Last Night with You

Whose idea was it to stay up all night, anyways? Oh yeah, I guess that would be mine. Well, it seemed like an appropriate send off for our last night together. Our final hurrah together as a team. We'd only started working together a year or so ago, but with all of the long nights and late hours, it felt like longer. So much hard work, but plenty of fun mixed in.

Working in separate offices, we rarely saw each other in person, but when we did, we took full advantage. Long work days followed by casual dinners where the drinks flowed freely. And there was no early retiring to the hotel room, we partied like rock stars until the bars closed down and kicked us out. We got drunk, rambunctious, and a little flirty. Somehow you never managed to invite me back to your room, though I always kind of wanted you to.

Of course you wouldn't. Career-limiting move, they call that. I was your manager after all. An easy going, fun-loving one, but your manager none the less. And married. Both of us. Not a point to be missed in that, either. But there was always something between us.

I admired you so much. I felt like it was such a coup when I hired you to my team - you were so experienced, so smart, so connected. You knew what you were doing; far more an expert in your domain than I was. I was thrilled when you took the job, and loved getting to know you. You weren't exactly an open book - it took some time to get to know you and what lay beneath the surface.

And there was something about you that was just undeniably sexy. You commanded a room when you entered it. You were tall and strong, confident and humble in the same moment. I loved your bald head and your quirky glasses, with those bright blue eyes behind them. And just a little scruffiness on your face.

Though there was something that drew me to you from day one, it took a while before I let myself really start feeling attracted to you, to start thinking of you as more than a colleague, more than a friend. I always found myself crushing over my cute male colleagues, but somehow it felt a little different. I'm not sure if it was because I managed you, or because of who you were, that intimidated me a little bit.

But at our first conference together, I couldn't really deny it anymore. You just impressed me at every step with the work you were doing, with your leadership, with your humor, with your quickness to lift others up when you were the clear driving force behind our success. And when I told you how amazing I thought you were, in the middle of our team meeting, I felt like you could see straight through me. That it wasn't just your leadership I admired, but so much more. That it wasn't just that I was glad to have you on my team, but that I wanted a little something... More. And that night, when we were dancing and singing, I felt your eyes on me, and I thought for a second, I hoped, maybe you felt something too. But then in a flash you were off dancing and singing with some other girl, and my hopes were dashed.

And so we went back to work, away from each other, but still on video calls every week. I felt like, on our first one after that meeting, we were a little awkward. Kind of staring at each other not knowing what to say. Lots on our minds, or at least on mine. I didn't want to tell you how I felt a spark, a connection between us. How I spent that night after our first little flirtation thinking of you, imagining what it would be like to be with you.

But somehow we just got back in our regular rhythm, our work-mode, friendly space. And we rolled with it for six months, until our next conference. Again so much work leading up to it, and pulling it off. A feeling of relief when the long days would end and we could take a break, let off some steam. More late nights together, more slight flirtations. Looking for excuses to casually touch each other, so our colleagues didn't catch on. Almost so much that even we weren't really sure if it was happening for real, or just in each of our own heads.

But I wanted it more this time, and I sensed that you did too. The way you looked at me, your gaze held just a second too long. I wondered what was in that head of yours. Did you spend time thinking about me too? Fantasizing about what it would be like? To kiss, to touch, to be together? There were many, many nights at those conferences and between them, when I would find ourselves together in my head, thinking of a thousand different ways it might start. Ways we would find ourselves alone together. Words one of us would say to break the ice, to let the other know what they wanted. I brought myself a lot of satisfaction with those little fantasies. Safe satisfaction. Not hurting anyone. No need to report anything to HR. No need to wreck anyone's marriage. And then looking at you, the next time I saw you, knowing the dirty things I thought in my head... I couldn't help but smirk a little. Were you doing the same?

But when we found ourselves alone in my hotel room, grabbing a bottle of wine or a conference folder or whatever other excuse I used to lure you up there, nothing happened. Maybe I wasn't luring you after all. Maybe I was just cracking a door a tiny sliver to see if you might step in. Into this fantasy world with me. We even took a minute to go on the balcony and look at the city lights across the river. I mean, I basically brought you to make-out point, like some horny teenager, and... Nothing. Ugh! Sexual frustration at its peak. Maybe it was all in my head. Maybe better that way, anyway.

And again, another several months until we were together for this last conference. It was nice, this time, to have a smaller role, to enjoy as participants rather than just planners. We got to let our hair down a little more. And we got so much more time together. Meetings, dinners, drinks, parties. I just had so much fun with you. I felt like I was finally getting to know you better, to joke with you, to just enjoy each other's company. We knew it would be our last one - the writing was on the wall - we were both going to be let go in the latest downsizing. Maybe that's why we let our guards down. We were vulnerable. We needed each other to commiserate.

God, I had a blast with you. Night after night of drinking, karaoke, late night diner meals, and shenanigans of all sorts. And the flirting... It started out tentative but definitely ratcheted up as the days passed, as the late nights grew later. I think I finally felt it for sure. Knew that you wanted me in the same way I wanted you. Maybe we both just finally let ourselves be a bit more open, knowing this was the last time we might ever see each other.

I had a dream about you while I was napping that last day. It was less than innocent. I woke up wet, longing for you. And so I touched myself, as I had so many times before, with the thought of you. The thought of you kissing me, gently at first, and then with passion and fury. Feeling my fingers, oh, but were they yours, sliding up and down my body, grazing my breasts, pinching my hard nipples. Imagining your eyes staring into mine as you worked your way down my body with your mouth, until you were between my legs, just your glasses and your shiny head in view, as you grinned and started exploring me with your tongue. The thought of it still gets me so hot.

