Working Desires: A Dirty Office Romance Boxset

by Hazel Keys

  But I was terribly uncomfortable within twenty minutes of meeting the woman. She was ass-ramming me with her eyes! I don’t know how much more delicately I can put that, but when a woman stares at you and hardly blinks or smiles, it tends to make a guy nervous.

  “So Kim,” I said, trying to get her to loosen up. “How do you write your songs? Is there a creative process or…”

  Kim half-heartedly replied, throwing her head side to side and swishing her long black hair back and forth. When she wasn’t staring a hole through me she was gazing into nothing and gesturing madly. The female equivalent of Mick Jagger, I guess.

  “I think the songs I write…JAKE…come to me. It’s not really a creative process but it’s like a voice that sings to me.”

  “Ah, I see.”

  “The last song I wrote, ‘Sweet Virginia, was about sex.”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Like all about sex. I wanted to write a song that was just the sounds of fucking. The energy that results when two people enter each other. The man entering the woman and the woman entering the man…”

  “I uh…okay…”

  I shrugged at Amelia. Amelia stared back and turned her head in warning. As if to remind me of my promise.Ummm thanks but no thanks, I remember thinking to myself.

  I listened in frustration and boredom as Kim continued to rant. Seated next to me, she was giving off positive vibes, if nothing else…

  “Like that stanza that goes OhhOhhhOhhhh is a rising scale…it rises with each new stroke…1-3-5…each new note.”

  “Right…”

  “AND…!”

  I suddenly stopped nodding. I noticed Kim’s hands disappeared from the table. Within seconds, I felt grubby little hands grabbing my dick through my pants!

  “Whoah…” I said, looking at Kim, Amelia and David. Obviously, my friends had no idea what was going on.

  Kim was talking perfectly fine, continuing the conversation as if nothing was happening.

  “And so you’ll notice the fifth stanza…”

  “Uh huhhhh…”

  I said, flinching, powerless to move since she already unzipped me and mangled my cock out from my underwear. All I felt were her cold hands on my shaft and her eyes stayed put—fixated on me. At least now she was smiling.

  “Well…let me ASK you something,” I said, shifting away from her in my seat and giving my dick a moment to breathe.

  “Oh please, ask away. I don’t bite.”

  “Well I hope not!”

  “Is it difficult balancing your art and your personal life…”

  “Is it hard?” she said, grabbing my dick again and yanking it like she was stirring pudding. “Well it’s hard, I can assure you of that. It’s extremely hard.”

  David and Amelia looked at me in confusion as I shifted away again and sighed.

  “Well that’s fascinating. On a totally unrelated note, I think I ought to go to the bathroom.”

  “Hurry back,” she said, finally forming an evil little smile.

  “Can you walk, Jake?” Amelia asked, not too subtly implying I’m drunk. No, but I was trying to get the hell away from her crazy friend!

  “Yeah, I’m good. Be back soon.”

  I excused myself and then very subtly pushed my erection downward so as not to make a scene. I fled to the bathroom in a huff. What did I just witness? Who does that out in public?!

  I wasn’t sure what came over Kim, but she sure as hell wasn’t some delicate flower—She was looking for rebound sex worse than a man! I didn’t even try to hit on her. I was just trying to be a normal dude asking questions and then bam, she pretends like this is Woodstock. Maybe Amelia told her I was a photographer. I hope she or David didn’t mention I was “friend to the stars”. I really don’t like to mix work and play.

  I went into the bathroom stall and sat on the toilet, just to take a breather. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Sure, when you’re a teenager this sort of things sounds awesome, but it’s just plain weird if you’re an adult. I thought it over a moment, trying to determine my next course of action.

  Suddenly, the bathroom door swung open and I heard a taunting voice worthy of Gollum from Lord of the Rings.

  “Jake? What’s taking you so long?”

  Kim was in the men’s restroom calling my name!

  “Kim? Is that you?” I replied in horror.

  “Hey. Don’t mind me. I was just curious whether you’re a stall man or a urinal type of guy.”

  “What?!”

