The mood was festive as our team of four sat in the Applebee's close to the airport and drank to the closing of the deal. I stared at Karen with a smirk, wondering if she knew what I was so happy about.
In one late-night strategy session, we sat around wondering how we'd go about acquiring the Reynolds' small company. George Alistair Reynolds had proven a hard nut to crack, but while everyone else saw a small, inconsequential figure in his son, I saw an opening and suggested we work through him to convince Dad to sell. No one scoffed at my suggestion more than Karen, who laughed and exclaimed crudely, "Yeah, right. If that works, I'll get down on my knees and blow you!"
I jokingly responded, "Well you better start licking those lips Karen." The other two were shocked at our crude banter, but Karen and I had that type of friendship. It was, I expected, promptly forgotten; except by me. The fantasy that surrounded my relationship with my co-worker and friend had started that day with her snide comment. I understood that it was only just a fantasy though.
Karen was a happily married woman. Her and Eric had been married for twelve years and had two boys. She had gained some weight with Timmy, her second child, which brought the quiet, behind the back criticism of her male co-workers. I thought that was shameful and unprofessional. Besides, she had been 120 pounds for most of her life. I always thought she could stand to gain some weight. The extra twenty pounds, I thought, made her more voluptuous, especially considering the extra heft added to her formally athletic, relatively flat chest. To tell you the truth, it only made me fantasize about her more. It helped that many of her outfits for work had filled out and when she moved just right, you could see a lot more of her.
I looked over at her in the passenger seat on the way to the hotel and smiled. I caught a glimpse of her flowery bra showing through the exposure caused by her unbuttoning the top button of her blouse. The gift of flesh almost made me drive off the road as we moved our celebration from the Applebee's to the hotel bar. When she flipped her brown locks to press the phone to her ear, I could smell that alluring Chanel and it drove me closer to insanity. I watched her mouth move as she described our success to Eric and told her kids to be good. The great view only got better after she hung up. Karen turned to joke with the guys in the backseat, Harold and Turner, and I had a perfect view of her stockinged legs, her left one now pulled up in the seat. I reluctantly pulled myself away to make my own phone call prior to heading into our hotel.
Turner, an older African-American gentleman, excused himself almost immediately upon leaving the car. "Too much beer will make our flight home tomorrow a headache--literally." So it left me, Harold, or Hank to his friends, to escort the lovely Karen to the hotel bar for some more drinks.
The bar was pretty empty and dimly lit. An older Korean lady served the drinks from behind the long bar, though she seemed annoyed to have to put down her cigarette to do it. She seemed even more annoyed when we loaded up the jukebox with tunes. We could hardly care about her ire as we recounted our success. It was genuinely a great time. Harold risked that when he suggested old man Reynolds only agreed to the sale because he wanted to get into Karen's panties. The suggestion and the blatant use of the word "panties" took us aback, especially coming from the normally reserved Hank. Karen and I were the younger of the four and decidedly less refined in our professional demeanor, so hearing him say something like that was stunning a bit. Even so, we laughed at what he said, and continued celebrating.
Hank surprised us again when he held out his hand to Karen and asked her to dance. Karen looked at me and I gave her a "why not?" smirk as I put he the lip of my drink to my lips to cover my smile. Hank was not a small man. Many nights on the road eating fast-food meals before turning in had made him pretty overweight. His drinking tonight had made him sloppy. Even so, he had some pretty sweet moves on the dance floor which left us both impressed. It became even more interesting, though, when the music slowed. I laughed quietly and Karen looked back at me and smiled when Hank, Mr. Conservative himself, slipped his hands down her back and over the skirt that covered her ass. Slipping slowly into a drunken stupor, he was showing more and more of his figurative ass by holding Karen's. Much to my surprise, Karen just let him, at least initially.
