“Okay, Jim, come over. Come over now. Let’s get this over with.” The phone clicked in his ear as she finished speaking and he didn’t think about the coldness in her voice or the way the words sounded so final. He was in his car and driving to her newly rented apartment within seconds.
When Jim pushed the button to come up to her third floor suite there was no voice on the other end. There was only the sound of the buzzer letting him in the main door. Foregoing the elevator, he ran up the stairs, two at a time. He knew which door was hers. He’d spent many nights watching her window from the parking lot. He knocked on the door and it swung open. The first thing he noticed was a small wooden plaque on the wall. It said, “Welcome to my home sweet home.” It was new. This wasn’t one of the items she’d taken from their home when she left. This was something she’d purchased on her own. Walking through the hallway, he noticed several pair of shoes on a mat by the door. Her pink-striped running shoes were there, as well as a large pair of black boots and another pair of large running shoes. Jim’s heart was in his throat as he called out his wife’s name.
“Jen, honey, where are you? I’m here.”
At the end of the hallway, the kitchen was to one side and the small living room was right in front of him. To his left there were two more doors, presumably the bathroom and the bedroom. It was dark. The only light was from the outside streetlamps that were streaming in through the curtains of the large patio window. It took him a moment to adjust his eyes and look around the living room. This is untidy, not like her at all. A jacket and a shirt and what looked like a pair of jeans were scattered across the floor. There were two couches and on one the pillows were stacked at one end. As he strained his eyes to look around the room, he thought he could see a large pile of clothing on the second couch, but then it moved. It moved and settled and two dark still eyes looked over at him. There was a large man wearing a lumberjack’s shirt that was open at the front, staring at him. The man was wearing underwear, but no pants and seemed quite content to be sitting there, on Jim’s wife’s couch. Startled, Jim stepped back as the man moved in his seat. Picking up a cigarette package from the table beside him, the man pulled out a cigarette and slowly lit it, never letting his gaze leave Jim.
Pointing toward one of the doors, he said, “She’s in there.” And, almost as an afterthought, “Don’t be long, Jim.” As the large man pronounced Jim’s name he drew the letters out, as though he were enunciating the word to a child.
Jim could feel his heart beating in his throat as the man blew cigarette smoke at him across the dead air that hung in the room. He had never been afraid to defend himself, but there was something about this big man, something about the fearless way he looked at Jim. Turning slowly, he made his way towards the bedroom door. There was no doubt which room his wife was in. He could hear her. He could hear her moaning. Jim knew that sound.
There was no need to rush now. He slowly turned the door handle wanting to see what was in the room, and not wanting to see what was in the room. There was a small candle lit on the bedside table and it cast shadows on the ceiling. Jennifer was sitting on top of a second man who was lying on his back on the bed. The man still had his socks on. Jennifer wore only her bra as she rode the man, who was under her, bucking her hips back and forth to the same motion that Jim knew so well. She flicked her long hair back and turned her head, allowing Jim to see her profile. She was smiling, enjoying herself. Each time she flicked her hair back, the shadows on the ceiling came to life and danced in time to the movement on the bed. The beating of his heart was still in his throat, in his chest. It was part of him now. It was pain and he knew that it wasn’t going to go away. He leaned against the wall and, trying to steady himself, asked the only question that made sense. It was the only words that his mouth could make.
“Why? Why, Jen?”
She stopped but only for a moment. Her rhythm was interrupted for only an instant, until the man below her gently put his hands on her hips and guided her, letting her regain her tempo. She let out a small muffled sound as she seemed to enjoy the feel of the man pulling her onto him even harder. “I had to. You left me no choice.” She spoke slowly, calmly. Her words were interrupted by an occasional soft moan she seemed to emit uncontrollably, as the man’s cock slid into her, lightly bouncing her up and down. “It’s over. I told you that. We’re over. Done.” As she finished speaking to her husband, the man reached for her breasts and cupped them.
