I walk to my office door and I scan the floor. She is there, hiding in her cubicle. Amazing how she senses me because she is now studiously avoiding my stare. But she looks up. She always does.
She walks into my office like a naughty girl caught cheating on her exam. The other women ignore her. They know me. They know her.
She is encased in a tight blue skirt. It goes halfway to her knee - and no more. The white blouse is a nice touch. Tight. Almost popping the buttons. The glasses and her long blonde hair up in a bun make it almost pornographic. The heels then push it over into full on male fantasy.
I close the door. I do not say a word.
I tried.
I tried working off this need at the gym. I pushed myself but I can only do so much.
Sure, that Asian girl smiled at me. She always does. But she is not what I want right now. Maybe some day, but not today.
She pouts as she sits on the couch. Not a chair. She knows where we will end up. Go straight there.
She crosses her legs and I am fully on fire. I loosen my tie. I catch a glance of myself in the window. I am fit as fuck and we both know it. I am confident as hell and I cannot hide it. And I need her so much right now.
She says it is not fair. She has work to do. But her eyes are on my now bulging pants.
"Yes, you do," I tell her. "It is right here."
And I stroke.
She complains that I cum twice a day with her. She never knew a man - especially a 52 year old man - with the sex drive like that.
I could tell her to just shut and take care of me. I could laugh at her. I do neither. I just sit down and she leans back, allowing me full access to her round breasts. Frilly black lace bra. She knows how much I like this one. She knows everything about me.
She is 38. She is beautiful. She is slightly curvaceous and all woman. Pale, almost milky skin. I see the marks I left yesterday are still there as I unbutton her blouse.
She complains. She says I just use her. She knows I take advantage of her desperation and loneliness and need to be touched. She cannot stand the idea of me with any other woman, so when I told her she would have to make me cum every time I got aroused, she agreed.
She never thought it would happen this way. I knew she had an office crush on me. Lots of women do. Only because I never hit on any woman there. They know me as the safe flirty guy. Senior (VP, Global Public Relations). In shape. Well dressed. Not a threat.
But there is something that snapped. I got tired of turning down women. I got tired of saying no.
And then Aella came into my office and my life.
She transferred from a regional to corporate office. She is in way over her head. How she got this position is anyone's guess. I never interviewed her and when marketing department merged into PR, she was mine.
Divorced. Twice. One daughter (at college and with little desire to visit the woman paying her bills). Sad, possibly depressed.
Why she decided to pour her guts to me that rainy Wednesday morning, I cannot say. I just listened to her tales of woe. They were long and detailed.
Maybe I should not have asked if it was ok to hug her. Maybe I should have given her a tissue rather than an intense, ever-lasting embrace.