This story, as are most of my stories, has characters that are not fashion models or dashing hunks. If you prefer reading about those kinds of people, you will not enjoy this story. This is just about everyday people, this kind you work with and live nearby, and to me they are the more interesting people to write about.
***
"If I tell you something, do you promise not to laugh?" my co-worker asked me as she leaned back into the padded booth, and after I swore that I wouldn't, Sally told me that she had a confession to make.
"When you first came to work with us," Sally confided. "I had a crush on you. Big time."
"Really?"
"Yep!" Sally said, tipping the wine glass once more, and after draining the remnants, added that, "Stupid way to put it, isn't it? A woman my age having a crush on somebody?"
"Not really. I'm incredibly flattered," I said, and because Sally was such a friendly person I hadn't even considered the notion. "I had no idea."
"Well, you were already with - you know - and I had just gotten over my fiasco," Sally said as she made a face.
The fiasco Sally referred to was her discovery that her husband had been having an affair throughout much of their marriage. What made it worse, in her mind at least, was the fact that it was a man that he had been seeing, and she had probably taken it even worse than if it had been another woman he had been with.
Since then, Sally had put all her energy into raising her daughter, who was now grown and off on her own, while as for myself, I had lost my wife Amy in a horrible traffic accident a few years back and had been drowning my sorrows in a very unhealthy way, only recently beginning to straighten my act out.
"Well, it was probably just as well I didn't know," I concluded. "Interoffice relationships get frowned on in the salt mine."
"Not if you're careful, although I wouldn't know about that myself" Sally said as she nodded at the waitress when she asked about having another. "How about you, Jim?"
"I'm good with this," I said, having milked my vodka in a responsible manner for a change.
"Maybe if you drank enough I'd look better to you," Sally said, laughing as she leaned up against me. "Whoops!"
"Don't fall," I said.
"I won't. If I did, you'd need a crane to get me back up."
I shook my head at Sally's attempt at self-depreciating humor, something that she was even better at than I was. You see, Sally has a weight problem. She's what I would call a little butterball, packing what is probably about 40 pounds too much on her 5 foot frame, and while she isn't what you would call morbidly obese or anything, she is definitely plump.
Since I could stand to lose 20 pounds myself, I was in no condition to critique her and would never even think of it, but that never stopped Sally from pounding on herself.
To be honest, while I could never say that I had a crush on my co-worker, I would have to admit that there was something about her looks that attracted me. I've always found women that aren't exactly your traditional model types to be more interesting in general than those with a lofty opinion of themselves.
Sally's skin was slightly dusky, which I attributed to her heritage, which had to be at least part Italian, given the maiden name that she had reverted to after her divorce. Along with that nicely toned skin came at least some of the characteristics that go along with many women with that lineage.
Sally's eyebrows were rather thick and full even with the grooming she seemed to have been doing, and she also that a fine down - some might call them sideburns although the hair is quite fine - in front of her ears and sweeping around underneath, and since Sally's hair is black it stood out a bit more that a lighter color would.
When I first started working with Sally, I recall that she had rather hairy forearms, but somewhere along the way she must have had them waxed or shaved, because now her plump arms were virtually hairless. I understand the reasons behind doing that but I confess that not only does the presence of hair anywhere on a woman's body not offend me, but in fact arouses me a great deal.
During my mental flight of fantasy, while I was looking Sally over and wondering what was going on underneath her bland clothing, I realized she was watching me watching her, and while I was a bit embarrassed about being caught like that, Sally didn't seem to mind in the least.
In fact, Sally seemed to enjoy my scrutiny, and after we finished our drinks I was surprised when Sally asked if I would like to join her up in her room for a nightcap.
"I can't sleep in hotels," Sally confessed. "So it isn't like you'll be keeping me up or anything. I don't think the kids will be coming back anytime soon."
"The kids" Sally referred to were the two people from our office who had accompanied us to Burlington for these training sessions, and we called them kids because they were in their late 20's, making them bout half our ages. They were taking advantage of being in a college town by enjoying a far more lively scene than the hotel bar Sally and I had chosen.
"Lead on," I said as I threw some bills on the table and followed Sally out the door, and as I walked behind by chubby little colleague, for the first time I wondered whether this was just an innocent offer of a drink or more than that.
