by Carla Blake
A discreet cough made them both turn.
Veronica, Rachel’s supervisor, stood behind Rachel’s chair.
“I think.” Veronica said, addressing Phil. “That you should take Rachel’s advice and get back to your desk. I heard most of what you said and I don’t think Rachel deserves to listen to any more of your insults.”
“Oh, yeah?” Phil replied. “And what about the insults she’s directed at me? I could get her into serious trouble for some of the things she’s just said.”
“No doubt.” Veronica agreed, smiling sweetly. “But from what I heard Rachel didn’t say anything that wasn’t the truth and it would also be your word against Rachel’s, and who do you think they’re going to believe?”
Phil slouched off, but not before shooting daggers at Rachel. The slam of the door as he left the office made everyone look up.
Rachel sucked in a deep breath of relief. “Thank you.” She said to Veronica. “That man. I don’t know why he keeps picking on me.”
“Because he can.” Veronica replied. “But I would be a bit careful about what you say to him in future. He’s the kind of low life that would report you to management and I can’t guarantee that all of them would believe you. Try and bite your tongue next time if you can. Or come and get me.”
“Oh, don’t worry, I will.” Rachel said grimly. “I’ll bite it till it bleeds.”
The hours dragged on. Rachel cleared three files. Veronica sent her an instant message, suggesting she take her lunch break at a different time to Phil in order to minimize the amount of time she had to be in his company, and Phil eventually returned to his desk, taking out his temper on his keyboard until one of the keys came loose and pinged off the edge of his desk.
Rachel wanted to laugh, but heeding Veronica’s advice, managed to keep her back turned and her head down, ignoring him even when he swore out loud and proceeded to thump his desk so hard, his paperwork went flying and his coffee landed in his lap.
The instant message that simultaneously appeared on her screen, therefore, wasn’t seen for a good ten minutes and then, once she did notice it, she read it in a panic, thinking she’d missed something important.
She hadn’t. It was from Kate, inviting her to join her for a quick snog in the ladies, together with the information that the instant message would self-destruct in twenty seconds.
Rachel replied that her self destruct mechanism was crap because it was way over twenty seconds and then said she would meet her in two minutes. Then, hitting the ‘delete’ and watching the instant message disappear from her screen, she wondered where they all went? It wasn’t anything she’d really thought about before, mainly because until Kate had come along, all her messages had been about work and she didn’t care who read them. But now she wondered. Did they disappear forever, mysteriously evaporated by whatever jiggery-pokery lived in the computer, or where they stored somewhere in a secret file, accessible only by those in the know? And if that was the case, was Phil one of those who knew how to access them, because if he was, that would certainly go some way to explaining his question over who she had shared Christmas with? He already knew the answer and was now just digging for more information.
And who, if anyone, was he sharing that information with?
Kate was on her the minute she walked through the door.
“At last!” She cried, grabbing Rachel’s blouse and pulling her forward to kiss. “ I really wish you’d read your messages more often.”
“I’m sorry.” Rachel said, returning the kiss and then watching Kate hang the ‘cleaning in progress’ sign on the toilet door. “But I didn’t see it until just a minute ago. And there’s something else I think you should know about. I think Phil’s been reading our instant messages to each other.”
Kate looked startled. “What gives you that idea?” She asked.
Rachel told her.
“Shit! Are you sure?”
“No. It’s just what he said. And he looked over when he said it, right at you.”
“Might be a lucky guess then. You know what he’s like, he’ll say anything if he thinks he’s going to get a reaction.”
“I know, but he seemed pretty smug about this.”
“ Then who do we know who’s good with computers? Maybe they can tell us if deleted messages can still be retrieved.”
Rachel shrugged. “I’ve no idea, but we can’t ask anyone here. If we do that, they’re gonna want to know why we want to know and then we could really be in trouble.”
“So what do you suggest we do?”
Rachel bit her lip. “You aren’t going to like this, hon, but I suggest we cool it for a bit. Only at work mind you, not at home. Maybe if we only speak to each other when it’s to with work and not send any more instant messages, Phil will get bored watching us and leave us alone.”
“You think he’s watching us too!?”
“Could be.”
“Jesus! But how are we going to know if it’s worked, we’re not psychic.”
“No. But we can set a trap. We’ll wait a week, then if you send me a message asking to meet you here and anyone turns up, Phil included, we’ll know.”
Kate nodded her agreement then rather thoughtfully added, “ You don’t think Phil’s spying on us for Simon do you?”
“That’ what I thought.” Rachel admitted, “ but I don’t think it’s likely. For one thing, if Phil has told Simon about us, then I don’t think there’s any way Simon would have been able to resist turning up at your house and having a go, and secondly, like I said before, I really can’t see Simon hanging out with someone like Phil.”
“So I’m barking up the wrong tree then?’
“Probably.”
“Probably?”
“Okay. Definitely. Simon mates with Phil? It just doesn’t sit right.”
“Good. So, back to plan A.. What do we do if Phil does turn up?”
“Not sure.” Rachel said. “But we’ll think of something. In the meantime, weren’t you desperate to see me?’
