I nodded again, pursing my lips in sympathy. “I’m sorry to hear that, Sara,” I told her, placing my hands on the desktop, wondering if I shouldn’t reach out and pat the back of hers. “Yet you still manage to come to work and do your job—that’s admirable of you.”
“I’ve got no choice.” She shook her head, and then let it drop again. “If I don’t work, they’ll have all the more reason to take my kids from me...” The words broke at the end of the sentence and she lifted a hand to wipe at the corners of her eyes.
At that moment, watching her show me the pain running to her core, I struggled to comprehend what was happening inside me. I’ve always been a strong man, not one for crying or moping when things don’t go my way. In fact, I tend to make things go my way most of the time, no matter what it takes. Rarely had I ever cared what was going on in someone else’s head or heart until that moment. She sniffed and looked up. “I’m sorry. I’m making a mess.” She looked around my office and I stood, knowing what she wanted.
“It’s alright, it’s better to let it out,” I said, handing her a box of tissues. “Take your time.” I stood for a moment watching her as she dabbed at her eyes, feeling like I should do more. My heart leapt at my chest like an excited dog seeing its owner for the first time in days, and I felt my own pangs of sadness emerge. That only made the attraction stronger. Then I knew what it was that drew me to her. My own feelings of being lost, of needing someone who understood me, were reaching out to Sara, in her time of need. I could comfort her, and in doing so I would comfort myself. It felt right, so I reached out and put a hand on her shoulder.
Sara looked up abruptly, her eyes moving to my hand, then to my eyes. Attraction bloomed in me drawing me to her, and before I could halt its spread I was hugging her awkwardly, me standing and she in her chair. But rather than feel uncomfortable as I had expected, I felt warm and at peace. She squeezed me tighter, sobs breaking from her, and I responded by tightening my own grip, pulling her in. We barely knew each other, except as coworkers, and here we were hugging passionately. There was something else too. Her body pressed into mine, her soft, supple flesh against my religiously chiselled form—and it was turning me on. The feel of her curves on me, hot and trembling as they were, awakened me, and soon I was struggling to maintain control of my body. The image of her sitting there snapped into view, and I unbuttoned her blouse with my mind, imagining the heat on her skin, the rattle of her buttons skittering across the floor as I tore it off her. Sara began to respond as if she could read my mind, moving slightly from the hips, just gentle nudging, but these were purposeful and directed movements. It took a second for me to grow to full hardness, and then there was no hiding from what was happening, no excusing it. It became real when Sara brought a hand down to stroke the entire length of my erection, her fingers tracing the shaft drawing a groan from my lips.
A noise outside woke me up and I stepped back, breathless. I turned to my chair and sat down quickly, my hands in my lap. Sara sat down too. No one said anything for a minute, and then there was a knock at the door. Still only half composed, Sara blushing red around her neck, and me shifting to find the most comfortable position, I said, “We can talk later if you like.” I was trying to sound normal, but I soon saw the other meaning in my words. “Or we can—”
“That would be nice,” Sara said cutting me off before I could say anything else. She smiled at me, her eyes never leaving mine before doing a quick scan of my body, aggressively and confidently as if it belonged to her. Then she turned, wiped her eyes, dabbed at her nose, and opened the door.
Emma, another member of staff, poked her head in the door, oblivious to what had just happened, and said in a whisper, “Did she tell you?”
I didn’t answer immediately. I was thinking how strange a day it was. In a very short space of time I’d learned so much about myself. I’d learned that I wasn’t happy, I needed change, and because of some emotional connection or other, I wanted Sara. Maybe that was the wrong word.
I needed her.
Chapter Four: Dominated by Coworkers
I didn’t see Sara for a while. We never did meet again for a talk that day, but I was glad in a way. I’d seen friends of mine get in a mess over such things, letting their hearts steer them instead of their heads, and I knew it could make things a whole lot worse. Still, that didn’t stop me fantasizing about her every moment my mind wandered. I’m an attractive man, so I’ve been told, and my sex life—until recently—was rather good. I guess, with the tenth anniversary of my pops' death, and my own dissatisfaction with life, I just hadn’t been in the mood. I hadn’t even noticed until the moment in the office with Sara. It was later that night, as I lay there thinking of her, that I realized she was the first woman in over a month that I had desired. She was ten years my senior, and had two kids, but even without my vulnerability that day in the office, I still found her desirable, I still wanted to taste her in my mouth.
