Connie and I have been married for seventeen years. Mostly they have been happy years. Like most couples, we've had our share of rough spots. That's to be expected. Some spots were rougher than others. What mattered was how they were handled. Some of ours required a lot of finesse, especially some of the recent ones.
We met at work. It was a typical office romance. We were assigned to a project together. There were others on the team, but she and I thought alike on several aspects of the task.
We often worked late to figure out how to get everyone else to try our ideas. One night we had a pizza delivered to the office. Our boss got wind of our obsession with the job and prohibited us from working late again unless there was an emergency. He was probably right. Neither of us had had a date for three months. I was lucky to find time to do my laundry. The next night we thought we could cover our tracks by going out for dinner. To make it look like a real date, we went to Lord Winston. Maybe it was the atmosphere of the restaurant, but we had a hard time thinking about the project. Our conversation became more and more personal. By personal, I don't mean intimate. It was a getting acquainted conversation talking about things like background, number of siblings (We each had an older brother.), where we grew up. We had been working intensely together for three months, but we knew nothing about each other.
Lord Winston is made for lovers. There are no tables, just booths. It's impossible to see any other diners. The dividers reach almost to the ceiling. The tablecloths hang almost to the floor on the front of the tables and cover the laps of the customers. You could be naked from the waist down, and no one would know. The seats are plush. They have the most discreet wait staff. I've heard rumors of couples having sex in the booths, and the servers didn't even blink. Business as usual, I suppose.
I ordered a bottle of champagne to celebrate the progress that we had made on the project. As we raised our glasses, our eyes met. Suddenly the project was forgotten. We were on opposite sides of the booth. That was too far apart. I slid around toward her, and she moved toward me. We met in the middle. "Bryan," she said apprehensively, "do you think I'm attractive?"
"I...." I couldn't speak. My tongue tripped over my eyeteeth. "Yes," I finally muttered. "Do you...." Where was my confidence when I needed it? All the time that I had been lamenting my lack of a social life, I had been so engrossed in work that I had failed to realize that I had been with a beautiful woman. "...find me attractive?"
"Oh, yes. I've been wondering when you'd ask me out."
"I didn't think you'd be interested. You know the rules about fraternization. Actually I never thought about this as a date. We are both very vested in this job. It can mean a lot for our careers if we pull it off. I figured we could get around Charlie and his order to ease up on the work."
"Those rules are for people on different levels. Besides, I think he has a good point. We've gone at this thing hot and heavy for three months. He doesn't want us to burn out."
"We have burned a lot of midnight oil." I stopped uncertain of what to say next. Mostly I was unsure if I should say what I had in mind. "Your boyfriend is probably wondering if you dropped off the face of the earth."
It was her turn to hesitate. "I don't have a boyfriend. I haven't been with anyone for six months. What about you?"
"I don't have one either. I mean I don't have a girlfriend." She grinned at my faux pas. "Lately I've been looking forward to going to work for the companionship as much as for the work. I love what we're doing, but it isn't enough. There's no chitchat about weekend activities or joke telling. Parents don't talk about their children."
"In other words you haven't been getting laid." My face burned. Connie was right; but I didn't see her as a girlfriend. The job was clouding my vision. She was attractive. She had the tits men lusted after. Her deep blue eyes complemented her silky blonde tresses. A man would be crazy not to want to lie between her long legs. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to embarrass you. My own hormones were talking. You are right about our careers. I'm not in the mood for a relationship, and I don't think you are either." I shook my head. "We are still adult human beings with adult needs. We are a good team at work. I don't know why we can't be a good team off the clock too."
"That sounds like a marriage proposal."
"No, it's a partnership proposal as bed partners: as friends with benefits. We're both horny. Neither of us has any prospects at the moment. At least I don't."
"Me either," I mumbled.
"Why don't we help each other get rid of the frustrations of celibacy? We both could use a good conquest: a plain old fashioned, no commitments, fuck."
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "That's one thing I like about working with you. You're so pragmatic, so logical, so practical. You take a problem, analyze it, and present the solution in a manner that precludes discussion. I have only one question."