“Well, yes, if you’re still in the mood.”
“Oh, I’m in the mood alright.”
“Good, cos I’ve been thinking about you all morning.” And heaving herself up so she was sitting on the washbasin surround with her back to the mirrors, Kate spread her legs wide and hitched up her skirt, revealing to Rachel that she wasn’t wearing any knickers.
Rachel laughed. “You filthy, little bitch!” She cried, moving towards her and stroking her thighs. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Whatever you like.” Kate smiled. “But I’m kinda hoping it might involve your tongue.”
“Oh, I’m going to use my tongue alright.” Rachel said, and sliding her finger into Kate’s vagina, she began to fuck her. Slowly and deliberately, working her until Kate’s juices made everything effortless and she could bend down and lick her throbbing clit.
To her surprise, Kate stopped her on the point of coming. “Play with yourself,” she urged breathlessly as Rachel looked at her enquiringly. “Touch yourself babe.”
Rachel did as she was told and abandoning her sweet exploration of Kate’s pussy, stood up and slid her other hand inside her own panties, figuring her swollen folds as she continued to slide in and out of Kate.
“So close.” Kate gasped, feeling her pussy swell with pleasure. “ Oh, God, Rachel, I’m so close! Fuck me, babe! Fuck me hard!”
In reply, Rachel slipped another finger into Kate’s slippery warmth, feeling her own body humming with pleasure and her own orgasm mounting, as she brought Kate off with one hand and herself with the other.
They came almost together, gasping and moaning and gushing and almost falling to the floor.
“ Oh, my God.” Rachel gasped, kissing Kate’s forehead. “That was so good! I don’t think I’ve ever come so fast.”
“Me
neither.” Kate replied, easing herself down from the shelf and nearly falling when she tried to stand on quivering legs. “God, my legs don’t work.”
“You’re not alone.” Rachel smiled. “Mine feel like jelly. Christ, I love screwing you. You were so tight. And moist.”
“Thanks.” Kate said. “And you? How ‘moist’ are you?”
Rachel kissed her on the mouth. “Plenty. Why?”
Kate smiled wickedly. “I want to find out?”
“But I’ve already come babe.” Rachel sighed. “Not sure I’ve got another one in me.”
“I bet you have.” Kate smiled, and standing Rachel up against the wall, she shoved her skirt up around her waist and then pulled both her tights and her knickers down to her knees. It wasn’t very sexy and it wasn’t very dignified but Rachel didn’t care and when Kate seriously began to turn her on again she wasn’t surprised. What she was doing felt so damn good and it wasn’t long before she was gasping and moaning all over again.
“You like that babe?” Kate murmured, looking up from where she knelt to play with Rachel’s clit. “Well it’s just going to get better. Gonna bring you off now hon.” And returning to the hardened, little nub she slowly began to rub.
Rachel thought she was going to faint, and when Kate slipped a single finger in to fuck her with whilst she was still playing with her pussy, she groaned aloud and swiftly gave in to the orgasm that was ripping through her body, making her come so hard that Kate was worried she might knock herself out against the wall.
“Seems like she did have another one after all.” Kate teased once Rachel had calmed down sufficiently to stand without assistance. “ Your pussy nearly ate me alive.”
“Next time it might.” Rachel smiled. “How long before we can go home?”
Frowning, Phil eyed the ‘cleaning in progress’ sign and wondered what business Rachel and in all probability Kate, had with the cleaning staff?
Rachel, he was pretty sure, was definitely in there. He’d seen her go through the door just as he’d reached the end of the corridor and where Rachel was these days, it was safe to assume Kate was too. But why were they using toilets while they were being cleaned and why were the cleaning staff allowing them to do it? Usually they shooed you out with a soapy mop, yelling at you to ‘come back in five minutes!’
He wished he had x-ray vision. Or failing that, the ability to hear through the heavy, wooden door, because if the cleaning staff were in there, then he really didn’t fancy having to explain why he was trying to take a piss in the ladies.
He looked both ways up the empty corridor, then back at the ‘cleaning in progress’ sign.
Sod it, he thought and tried the handle.
The door opened and quickly stilling the ‘cleaning’ sign with his hand, he peered through the gap and immediately spotted a bucket standing just inside the entrance. Pausing, and ready to explain his presence should a cleaner suddenly appear, he then realised he wouldn’t have to when he caught sight of a dry mop standing alongside it.
Nor was there any sign of the tell tale sting of disinfectant in the air. Only faded perfume and old hairspray. Conclusive proof, if he still needed it, that no one was swabbing the decks.
He pushed the door open still further. His smile turning to a grin when a stronger waft of perfume drifted towards him and able to identify it as the one Rachel usually wore, congratulated himself on the fact that he was about to stumble upon something that would get the pair of them sacked.
Then heels, striking across the tiles, brought him back to his senses – how the hell was he going to explain being in the ladies! – and swiftly backtracking he snatched at the door and shoved himself through it.