But alas, still all in my head. Of course it made me crazy to see you, I could barely wait. That night, when we finally found each other after our company's big celebration performance, I felt like I was a blabbering fool. I needed some booze to calm my nerves, to keep me from doing something completely inappropriate in front of dozens of our colleagues at the bar. But as the night went on, and the group dwindled to just a few of us, I felt the fire grow even hotter. We looked at each other so much longer, sang together, laughed together, flirted beyond all abandon. Hopefully everyone else was too oblivious to notice. Because it was beyond obvious to me. It took a few hours until we finally said goodbye to everyone and lingered in the hotel lobby.

I'd convinced you to stay up all night with me. But what were we going to do, the two of us, in this deserted hotel lobby, with no where to go, our respective rooms occupied with roommates. But it was clear we wanted to be together, to spend more time with one another, and so we found a quiet spot and just started talking. I sat so close to you, my knees bent so they were brushing against your legs. You put your hand on them, and we looked at each other and couldn't look away. There was no more mystery. No more denying feelings. This was real. For both of us.

And still, neither of us was ready to take the leap, to put words to it, or actions beyond the obvious flirtation. We made small talk, though it got more intimate, more personal as the minutes ticked by. After a half hour or more like this, there was only about an hour til dawn, til you had to go back to your room, to get ready for your flight. And then you did it. You took a leap and said something about feeling something between us. I tried to act dumb, "what do you mean?" "Oh," you said, "I think you know." And then you just looked at me. For what felt like twenty minutes, without breaking your gaze. Jesus, I could get swallowed whole by that stare.

And I was flattered. So excited that you felt the same way I did, and that I finally knew it. After all these months, fantasizing about you, here you were telling me what I wanted to hear in all those moments. But of course I still didn't think anything would actually happen. Remember, that whole married thing? I had faced flirtation before, had reveled in it, playing the tease, "Oh no, how could I possibly do that?" I knew I could do it. But somehow it felt different with you. More intimate, more personal. Maybe because I'd wanted it for so long. Maybe because I admired you so much as a human being. Maybe because I thought there was no way this would ever happen because you're so earnest and good and loyal- you wouldn't cheat on your wife either. Would you?

And so I felt safe, even after those words were spoken, that we were still living in some sort of fantasy. How could anything happen anyways? We're in the middle of a hotel lobby, where hundreds of our colleagues are staying. Serious career limiting move, even if our careers were already nearly over at this company. And then, as we were sitting there, hands intertwined, legs touching, sitting far too close together, the lobby started coming back to life. All those people up early to catch the first flight out. They came down with their suitcases and lingered for a minute before heading out to cabs. This was now dangerous. It was obvious by how close we were sitting, even if we weren't actually doing anything.

And so you suggested we sneak away into a smaller room off the lobby. A library of sorts, in a chain hotel sort of way, but full of couches and corners, which might have been exactly what we needed. Or didn't need, I guess, depending on your perspective. I thought we were just going to do more of the same when we moved over there, but, well, it suddenly became a lot harder to keep things at a mild flirtation.

We shared a love seat, I was practically in your lap. We just looked at each other for a long time, talking. I was saying how much I wanted this but how I knew it was a terrible idea. I didn't want to be that woman. An adulteress. I loved my husband; we had a good life. I truly never, ever imagined cheating on him, even when I was flirting with and fantasizing about other men. Of course you agreed. You loved your wife as much as I did my husband. But somehow, you seemed less worried. You'd already confessed your feelings. What difference was it to bring them to fruition now? I tried and tried to behave, to take it just to that line, and back away. But I couldn't. I just could not pull away from you.

Our faces moved closer, our breath mingled. I turned my head away slightly, pushing the line, not crossing it. Then our foreheads were pressed together and we were staring into each others eyes again. I gave you my cheek, not my mouth- I couldn't kiss you. This wasn't about to happen. Your beard brushed my cheek, and then you were onto my neck. How did you know my weak spot, my Achilles heel? Your breath was warm on my skin, and I wondered, is this how it happens? I felt your lips brush my neck, almost a half-kiss. Then your tongue, just a tiny bit, a taste of what could be. By the time you came back up to my lips, I was lost, drunk, delirious with you. I couldn't hold out any longer. When you went in for the first kiss, I didn't even hesitate. I gave myself to you, our lips parting, our tongues touching, exploring. We didn't come up for air for a few minutes. And of course when we did, I gave you a sheepish look and said something about how I couldn't believe we were doing this, that this was actually happening. And then, without skipping a beat, we dove back in, our mouths, our tongues moving with such pent up passion and desire. God, it felt amazing.

Oh, I wanted you so much in that moment. I could have ripped your fucking clothes off right in that lobby. Why didn't we have anywhere to go, to take things further? My mind certainly went there. Imagined my hands running along your body, under your clothes instead of over them. Feeling every hard inch of it. Discovering every nook and cranny with my hands, my lips, my tongue. Feeling you exploring mine. I wanted to be with you, fully, completely, to feel you inside of me. To move together in a hot, sweaty rhythm until we were both trembling at the peak of excitement. Why, why, why couldn't we do this right now?

Eventually you broke away from the embrace. It was time, really time, for you to go get ready for your flight. I knew it had to happen, but it was so hard to let you go, watch you walk away. And as you left, I felt both a fluttery lightness in my belly, and the impending wave of guilt creeping up on me. The longing to be going with you, and the dread of knowing I had to fly home alone, back to my husband, along with the new baggage I claimed as an adulteress.