  I watched in horror as Kim went full-Grudge on me and crawled like some psycho demon-girl under the stall. She finally smiled, ignoring my look of pure terror and stood back up.

  “Well it’s a good thing I wasn’t taking a poop!” I said in anger.

  “Haven’t you ever wanted to do it in a public place?”

  I sighed, as she straddled me on the toilet and put her arms around my neck.

  “Not really,” I said, staring back minus a smile. “When I think public place I think forest. Rock concert. Theater room. Not a place that smells like urine.”

  “You’re such a square,” she said with a smile. “I thought Amelia said you were wild.”

  Ah that explains it. Amelia told her I was “wild”.

  “Amelia thinks any man with an opinion is a fucking James Dean,” I said.

  “I don’t want to fuck James Dean. I want to fuck you.”

  “That should be on a greeting card somewhere…but seriously, not feeling it right now.”

  I politely pushed her off of me and averted my eyes as I exited the bathroom. I know some people will make a big thing out of this rejection, something about me being gay or how strong women intimidate men or whatever…

  All I can say is, hey! Screw you. If I don’t want sex, then you’re not getting any!

  I ran out of the bathroom and sat back down, alerting David and Amelia that something was amiss. I watched in disgust as Kim came out, sat back down and continued on as if nothing happened. Her nose was proudly in the air and her eyes were still burning and firing at me like missiles.

  We suffered through a few more minutes of small talk. Thank God, the conversation shifted to David—something about blossom end rot is caused by a lack of calcium, who the hell knows what David is ever talking about—and I had my way out.

  “…But see when it comes to soil deficiency, calcium…”

  “That’s fascinating!” I said, interrupting David and standing up. “Speaking of which, I hate to be a party pooper but I have to get home.”

  “Aww,” Amelia said. “But we were just having a good conversation.”

  “Yeah, so sorry but something came up.” I looked down at my pants and to Kim and shook my head. “I mean…I just need to get to the supermarket. I just remembered I have to go by the pharmacy and get my meds before they close.”

  I looked back at Kim and gave her stink face. “Yeah you know all about the pharmacy, right guys? Fixes crazy.”

  David and Amelia looked at each other in confusion.

  “But I’ll catch up with you guys later. Pleasure meeting you, Kim.”

  “Likewise,” she said coolly. “I’ve always wanted to meet a portrait artist.”

  “Photographer,” I said in sarcasm.

  “Oh right. I knew it was something like that.”

  I weakly smiled back and got the hell out of there.

  **

  I did actually go the Bi-Lo supermarket and made good on my excuse, so technically it wasn’t a lie. But it turns out publicly revealing my itinerary was a bad idea. Kim followed me to the supermarket’snearest the restaurant and stalked me, like any sane normal person would do, right?

  “Jesus Christ,” I said as a I saw her approaching, tossing my croutons into my grocery cart and giving up all hope. “Okay, so are you like the good kind of stalker like you just really love hot Italian guys, or the bad kind of stalker where you’re trying to steal my kidneys?”

  “You’re Italian? No way! I’m o
ne third Italian. Also part German and part Asian.”

  “Well you’re a regular World War Two, aren’t you?”

  “Look, I just wanted to apologize for coming on too strong before.”

  “Uh huh…” I said suspiciously.

  “Amelia gave me a mixed message. She said you were wild and crazy. So figured, handjob hello…might be your kind of night.”

  “Ah. Well I can see where the confusion came in. No, I’m more of a king-sized bed kind of guy. Or maybe the kitchen. I always thought about having sex in a public bathroom as a horny teen…until I actually went inside of one.”

  “Point taken. Can we start over? I’m Kim. I just broke up with my boyfriend.”

  “Yeah I kind of sensed that.”

  “I think you’re hot,” she said with a bratty smile. “And yeah, Italian guys make me a little crazy. But do you like female rock stars?”

  I finally laughed. At this point, I figured she was nuts…but maybe the kind of girl that’s nuts but a hellavu lot of fun. “Depends. Can you sing like Janis Joplin?”