Jennifer turned away from Jim and bucked even more wildly into the man, bringing herself to her peak. Afterwards, Jim thought about all the things that he might have done. He could have pulled her from the bed. He could have fought both men, or tried to anyways. Or, he could have sat and pleaded with her, begged her to come home once again. He didn’t though. He just left her as she reached a satisfied orgasm while the shadows on the ceiling danced merrily around. When he walked through the living room the first man was smoking and looking at the window, uninterested in him this time. It wasn’t until he was in the hallway and the front door closed behind him that he thought he heard something. He thought he heard someone laughing. It might have been Jennifer or it might have been Jennifer and one of the men laughing together. Or, the laughter may even have come from one of the other apartments. He couldn’t be sure. He walked back down the stairs, foregoing the elevator once again, and wondered how long it would take for the weight in his chest and the pounding in his throat to go away.
It took a long time. It took meeting Amanda, dating her and settling into routines with her before he started to feel a little better. When they married, he told his new wife about the breakup, but never mentioned the night in the apartment. He kept that in a part of his head that he barely acknowledged. He knew it had happened, but he chose not to relive it. Ever. So every time his mind began to wander to the images from that night, he chose to think about other things. He chose to think about conquests and fantasies. It began with a secretary from one of the businesses that he called on. He couldn’t remember her name, but he knew that it began with a “D”. He remembered that part. Then there were women he met from online dating sites. It became a game. He wasn’t sure if it would ever totally take away the pain, but he knew that when he was in the throes of the chase, or lying beside one of them, he never thought about the night in the apartment. He never thought about the way the man looked at him when he walked in, or the sound of his wife being satisfied by another man, or the laughter that may or may not have come from one of them as he left. He never thought about any of it. Turning his car onto his street, and home to Amanda, he thought about Canada Day and the box of condoms with the “E” marked on the inside flap. Yes, Canada Day. It was her time. It was definitely her time.
* * * *
Elizabeth received an email the day after their close encounter in the copier room. It was titled, “Unfinished Business.” It said, very simply, “See you soon,” and was signed JimG. She thought for a while about how to answer it, and when she couldn’t think of a witty reply, she emailed back, “Yes, you will...”
That was all that was said for several days. She filed and computed, and he sold and took orders. From time to time he left the office to make sales calls, but mostly he did his job and she did hers. It was different though. It was like there was something hanging over her now. Before, it had been innocent, playful, but now it was different. Now, a man other than her husband had touched her and she’d touched him. Doubts came, and doubts went. She’d remind herself of how good a man she had at home. It was wrong what she’d done, what she was thinking of doing.
She tried to find other ways to satisfy herself. At night as she lay in bed while David worked a late shift, she would touch her body in the places that she wanted Jim to touch. On a night when the urges became too strong, she satisfied herself with her special toy. Instead of dressing in her regular cotton nightgown she wore the sheer silky outfit that David had bought her several Christmases ago.
Lying with the top sheet lo
osely covering her, she squeezed her eyes partially closed and slid her nightdress up her legs. She imagined his hands pulling her legs apart. Then, with her legs separated, she took her vibrator and turned the setting to low. Gently, she probed the tip of it against her clit, enjoying the small circular motion that it made. Slipping the point of it into her pussy she let out a little gasp and squeezed her eyes completely shut. She imagined someone, anyone leaning over her, commanding her to take him in. She had barely changed the speed setting to medium when she brought herself to orgasm. Frustrated, she put the vibrator back in her drawer and lay on her back. It wasn’t enough. She enjoyed the feeling and the momentary fantasy, but now that she’d felt a strange man’s hands on her, around her, in front of her, she needed more. There was no faceless stranger in her fantasies. There was a real man, a man that she worked with. Feeling frustrated and unsatisfied, she pulled up the bedcovers and fell asleep thinking about what Jim Gretzky’s cock had felt like as it pushed against her, when they were alone, in the copier room.
