I should not be sharing this story. I'm married, a mom, and most importantly, a Christian. But I wasn't always those things. Once upon a time, I was a recent divorcee who had just moved to a new town. I thought I was a Christian then, but didn't go to Church, so who was I kidding? But I'm Christian now and I shouldn't be thinking of the past, but I do. When I'm with my husband, whom I love, sometimes I'm thinking of Russ or even worse, Rayna. But I'm getting ahead of myself. I'm hoping writing this out will get it out of me and I can move on. But even as I write that, I know I'm lying to myself. I'll end up touching myself while I write this. I shouldn't. But I know I will. At least I can be that honest if I try.
Russ and I worked together in a situation that involved a lot of physical interaction and trust. We both like to joke around and hit it off very quickly. Everyone joked around to be fair, this was 20 years before "Me Too" culture made people aware that not everyone liked to joke that way, but I like to think that our small group all enjoyed it. Consensual was a word I was familiar with from the scene I was in before my first marriage, but it wasn't used for flirting and dirty jokes back then. We all participated, that's for sure. There were seven of us in the department and the other two women and I were all up for a laugh. But if I'm being honest, I always took it the furthest. I'm built for sin and I played into it. Think a more voluptuous Marilyn Monroe. Before my marriage broke up (which is what happens when you find out your husband is gay), I had posed for some boudoir photos to turn my husband on (surprise, it failed). I felt so safe at work that I showed the pictures to everyone. The guys all had a little lust in their eyes, the girls complimented how cute I looked. But I guess Russ saw more than I realized. He saw what I needed, I think.
His flirting when up a level after I shared my pictures. He'd stare intently at me and I'd melt. He very quickly noticed my reactions. He found it entertaining. He really enjoyed watching me try to hide my reactions from those around us. He would run ice up my leg while "tying his shoe" or pull my wrist tight behind my back, just to watch me catch my breath. I don't now how he read me so easily, but he hit on my desire to be dominated. He'd grab my wrists and hold both at the same time with one hand and I'd feel myself getting wet. And when I get wet, I really get wet. I never wear panties, even now, because I get too wet and don't want an infection from walking around with damp panties.
The turning point was the time that we were all headed out for drinks after work and we were the last ones leaving the office and he stopped and turned to me. I jokingly went to push him and pressed both hands against his solid chest. In a flash he grabbed me by my wrists, spun me around (with no resistance, so it wasn't hard) but then lifted my wrists as far above my head as he could, moved me across the room and spun me again, pinning me to the wall. I gasped and bit my lower lip. He just stared into my eyes and then pulled my wrists higher, forcing me up on tip toes. He moved his mouth against my ears and whispered, "Oops, your nipples are hard." Then let go and walked out. I couldn't move for a few seconds. When I could, I locked the door behind him and hiked up my dress and started to masturbate. I was just picturing his eyes while sliding my fingers down over my clit furiously. I don't know if it was 10 seconds or 10 minutes, but I could feel my pussy dripping down my thighs and as I got to the edge of the cliff I slipped three fingers into myself and came hard. When I finally came down from my high I realized I was sitting in his chair. I still don't remember sitting down.
I washed up in the restroom and headed to the bar to meet everyone. Russ had left an empty seat near him. I sat with him and we all chatted like normal, joked like normal, but nothing was normal. Russ was married. I'd met his wife in passing, but didn't really know her. But maybe if I did, I wouldn't be thinking of jumping on her husband. So I brought her up in conversation. Got him talking about her. Then Andy starting talking about his wife. It became a very wholesome conversation, until Gary started complaining about his wife. He had a little more to drink than he should have and started oversharing. Alice jumped up and grabbed his hand and suggested pool. Lisa and Andy joined them, leaving Jon, Russ, and me at the table. I don't remember what we talked about, but eventually Jon went to watch the game.
I took a long drink and whispered, almost to myself but loud enough for Russ to hear me, "I probably left cum stains on your chair."
"Tell me about it," he growled. That's not what I expected. I thought I'd get an upper hand, but he just took in stride like he expected me to say it. And like that, I was lost. I thought I was in charge for a second, but he was, I was his, I was wet, and I had to do what he said.
"When you held my wrists, I got so wet. Then when you talked about my nipples, I knew I had to cum. So I touched myself. I sat in your chair and I touched myself."
"Did you play with those perfect tits? Did you pinch your nipples so you could feel them throb? Did you pretend I was doing it?"
"No, I didn't. My nipples aren't that sensitive," I took another drink and tried to regain control. "Are you hard now? Will you touch yourself?"
"Yes and no," he said, taking a sip of his beer like he had all the time in the world, "I'm going to go home and make love with my wife."