He almost made it too, the door starting to close in his face and exonerate him from any involvement, but then it was suddenly and savagely yanked open again, and left standing way too close to the entrance of the ladies toilet for any explanation to be worth the breath it took to speak, he muttered an apology and sped off down the corridor.
“So now we know it is Phil spying on us.” Rachel said, opening the lid to the rapidly cooling pizza that was congealing in its box between them. “What do we do about it?”
“Nothing.” Kate said confidently. “If we make a complaint then everyone is bound to find out about us and we’ll be gossiped about for months. But if we say nothing, then everyone will think Phil made it up and just ignore him.”
“So you think he will say something then?”
“Phil? Are you kiddin’? He’s probably practicing in front of his bedroom mirror as we speak.”
“Oh. God. What are we going to do?”
“Nothing babe. Who’s gonna believe him?”
“Who won’t you mean. Prime bit of gossip like this, shit Kate, everyone will be talking!”
“No they won’t! Did you believe him when he started that rumour about the kitchen staff nicking all the loo roll. Or when he said Samantha had been screwing the head of IT? Course you didn’t, no one did, and no one’s gonna believe him now.”
“But what if they do!”
“Then we deny it.”
“And you really think that’ll be good enough? God, if someone told me someone was gay, I’d want to talk about it.”
“Yeah, but not for long. Look Rach, everyone knows Phil is a nasty, little shit and if we deny it long enough then eventually everyone will get the message and move on to something else.”
“And in the meantime?”
“We keep our heads down and don’t give anyone reason to think there might be something behind the rumours.”
“Even if there is?” Rachel smiled.
“Even if there is.” Kate agreed.
Phil watched Simon walk across the floor of the wine bar and moodily sipped his wine. He hated this place. It was neither atmospheric nor cheap nor the sort of place he would have chosen to drink in if he’d had any choice. It didn’t even sell beer and the look the barman had given him when he’d tried to order a pint of best had been nothing short of disdainful. His suggestion that perhaps ‘sir’ might like to try the house red hadn’t helped either.
Because he was trying it and it tasted like shit.
The boy wonder, he noticed, was also making heavy weather reaching him. Opting for the scenic route around the other side of the bar, rather than having to squeeze past a table full of drunk office workers who looked like they might spill wine all over his expensive suit. Still, he thought sourly, at least it was giving him a few more minutes to work out why he had agreed to meet him in the first place because he didn’t even like the guy. He was a prat, a cleanliness obsessed, up in his own arse moron who thought the world was going to end if a bloody beer mat was out of place.
He reminded him of that bloke he’d read about in the paper. The one who wore a brand new pair of boxer shorts every day and then threw them away. He could see Simon doing that, except Simon probably wouldn’t take them out of the packet first.
And to think he’d met him on the terraces at a football match amongst the smelly, fag infested, beer splattered, burger reeking terraces. He never could figure out how Simon had stomached that, but there he’d been. Standing in his shiny, new suit, studiously ignoring him whilst he’d been yelling at the ref and wondering if Crystal, bloody Palace would ever make him feel ‘ glad all over’ like they promised in their bloody club song.
In the end they’d drawn and Simon had invited him for a drink to commiserate. He hadn’t even know him then either, but he’d said yes all the same, a pint was a pint, no matter where it came from and off they’d gone, no small talk on route, no shared anguish at the rubbish decisions made by the linesmen or the short sighted ref, just a clap on the shoulder and the offer of a pint to wash away the taste of disappointment.
They’d ended up in a swish wine bar and Simon had ordered a bottle of claret. It had tasted drier than sand
.
And now he couldn’t get rid of him.
Simon finally reached him and nodding at the barman, he fastidiously smoothed out his trousers before sitting down and silently accepting the glass of wine that appeared smoothly in front of him. Then, after fussily inspecting the rim for fingerprints, he raised the glass to his lips and savouring the dark, and to Phil’s mind, vomit tasting contents, finally turned to his companion.
“So, what have you got?” He asked, once the glass had again been set squarely on the pristine white drinks mat. “Anything?”
Phil nodded. “I’m fairly sure Rachel is seeing this Kate and fucking her.”
“Yes, we know that.” Simon said patiently, “ but have you got any further evidence aside from a few messages? Have you actually seen them together or are you just guessing?”
Phil bristled. “No, I’m not guessing.” He hissed. “I’ve seen them! Sneaking off together. And yesterday I almost caught them having sex in the ladies.”
“Really?” Simon asked, sipping wine. “And how do you know that?”
“Because I went in after them and you could smell it. Pussy.”
Simon laughed. “And that’s your proof? That you could smell pussy! You were in a fuckin’ ladies for Christ’s sake! Of course you could smell pussy!”
“Yeah, except there’s a difference!” Phil pointed out. “Christ mate, where have you been? Sex smells of sex and those two had definitely been at it. Now if you don’t mind I’ll take my money and bugger off. This soddin’ wine is doing my head in.”
Simon handed him fifty quid.
“And another thing.” Phil said, pocketing the notes. “Don’t call me again. If you want to get back at Rachel, then that’s up to you, but from, now on, you do it on your own, I don’t want anything more to do with it. Understand?”