I was feeling rather good when Sara walked in the weekend after—and I was determined to do one thing—her. While she had been away, probably working her other job, I had heard it was her birthday on the same day as her next shift. It was Jane of all people who told me. For once she was excited without being bashful. She took me aside earlier that week while Sara was away. I’ve never seen someone play with their hair as much as Jane did that day. It was like she was wrestling with it, putting it in its place, like an unruly child. “You know whose birthday it is; this weekend don’t you?” she chirped, her eyes widening briefly, making her look a little insane.
“I’ve no idea, Jane,” I told her as I swept up a plate from a nearby table. As ever, my mood was slipping. I had little patience for idle chit-chat, especially about something as mundane as a birthday. “Yours?”
She shook her head quickly, and I noticed for the first time that for once her hair wasn’t tied back. With her hair down around her shoulders, she looked more of a woman than the awkward late-blooming girl I’d always had her down as. She even nudged me with an elbow. “No, that was last week,” she said with a giggle. “It’s Sara’s birthday this week.”
One birthday a week? Jeez, how many other birthdays had I missed? I’m not a complete arsehole. I’ve remembered birthdays in the past, it’s just recently, perhaps I’ve been a little too self-absorbed to notice anyone but myself. “It was your birthday last week? I’m sorry I missed it—happy birthday!” Yeah, as if it actually meant anything anymore, anyway, Jane seemed far more interested in Sara’s birthday than her own.
“Never mind that.” She dismissed it with a flap of her hand. “I’ve got something very special planned for her. Will you help me give it to her?” With her hands clasped in front of her, and eyes wide like a kid begging for a bike at Christmas, she was more sincere than I’d ever seen her.
Over her shoulder, the first lunchtime customers were stepping through the door. “Alright, I’ll help, but you have to make the arrangements. Just tell me what you need.” I nodded to the customers. “We’ll talk again later.”
As it turned out, the surprise was a party.
And so on Sara’s first evening back, as we closed up the restaurant I approached her.
“Happy birthday, Sara,” I said and handed her a key.
She looked down at it, and then looked back at me her eyes narrowed. “Thank you, but what’s this?” She held the key up.
I nodded to the entrance. “It’s the key to the restaurant. I want you to lock the door.” It would have been better had half my contingent of staff not been there with us. I could imagine all kinds of birthday treats, had it been just us two. After the week before, we had unfinished business, but for now, that business could wait. It was all about Jane’s little surprise for her coworker. Jane, however, was nowhere to be seen. After all the effort she had put in arranging this party, it seemed a little strange that she hadn’t shown up for it.
Sara stared at me, her forehead creased, head cocked as she tried to form words with her lips. Then th
ey came, crashing through the kitchen door singing “happy birthday,” with all the gusto I had told them to muster, and more. When most of my staff—bar several that couldn’t make it—stood before her holding a cake with a single candle burning in the centre, Sara stared in shock, a hand over her mouth. I had two reasons for throwing her a surprise birthday party. The first was that I genuinely felt sorry for her. She needed some happiness from somewhere, and it was her birthday, so the timing was right. The second reason was that I had to have her. Even if I came up with a rational, logical reason, or several that were against my pursuing her—my body wouldn’t allow me to act on them. That moment in the office, when her body was on mine, the warmth of her giving me a glimpse of the heat under her clothes, her movements showing me her hunger, had seduced me completely.
I had to have her.
*****
Hours later, with the alcohol flowing and music filling the restaurant, I made my move.
