The next few weeks passed in a haze of monotony and slowly simmering tension. Karla threw herself into her work, determined to ignore the persistent ache of arousal that throbbed between her thighs whenever Ted was near. She limited their interactions to a bare minimum, keeping their conversations strictly professional and their physical distance wide. But despite her best efforts, Karla couldn't seem to escape the magnetic pull of Ted's presence. It was like he was always there, always seemingly just around the next corner as she briskly walked to the break room and back. She began timing her trips to the bathroom based on when she knew Ted should be in a zoom meeting.
And yet, as awkward as those situations had become, she could help but feel her tummy flipping every time she'd brush up against him in the tight hallway, her pulse quickening when she would inevitably find herself walking into the cramped file storage area while Ted was there. She'd sense his eyes on her as she bent over the filing cabinets, practically feeling his caress on her ass. His eyes betrayed a barely leashed hunger everytime they found themselves alone together. He wanted her.
She knew this was oh-so wrong, but god help her a part of her relished the attention, the illicit thrill of being wanted so blatantly. The way Matt used to! Not so long ago, before reality and the monotony of being married to a grad student had strangled the lust out of their young marriage. While Matt's obsession with his research grew, Karla found herself becoming increasingly obsessed with Ted's attention. She knew it was wrong, knew she should shut Ted down hard and cold before things escalated. But the wicked voice in her head kept whispering "what's the harm in a little looking? A little fantasizing? It's not like you're actually going to do anything..."
So Karla let herself indulge in increasingly lurid daydreams, spinning out elaborate scenarios of stolen kisses and frantic couplings in shadowed corners. In her mind, the isolated filing attic at the rear of the building where she and Ted often crossed paths became a setting of fantasy. She imagined Ted's hands on her body, calloused palms rasping over her sensitive nipples, clever fingers dipping skillfully into her dripping pussy. She imagined his mouth worshipping her breasts, his tongue flicking over the stiffened peaks until she was mindless with need. She imagined his thick cock splitting her open in ways Matt never had, stretching her, filling her, claiming her with every deep, ruthless thrust. The fantasies left her panting and shaky, thighs clenched against the insistent throb of her arousal.
More than once, Karla found herself locked in the single-stall bathroom, skirt hiked up and panties shoved aside as she worked herself to a shuddering climax. She tried to picture Matt as she touched herself, but inevitably her mind would drift to piercing blue eyes and sinful smirks, the faint scent of Ted's cologne as she scooted past him in the hallway, careful to turn away lest her hardened nipples reveal her arousal. clever hands and filthy promises whispered in her ear. In the feverish sanctuary of her imagination, it was Ted's fingers plunging deep into her aching pussy, Ted's palm grinding against her swollen clit, Ted's husky voice urging her to let go and come for him like the wanton creature she was. It was these thoughts Karla held in her mind as she let wave after wave of orgasmic bliss wash over her.
The guilt was crushing in the aftermath, a lead weight of shame and self-loathing in her gut. What kind of depraved slut got off to fantasies of cheating on her husband? What sort of ungrateful bitch lusted after another man when she had a perfectly good one at home? Karla would splash cold water on her face and vow to lock down these rogue desires, to be the faithful wife Matt deserved. She had to be the strong one! But then Ted would brush up against her in the supply closet, his chest a warm solid wall at her back, and all her good intentions would evaporate like smoke. The smallest contact, the barest hint of his masculine heat and spicy cologne, and Karla was right back to the start, a mindless creature of want and need.
It was maddening, this push and pull of primal hunger and crippling guilt. Karla felt like she was coming apart at the seams, unraveling bit by bit with each passing day. She felt herself sliding, day by day, further down the slippery slope. The only thing keeping her tethered to reality was Matt, her steady rock, her anchor in the storm. Her one and only true love...right?
Except lately, even Matt was starting to feel more like a distant memory than a present comfort. He was always holed up in the lab or buried in his textbooks, his mind a million miles from their cramped apartment and lonely bed. The rare times he was home, he was so preoccupied with his research that he hardly seemed to see Karla at all. She'd become a ghost in her own marriage, fading away a little more each day, starved for just a taste of the attention her husband lavished on his precious research papers. She tried not to resent him for his dedication, tried to be understanding of the demands of his program. But as the weeks dragged on and the distance between them grew, Karla couldn't help but feel like an afterthought in her own marriage. A supporting character in the grand drama of Matt's life, rather than the leading lady she used to be.
It all came to a head one rainy Thursday afternoon, when Karla was elbow-deep in a stack of badly organized invoices. She'd been at it for hours, her eyes crossing and her back aching from the hunched position. All she wanted was a strong cup of coffee and a momentary escape from the fluorescent glare of the office.
As if summoned by her thoughts, Ted appeared in the doorway of the mailroom, two steaming mugs in hand. "Thought you could use a pick-me-up," he said with a lopsided smile, holding out one of the cups to her. "You've been going at those invoices like a woman possessed."
Karla hesitated, eyeing the coffee with a mixture of gratitude and wariness. She knew she should refuse, should keep her distance from this man who muddled her mind and stirred her blood. But the enticing aroma of freshly brewed arabica was too much to resist, and really, what was the harm in a little caffeinated kindness?
"Thanks," she murmured, taking the mug and cradling it between her palms. The first sip was heaven, rich and dark and perfectly sweetened. Karla couldn't hold back a little moan of appreciation, her eyes fluttering closed in bliss.
When she opened them again, Ted was watching her with an intensity that made her stomach flip. "I like seeing you like this," he said softly, his gaze dropping to her mouth. "All relaxed and satisfied. It's a good look on you."
She felt that familiar flush creep up her neck whenever he came near, her traitorous body responding to his presence despite her mind's protests. "Ted..." she started, a warning note in her voice, but he held up a placating hand.
