggestively with one finger, a gesture sure to intimidate my poor co-worker.
He was right on time. As he walked across the bar towards us, I had to admit that he was not at all unattractive. He had changed from the square suit he always wore to work to more casual attire, a shirt and khakis, and looked much more relaxed than I was used to seeing him. And though he was still a little skinny for my tastes, I noticed that Jessie did a double-take as well. OK, OK, so he cleaned up alright.
But much to my delight, he did seem nervous, distracted even, as he joined us. I knew it - the cheerleading squad, the late-night lesbians - these were the exaggerated stories of an insecure man. I motioned to the bartender to bring him a beer, and we started talking, Jessie and I playing up our sexiness, touching each other as much as possible, giggling at inside jokes. We'd have him backing away, calling it a night, in no time.