His emails started again on the Friday before the long weekend. The office would be closed as usual on Saturday and Sunday, but also on Monday to celebrate Canada Day. The workstations around Elizabeth were empty as many of her co-workers had left early in order to extend their time off. The first message was titled “Happy Canada Day?” and the sender of course was JimG.
The email said, “Plans for the long weekend?”
She yawned lazily and stretched her arms in front of her before typing in a reply. “David’s working on Monday all day I think. So, nope, sticking around home I suppose.”
It was the kind of banter that they’d shared before and she welcomed it. He’d never met David and she’d never met Jim’s wife, but they’d spoke of their spouses and shared details of their everyday lives. She knew that Jim’s wife, Amanda, had a seven year old boy who was from a previous marriage and, other than occasional weekends when he was with his father, he lived with them. This was marriage number two for both of them. Previously, Jim had been married to a woman called Jennifer, but he rarely spoke about her.
The next email came as she was entering her last log sheets of the day into her computer. It had no title but there was no doubt that it was from him. “I need you to help me on Monday, Elizabeth. I’m coming into the office to finish up some business and I’ll need you here.”
She stared at it for a few moments and then swiveled in her chair to look at him. He was turned towards her, not even trying to pretend he was working. He wasn’t smiling. He was just watching her carefully. He had his tan slacks on and his legs were stretched out in front of him. His arms were crossed and he almost looked as though he was asleep, but he wasn’t. She knew what he was doing. Those bright blue-green were fixed firmly on her.
There was no business reason for her to be there on Monday. The sales department was independent and he certainly didn’t need her there in order to make a sale. That wasn’t what he was telling her in the email. She knew that. In her head, Elizabeth, with her accountant’s mind, turned and looked back at the message and went through the logistics of meeting Jim at the office on Canada Day. David was working a twelve hour shift and wouldn’t be home until eight in the evening. Typically he’d come home and be too tired from his shift to even talk. He probably wouldn’t even ask her what she did that day. And, if he did, she’d tell him she’d gone into the office to do some work. She’d never done it before, but David probably wouldn’t question it. The office would be empty on Monday. There might be a security man downstairs but other than that, they’d be alone. And of course, somehow, the company’s star salesman must have a way to get into the building. It was all doable. They wouldn’t have to sneak around in the copier room. They could meet here in the office, just the two of them.
Her body was reacting to the possibilities as she stared at the email on her screen. She thought about the hungry way he’d looked at her in the copier room and the way his hands had lifted her effortlessly onto the table. For a brief moment she thought about David and just as quickly dismissed the thought and typed in a reply. There was only one answer. She had no choice.
She typed, “I’ll be here,” then looked back over at him. He kept staring at her. She knew he would have received the reply by now yet still he watched her, appraised her. Finally he turned to his desk and clicked his mouse. From across the room she thought she detected a faint hint of a satisfied smile on his face but she couldn’t be sure.
Trying to look as though she was working in order to satisfy any of her remaining co-workers who might be watching, Elizabeth sorted through some papers. She really did have some work that needed to be done. Clicking on the spreadsheets for her month end reports she quickly became engrossed in her work, checking numbers and totals. At first, she didn’t see him. She just smelled him. She smelled the scent of his cologne as he kneeled down beside her desk and faced her. Quickly, almost panicking, she looked around to see who was watching them. There were lots of empty desks. At the far end, closest to Jim, a couple of the salesmen were talking to each other and seemed to have no interest in what was going on anywhere else. To her other side, the side where her accounting colleagues sat, there were a man and a woman at their desks, a couple or rows over. From where they were, they could see that Jim had kneeled down on the other side of her desk, but still that didn’t look out of place.
Resting on one knee, he placed a stack of papers on her desk and pointed out a row of numbers. His voice was quiet, quiet enough that only she could hear him. “Don’t look around. Nobody can hear me and nobody can see what’s happening on this side of the desk.” Mutely, she nodded and looked at him. He looked calm and had his business face on. As he continued to speak in his soft low voice, his lip curled up slightly at the side. It was just the faintest hint of a smile or maybe a smirk, she couldn’t be sure. “Look at the papers, Elizabeth. Look at the papers and nod. Give me your best accountant’s nod, Elizabeth.”