Since my wife had passed, I had been celibate, except for my right hand, so even the thought of being alone with a woman had my heart beating quickly and my pulse racing.
Sally's room was on the same floor as my own, and her room was of course a carbon copy of my own. Not worth the $155 a night our employer was paying, but at least it was clean and comfortable.
In her room Sally had a four-pack of some kind of wine cooler, and while it wasn't anything I was crazy about I took one so as not to have my host drink alone. We sat on the window sill, looking out at the little city from the fifth floor and the darkness of the lake beyond.
"What's the matter?" I asked after watching Sally contort a little bit. "Your neck?"
"Yeah," Sally admitted as she rolled her head around. "By the end of the day it starts to bother me."
"Want me to leave so you can lay down?" I offered, remembering that Sally had been in a car accident a while part that left her with a bit of a back problem.
"No!" Sally said quickly with a forcefulness that she probably didn't mean to express, but I paid it no mind. "I'm okay."
"Want me to rub your back for you?" I offered.
"Would you?" Sally said with a smile, and spun around on the wide window ledge so that her back was facing me.
"If I rub too hard, let me know," I said as my hands went up to her shoulders, and for the first time in over two years I touched a woman.
Technically, I was only touching the mauve blouse that Sally was wearing, with a bra beneath that to boot, but I didn't care. Sally's plump shoulders were under there somewhere, so I kneaded her as tenderly as if she was naked.
"Oh! That feels so good," Sally said as I looked at her rich black hair, thick and not reaching her shoulders, and as the blouse moved under my touch I saw the hair on the nape of her neck down to where it disappeared beneath the edge of the fabric.
"I'm not rubbing too hard, am I?" I asked as I inhaled the scent coming from Sally, a faint hint of vanilla that I savored.
"Actually, if you want you can do it harder," Sally said as she leaned backward and sighed. "Tough to get through all my fat."
"Do me a favor?" I asked, leaning over to Sally's ear and whispering. "Usually I get a kick out of your self-depreciating humor. I do it to myself a lot."
"But could you not do it now?" I added softly. "I'm probably enjoying this more than you are, and it would be even better for me if you laid off yourself for a while."
"Sorry," Sally said quietly. "I'm really self-conscious about myself."
"I know. You have a negative self-body image. Me too. You aren't Angelina Jolie," I told Sally as I slowly began massaging her shoulders again. "If you haven't noticed, I'm not Brad Pitt either."
"I'm not complaining."
"Good. Now just relax," I suggested, looking down over Sally's shoulders at the neckline of her blouse, which parted slightly as I rubbed.
Sally had small breasts, especially considering her frame, so I was not surprised at the modest cleavage that was revealed, but I enjoyed the view nonetheless.
"I haven't had an experience like this since - years," Sally said as she wiggled her body in response.
"You know, I could do an even better job if I didn't have to work through all of these clothes," I said, throwing a little chuckle in at the end.
"That would be the talk of the office," Sally said with a chuckle of her own.
"You wouldn't have to tell anybody," I offered. "God knows there isn't anybody in there I would confide anything to."
Since we don't work in the same physical area most of the time, we usually associate with different people and my unit is looked down on by some of the snotty folks in her area, so the idea that I would tell anybody about what I was suggesting was out of the question and Sally knew it.
"I think I'm actually drunk," Sally said. before taking a deep breath. "I must be. Okay. I will. Could you turn out the light first?"
I got up from the ledge and tried to walk nonchalantly to the light switch at the entrance to the room, and just before I flicked the switch off I glanced back at Sally who was just getting her blouse up over her head, and in that split second of illumination Sally Mancini became even more interesting to me.
***
When I made my way over to the other side of the room Sally was sitting on the edge of the bed facing the window, naked to the waist with her arms crossed over her chest. Without the light there was only the glow of the alarm clock on the side of the bed and the little light peeking through the bottom of the bathroom door.
That, and what was coming in the window from outside was the extent of the illumination, but because my eyesight is still pretty good I could see okay. Probably better than Sally would have preferred, I suspect, because I heard her take a deep breath as I sat at the foot of the bed kitty corner to her.