I’d hardly left her side all night anyway, and I hadn’t ever gone far. It was just far away enough, and among just enough people that I was able to conceal my desire for Sara. I was still the manager. I still had standards to stick to, though the more wine I drank, the less that became a priority. Jane was there too. Ordinarily I wouldn’t notice her in a room full of people—but she looked different tonight. Gone was the waif, with the bad skin and graceless gait. I didn’t recognize her at first. She strolled into the room from the staff area, wearing a red dress that shone and shimmered in the light. I’d never seen her wear anything else but ill-fitting t-shirts or blouses. Mine wasn’t the only pair of eyes fixated on her as she swept into the room like an alien queen, mysterious and beautiful. Jesus, she looked good. She wore makeup too but only a little and she had this glow about her skin, as if she’d bathed in honey. She winked at me across the room, and then seated herself at a table. Within seconds, she was swamped with males, Thomas among them, and I turned my attention to the woman I was here to see.
As I stood to cross the space between our two tables, Thomas danced his way over, swaying drunkenly. “A dance?” he offered, holding out his hand in my direction.
“Maybe not,” I said with mock sadness. “I’m a little busy.” I nodded at Sara rather stupidly, considering that only an hour earlier I had done everything to keep it quiet. “I thought you were flirting with Jane anyway?”
“Have you seen that?” He nodded toward the half dozen male forms blocking the view to the red-clad goddess across the room. “Too much competition, and anyway, it’s...Jane!”
“Yeah, doesn’t seem right does it,” I muttered.
Thomas’s eyebrows climbed his forehead, and he nodded. “You going for the milf, huh?” he whispered, patting my shoulder as he leaned in like a co-conspirator.
For a moment, I didn’t say anything. I wondered how to take his comment, and after a brief struggle with my conscience, something clicked, and I realized he was right. I was going for the milf. Maybe that’s why my need to have her naked beside me was so strong. I’d been distressed and confused, and then Sara had shown up, a figure of support, a motherly influence. I glanced to my right, at Sara, and she was staring straight at me. When our eyes met I saw her lips part, enticing me, and the look in her eyes was intoxicating. She had cast her lure, and I was readily being drawn in to be captured and dealt with, in whatever manner she saw fit.
“Maybe...” I patted him on the shoulder and, now no longer caring what anyone else thought, sat down at Sara’s table.
“It feels strange,” she told me, her eyes bluer and clearer than ever as they held my gaze unfalteringly. “We work here, but here we are getting drunk.” She turned to look at the others, over a dozen of them, most of them younger than us. Then she laughed and turned back to me. “I almost feel young again!” She took her wineglass, and I watched her fingers curl around the stem, gripping it and stroking it. I remembered how she’d stroked me, running her fingers along the centre of me, and I licked my lips, giving a clue to my thoughts. Sara toyed with me, holding out her glass, her fingers still stroking it from top to bottom. “Here’s to happiness, and an end to the bullshit.”
I snapped out of the hypnotic state I had slipped into and raised my own glass to hers until the two clinked. “Here’s to happiness,” I returned, wondering if her reference to bullshit meant our little game. These things always make me wonder. Women have this way of sending messages in words that invite and entice, though sometimes things can go horribly wrong if you translate incorrectly. I glanced at my coworkers just feet away. They seemed engrossed in their own little world, dancing and talking, obsessing over Jane. The world Sara and I existed in was somewhere else; it was our own little pocket of space.
Taking my eyes off Sara was not an option now; in fact I was becoming braver by the second. My eyes wandered over her freely, but I continued to keep up the pretence for the sake of anyone watching. “How are things at home?”
Sara responded to my eyes while listening to my question. “Much better,” she said a hand coming up to undo a button on her blouse. “He said he won’t contest for the kids.” She glanced at the others, and then shifted to the side a little. I sucked in a slow breath, staring at the top of her breast, the bra mouthwateringly close to displaying her nipple. My belt was now fighting against an ever-growing pressure in my pants, and already I felt the small pulses of pleasure that would lubricate my cock in readiness. I moved my chair closer to the table, needing to be near her, and fully aware of the advantages of the table cloth covering it.