Straightening up in her chair, she tried to look businesslike, and focused on the papers that had random numbers typed on them. Nodding, she pulled in a breath as she felt his other hand slowly moving under her skirt and onto her thigh. His hand was cold and he just let it sit there on her thigh. He was looking straight into her eyes and the smirk at the side of his lips started to grow. Still, she stared at the papers, nodding carefully, not knowing whether or not she was allowed to look at him.
“Fuck, you just can’t help yourself. Even right now you look so fucking hot.” As she turned towards him, he quickly admonished her. “Nope, keep looking at the paper. Touch it with your fingers, study it.” His hand was cupped around the top of her thigh now, stroking, squeezing. Expertly he slid his hand up further and slid his thumb and forefinger under her panties. Gasping, she looked around at the rest of the office. Still nothing. Nobody watching them. Now his hand was under her underpants, holding them away from her skin, away from her pussy.
She couldn’t move. Sitting trance-like, she could hear her own breathing and feel the beating of her heart. Finally she felt the pressure of his forefinger against her pussy lips. She’d been moist the moment his hand touched her thigh, but now it was as though someone had turned a tap on. She felt him slide his finger into her pussy. Involuntarily she pushed her back against her chair and slid her waist forward a little. And then, just as quickly as he’d put it in, he took it out.
“I just wanted to see how tight that little box of yours really was, Elizabeth.” Gently, he slid his hand out from under her panties and let it rest on her thigh once more. Leaning forward, he lowered his voice to a whisper. “It’s good, very snug. I look forward to spending more time down there. I’ll see you on Monday.” Then, almost as an afterthought, he added, “Oh, and wear something that’s easy to take off. I want to get you undressed as quickly as I can.”
Smiling, he stood up and spoke in a louder voice, loud enough for anyone who might be listening. “That’s fine then, Elizabeth. Thank you. I just wanted a sec
ond opinion on those figures.”
He walked back to his desk and picked up his briefcase before walking to the exit and leaving for the day. Elizabeth sat for a while, hoping that when she did stand up, the wetness of her panties would have dried a little and wouldn’t show through her skirt. Monday was three days away. She had a weekend with her husband then she’d be back in the office, just the two of them, her and Jim Gretzky.
Chapter Five
They were never supposed to live there, back in Vancouver. New Royal Canadian Mounted Police officers are never stationed back in their hometowns. Sometime before graduation they are given the option of where they’d like to begin their career. Usually their first pick is their hometown, but they never get it. David didn’t do this. With Elizabeth’s coaxing, David picked Calgary, Alberta, as his first choice and St. John’s, Newfoundland, as his second. Then, with his third choice, he penciled in Vancouver, never really thinking that it would happen. Elizabeth didn’t want to stay close to home. She wanted to experience somewhere different, somewhere new. Calgary was a booming oil town, full of excitement, and if that didn’t work out, then living in Newfoundland, on the picturesque east coast would be a very suitable second choice. She loved her parents, and would come home to visit them whenever she could, but it was a girl’s right to get out of the town that she’d grown up in. David, on the other hand, didn’t mind where they lived. He had no real roots and was happy to follow Elizabeth’s advice.
It didn’t happen though. While his classmates were transferred far away to small towns in the Canadian north or municipalities on the Prairies, David was stationed in Vancouver, back home. With his new wife’s disappointment evident, he decided to question his superiors. Unfortunately, they had no answer for him. His paperwork said he would be working at a precinct in downtown Vancouver. For the first six months he’d be doing general investigation duties. Then he’d be transferred somewhere in the city, but he was going to stay in Vancouver. There was no way around it. That’s where he was going, that’s what he’d been assigned. He was a new officer, and it certainly wasn’t a smart career move to question why he’d be working in the one place in Canada that he didn’t want to be working.
Undressing Elizabeth Page 4