"Your place tonight; my place next time. I brought my toothbrush."
I had never been propositioned like that. A few women had come on to me before, but they put a little romance into it. With Connie it was more like an invitation to go bowling. Sex and a business plan were just problems to be solved.
She excused herself to go to the ladies' room. When she came back, she seemed different somehow. I couldn't figure out what it was. She hadn't changed clothes. Her makeup was the same. Maybe I was looking at her differently. She was no longer just a colleague; she had become a girl. When I thought she wouldn't catch me, I peeked at her boobs. She still had her bra on. She caught me and smiled.
I was nervous as hell, and I couldn't understand why. I wasn't a virgin. It was plain she wasn't either. Sex wasn't anything new. Many times I had dated a girl simply because she had a reputation for putting out. Now someone I had no previous interest in, romantically or sexually, had propositioned me, and I was terrified. I couldn't talk; my hands shook. Every few seconds Connie giggled. To make matters worse, I had a hardon.
After what seemed like hours, I finished my dinner. "You know this place has a reputation to maintain," she said softly as she wiped her lips on her napkin.
"So I've heard," I muttered.
"We wouldn't want to ruin it," she whispered as she opened my fly, "would we?"
I had never met anyone as brazen as her. She extracted my stiff dick from my pants with one hand while slipping my napkin over my lap with the other. Her aggressiveness was unbelievable. She must have been hornier than me. Her fingertips traced the veins on my cock. My breathing instantly became deep and rapid. She certainly knew what she was doing. I let my head flop against the seat back. There was no point in trying to resist. I was too hot to care about propriety. Her hand lightly stroked my shaft. "How does that feel?" she whispered.
"Mmmm," was all I could muster. My eyes closed. I felt her head against my shoulder and her lips on my cheek. Connie's hand slipped up and down my dick. Her free hand entered my pants and cupped my balls. After a couple minutes, her head moved downward. Her lips encircled my dick. My breath quickened as she turned her mouth into a vacuum cleaner. Within a minute my nuts tightened, and my seed spurted down her throat. My panting was louder than I thought proper in public, but I couldn't control myself as she swallowed every drop.
When my balls stopping pumping, she sat up and pasted her lips to mine. Her tongue lightly flicked across my lips making me gasp. As my mouth opened involuntarily I could taste my own salty spunk in hers. "My turn," she whispered.
She took my left hand and placed it on her inner thigh. Her legs parted as my fingertips traced a line up her leg to her pussy. I found what had been different about her when she returned from the rest room; her panties were missing. Her slit was already open, and I found her clit with ease. I glanced around quickly while I picked up some of her juices on my fingers. No one was around, so I became bolder as I stroked the edges of her pussy lips. She gasped each time I passed her stiff little member. I slipped my finger into her dripping opening, and her body trembled.
When her shaking ceased, I lifted her leg as I slid back from her a bit. She looked around quickly, then laid back on the seat with her legs splayed wide apart. I lowered my face to her downy snatch. My tongue replaced my finger. The nectar that flowed from her body was sweeter than honey. Eagerly I lapped it up; my tongue worked feverishly. Her breathing rate accelerated. Her body shook as orgasm after orgasm swept through her. With each one she became more vocal until she cried out in ecstasy and her thighs clamped against my head.
When we sat up, our check was on the table. I put enough money in the payment wallet to cover the bill plus a generous tip. "You did say my place?" I asked as I moved around to the end of the seat.
"That's right," she said. "Aren't you forgetting something?"
"I don't think so."
"Your zipper." I looked down to see my semi-erect dick sticking out of my pants. She smiled as I stuffed it back in and closed my fly.
We drove to my place in silence. Connie was relaxed, but I was a nervous wreck, and it didn't make sense. I had gone out with dozens of women solely because I knew they would put out. This time I was the one putting out. I previously hadn't seen her as a sex object. She was pretty; there was no arguing that. Beautiful would be a more accurate term. Sexy would be even better. Any sane man would want to sleep with her. To this day, I can't explain why I was so apprehensive.