By the third song, Hank's eyes were half-closed and it was very apparent that he was almost done for the night. It didn't stop him from running his large chubby hands further down until he finally cupped both of Karen's ass cheeks. Karen had been a good sport, but this was getting out of hand. She smiled politely and pulled one of his hands off and Hank promptly moved it to her breast. I stood up to break it up, but surprisingly got a wave-off from Karen, whose mouth opened in a quick inhale of surprise. Hank was lucky, first, to not get smacked, but second, to have his hand on one of Karen's luscious B-cups.
Hank finally crossed Karen's line, though, when he had slyly unbuttoned two more buttons on he blouse and attempted to thrust his hand in her shirt. She finally registered some annoyance and I quickly came in to grab him. Hank acted pretty surprised by the slight shove he got and my hand now on his shoulder. His eyes got big as if he suddenly realized his indiscretion at the sight of Karen rebuttoning her blouse. I mouthed "Are you okay," as I got under one of Hank's huge arms to steady him. She shrugged and smiled back at me as if to say, "no big deal," even though it was.
I held up a fifty to get the Korean bartender's attention which she answered with an angry scowl and put it on our table. I then began escorting Hank to the elevator and then to his room. Karen, in a display of utter kindness in light of what he had just done, took Hank's other arm, draped it over her shoulder and began helping me with the effort. Hank just shuffled along with his head hung forward.
We made it to his room and finally found his key card. By this time, Hank was mumbling loudly something about his ex-wife. He continued after we laid him on the bed. Karen and I stood at the end of the bed and just laughed at him. "So, you going to press charges?" I asked her.
"No, he's harmless. Just lonely and had a little too much to drink." she replied.
I couldn't stop the quip, "You or him?" She laughed and playfully pushed me. The physical contact, even as meaningless as her shove, felt nice. We both turned and walked toward the door when Hank allowed himself one more asshole act for the night. He sat up slightly and said with an eerie nonchalance, "Hey Karen. When you give Randy that blowjob for closing this deal, I wanna watch." He then went to sleep.
His statement left an uncomfortable silence between Karen and I for a couple of seconds. I had to rescue our good rapport quickly so I said, "Hey Karen, don't worry. I'm not holding you to that." The recovery worked because we both laughed heartily, if only to mitigate the awkwardness.
We walked into the hallway and I asked, "So, we going down to the bar again," hoping she'd say yes so I could at least try to match Hank's earlier efforts.
She unfortunately answered looking at her watch, "It's eleven-thirty. Our flight's not until four in the afternoon, but I want to go to the gym, take in all of our success over our delicious free continental breakfast." Her sarcasm did not escape me. I wished her good night and resigned myself that a romp with Karen would remain a fantasy. I'd have to rub out my frustrations in the shower tonight.
I turned on the television and watched SportsCenter as I removed my slacks and got to the third button of my shirt when I heard a knocking. I hadn't really thought about it, but it was the first time I'd noticed that Karen and my room were joined by a door between rooms. We'd been booked rooms normally reserved for families. I looked down at my boxers and thought that my appearance was pretty harmless. I turned the deadbolt and swung open the door.
Karen stood in front of me still wearing her high heels, skirt and blouse. She had unbuttoned the blouse to where Hank had previously had it. It looked like she was getting ready for bed. She asked, "Hey, does your hot water work because mine doesn't really?"
"I haven't checked it yet, but you can." I replied. She walked past me with her alluring Chanel tantalizing my nose and into the bathroom. She fooled with the water while moved to the head of the bed and promptly placed a pillow over my growing cock.
She came out of the bathroom and stated, "I may have to use your shower if that's alright. Yours seems to actually work." She paused for a second and looked at the sports highlights on TV as if trying to buy time. She then said softly, "I'm sorry to bug you but I'm not tired and wouldn't mind the company if you don't mind. Besides, it'd be nice to sit with the man of the hour."
"What do you mean by that?" I asked.
She then said as she sat at the office chair that faced the television, "I have to hand it to you. I really thought we'd hit a dead end and so did the rest. Your analysis and approach really sealed the deal. I'm very impressed.
"Whatever! Lucky guess Karen." I replied.
"Yeah, but this was our biggest acquisition." she responded.