  “Are you daring me to sing out in public?”

  I laughed quietly and nodded. Sure enough, she made a scene, belting out “OH LORD WON’T YOU BUY ME A MERCEDES BENZ.”

  I finally stopped her just as the store manager started looking at us funny.

  “All right, that was pretty awesome. All is forgiven.”

  She cackled loudly. “You’re the only guy on earth who would want an apology for a woman giving him a handjob in a restaurant. But I get it. You’re a high maintenance guy.”

  “High maintenance? Get out of here…”

  “Oooh, so sexy. Say it again like a mobster.”

  I laughed again, finally letting my guard down.

  “High maintenance? Get the fuggoudda here!”

  “So dangerous,” she said tilting her head and squinting. I loved the way she groomed her hair and rubbed her neck. It looked like she was really into me. I like that look…it feels good to have a girl like you for you…outsideof what you can do for her with a camera.

  “So what do you usually do after you go shopping?”

  I looked at her in concern.

  **

  “Oh my Gawwwd!” she screamed, shaking the bed in my loft apartment so hard we woke the upstairs neighbors. “Oh give it to me, Don Jake! Give it to me, boss!”

  “I’m trying!” I cried out, plowing into Kim missionary style. I was sort of distracted by the knocking on the ceiling, an irate neighbor no doubt.

  “Hey Fuck you!” she screamed back at the ceiling. “Go on Match.com and find a sex life of your own instead of raining on my parade!”

  “That’s embarrassing…” I said, still stroking and looking into her killer eyes.

  “No way, it turns me on. Knowing other people are so angry…so angry at my pleasure.”

  I laughed again, especially when Kim started shaking the bed twice as hard and loudly.

  “OhhhhKim!” I screamed, as Kim ran sharp fingernails down my back. This girl was wild for sure…but the climax was partly ruined by an unexpected visitor.

  I looked to my side I did a double take, as I noticed Kim was taking a selfie on her iPhone.

  “What…What…What are you doing?”

  “Go ahead baby, just sending a selfie of myself. Hashtag#movingon.”

  She laughed and clicked away…literally taking selfies of us like we’re teenagers. I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. This was probably a new low for me…

  I came…pretty weakly.

  **

  Long story short, Amelia was right. I just couldn’t stay with a girl like Kim. As soon as the morning sun came up, ugly differences between us came up and spoiled almost all the temporary memories of pleasure.

  “Hey beautiful,” I said to her the next morning.

  “Mmmm…” she said, frowning. “I overslept.”

  “Got to get to work?”

  “No…I just don’t like spending the night. Nothing personal.”

  “Oh…I gotcha,” I said, flinching, a bit disappointed.

  Call me a womanizer, call me a cad, call me a commitment-phobic manchild, I just don’t see the point in trying to hold onto a one night stand that was obviously doomed.

  “So…can I call you sometime?”

  “Eehhh,” she said, wincing and smiling awkwardly. “To be totally truthful, I sorta think my boyfriend might want to get back together.”

  “Really? Already?”

  “Yeah…he sent me like twenty messages after I posted my after sex selfie.”

  “Ah…pretty sure that wasn’t an after sex selfie, hon.”

  Call me crazy. I just can’t imagine ever connecting with any woman. Maybe I’m a narcissist or maybe I’m just emotionally shut off. Maybe my mother did a number on me, I dunno. Maybe like Amelia said I just can’t fall in love. But the very idea of trying to be with Kim, fighting for Kim, trying to make something real with Kim…it seemed a little…

  “Don’t be clingy, Jake. It’s not very Italian of you.” She winked.

  “Nah…” I said, meeting her eyes and half-smiling. “We’re just having fun. I get it. Listen…whatever you do, don’t write a song about my dick. That’s very 1970s.”

  She laughed. “I only write dick songs about guys I hate. Or love.”

  “So I’m safe, huh?”

  “You’re definitely safe…” she said with a nod.

  I just don’t feel it. Maybe I’m detached from all humanity. My brain says why settle for just one woman when I can play the field? My crotch agrees with that sentiment. But my heart…my heart is just silent on the whole idea.