I slid the arm furthest away from the others, under the table. “This is almost a perfect night then,” I said, inviting her to tell me what she wanted.
She opened her mouth to speak, but the words turned to breath as my hand found her leg. It was my turn to gasp when seconds later; her hand crept up my leg.
“Almost a perfect night,” she said, her voice so low only I could hear it. “I could think of ways to make it better.”
Her hand found my shaft, and encircled it as much as my pants would allow. She raised her eyebrows at me, the tip of her tongue probing between her lips, leaving her bottom lip glistening and wet.
Under the table I thrust my hips at her in time with her strokes, the animal in me rising dangerously close to the surface. I leaned forward slightly, just enough to reach the hot furnace between her legs. Slowly, so I could explore each part of her, I ran two fingers over the surface of her panties. I could already feel her wetness through the material. My excitement grew further. Our faces were just inches away now and at this point our lust mingled with the alcohol in our systems, and we ceased to care what the others thought. “I think we should continue that talk,” I said my eyes dropping to the tops of her breasts just beneath me, rising and falling quickly as Sara’s breathing sped up.
Seconds later we both stood and made for my office. I was aware of the eyes on me, the questioning looks and exchanged glances, but I didn’t care. I was all animal at that point. I opened the door to my office, and then stood aside waiting for Sara to enter. She stepped past me and climbed up onto the table, pulling her skirt up around her before the door had even closed. Now that we were alone, with only the muffled music from down the hallway to disturb us, the sounds of our lust released filled the air. I made for her at once, as she almost tore her blouse open, pulling at my belt buckle as I pressed against her ass, her open legs exposing her panties, black and even blacker in the centre where her juices soaked them. Her breasts spilled out as I pulled down my pants, and boxers, and my throbbing cock bounced upwards hungrily, pointing toward her. We both panted heavily, rushing to remove her panties together, the last obstacle to the comfort we really wanted from one another.
I tossed them over my shoulder, and Sara pulled me toward her, her hands gripping my hair hard as she crushed her lips on mine. It was an explosion of wetness and power as her tongue fought its way into my mouth. The tables turned moments later as I found the wetness between her legs, manoeuvred myself, t
hen slid in as far as I could go.
We both let out a long moan, our lips separating to utter our cries of bliss. I thrust slow and easy, enjoying every inch of her hot centre as it surrounded me, taking me prisoner, leaving no way back from here. Objects clattered over the floor, falling from my desk as we writhed as one, riding each wave of pleasure, of newness, like surfers holding hands. Sara gripped the edges of my desk with her hands. I gripped her breasts, crushing them and kneading them, my thumbs stroking her nipples. Things moved slow, slower than I’d anticipated. Whether it was because she was a milf, and I’d never had a milf before, I don’t know. But it was already close to being the hottest, most passionate sex I’d ever had.
“I’ve wanted this for so long,” Sara said, her eyes burning into mine from the desk top. “I always knew I’d have you inside me.” She paused, her face contorting as she rose to meet me, allowing me to her deepest regions. I explored her, feeling like I could go on and on, as if I...
The door opened behind me.
We stopped.
“You didn’t wait for me?” The door swung shut. “I thought this was our surprise?”
I froze, my cock still buried up to my balls in Sara. Jane was standing behind me, probably only inches away. And what the hell was she talking about?
Sara continued to grind against me despite the presence of Jane, standing behind me. She looked past me and said in a low voice, “I was just getting him warmed up, that’s all. Take your clothes off.”
I felt a pair of hands grip my ass, and squeeze hard. “Your ass is like rock. I bet you can go all night.” The hands slid up my back, nails gently raking me until they stopped at my hair and latched on, pulling my head back with a sharp tug. “And you will go all night, if that’s what we desire.” It was an order, and it was given in a tone I’d never heard Jane use before. She sounded powerful, and confident, dark and threatening. I felt her body press against mine, and she thrust at me. “Who told you to stop fucking her?” Jane demanded, and continued to push against me. I obeyed and started fucking Sara again, a renewed flood of passion exploding within me, as I began to understand what was happening.
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