  There are guys like David, faithful, altruistic and nice…and then there are guys like me. Cold hearted. Alpha. Dominant.

  “Well…one last kiss?” I said with a smile.

  “Ohhh…uh…” she winced again. “I don’t really do morning breath.”

  I don’t need romance. I have plenty of romance in my life. The worst case scenario is to end up a sadsack like David and have to stick with one nagging woman for the rest of my life. Now that’s a tragedy!

  “Bye…” I said to Kim as she walked out the door, already missing her vibrant eyes. I would probably never see her again. A once in a lifetime experience never to be re-lived. Barely even remembered.

  “Thanks for the beer,” she finally said, with a jocular nod.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  Of course. Beer is cheap. Relationships are too damned expensive, or at least that’s what the world’s taught me. Whenever I think of cheap beer, I guess I’ll think of Kim. Wow…that sucks.

  And of course, in the interest of keeping up appearances it is very important to make clear to all the people that are going to judge me anyway…

  “Oh yeah…” I nodded talking to David and Amelie at brunch the next week. “Kim and I didn’t really get along. We were together for a while. But didn’t work out…so uh…I dumped her.”

  David sighed while Amelia sent me a nasty look.

  “Come on guys,” I said with a smile. “Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”

  ***

  Chapter 2:Stephanie

  Jake is such a loud dude! I know we’re neighbors and I know you’ve got to be a little understanding when someone lives next door. But I’m not complaining about music or sex noises or anything like that. I can literally hear the guy singing in the shower! I can hear conversations he’s having with his teddy bear at night. He uses a lot of F-words when complaining to his teddy bear, go figure.

  I feel intimately connected to the guy, though we only know each other’s name. That’s what thin walls will do to a person.

  Of course, our friendship is platonic. We met each other…must have been five years ago when he moved in. I had been here a year already and he seemed like the usual stereotypical big lug. The loud mouthed guy, the jokester, but the one who has a heart of gold. I remember him saying hello to me always with a smile and a very honestly ha
ppy face. Most guys when they hit on me are so oily and so icky. Jake was a nice change…

  Of course…the reason he was so uh, how shall we say, platonic about his friendship was probably due to what I was wearing.

  The first day he introduced himself he knocked lightly—in almost precisely the same manner as my sister. Light, tap, three successive knocks.

  That’s why I answered the door without thinking. And that’s why first impressions are a bitch.

  “Hey stupid, come on in!”

  I said as I opened the door—sans makeup, bad hair day, in pajamas and with a rather tragic case of unexpected rash on my face. The man literally caught me at the exact moment where I was the ugliest I had ever been in my life!

  “Oh my God…” I said, staring at him and realizing I just invited a hunky stranger into my horrible disgusting pigsty of an apartment.

  “Umm, okay,” he said entering my ransacked living room. He really thought this strange crazy girl was asking him inside. Now it was too awkward to shout out, “I thought you were my sister!” I had to improvise something.

  “So uh…” I said nervously. “What’s your name?” I was dying of embarrassment. But at the same time, I couldn’t let him know that. I had to be cool and cocky about it, right? “I’m Stephanie. Stephanie Price.”

  “Cool. Name’s Jake. Just thought I’d introduce myself. And hey, don’t worry about the mess. My apartment looks that way too on weekends!”

  He said it so cutely, obviously lying and trying to be nice about it.

  “So you’re uh…” Jake said, gesturing, maybe a little nervous himself.

  “Yes! Yes!” I replied quickly before he even finished the sentence.

  “Lesbian?” he said, finishing his thought.

  “What? OH uh, YES, yes I am.”

  Don’t ask me why I said that. I think I was so horrified that he was invading my space—at my own accidental request—that I just took the first lie that came along and ran with it. Better he think I’m some alpha confident lesborather than a ridiculous woman who never cleans, pretties herself up or makes flirty conversation! I’m unavailable, I’m off the market. That felt so much better than admitting he caught me looking like a trainwreck!