NOTE: This story is entirely a work of fiction. If you are easily offended by sexual subjects, you probably shouldn’t read this. But if you’re not offended, ENJOY!
* * * * *
He is what I consider the perfect mix of man…intelligent, handsome, funny, and a truly nice guy. And over the first few months that we worked together we became somewhat acquainted.
And steadily he became a hot topic among the lunch gossip at Frank’s Deli, even among my daily lunch group of fellow married women. “Have you girls checked out the new guy in Accounting?” asked Kaye. “That cologne he wears, and his butt! Whoa! Who HASN’T been looking as he walks by?” exclaimed Rebecca.
I made sure to exclude myself from their conversations so as not to arouse suspicion, but I had, of course, been watching him all along. And quite a few times I had caught him watching me…I would just flash a smile at him and turn away, embarrassed. For although the fantasy of being kartal escort with him contained endless possibilities, I knew that my conscience and morals would never allow anything between us besides friendship. “Unfortunately,” I thought more than once, & sighed inwardly. And anyhow, who was I to think that the attraction could possibly be reciprocal?
So the months went by, and although I’m sure he had lots of offers, he remained single. Happily, I got to know him better – we talked often and went out with groups to lunch and to the occasional Happy Hour after work when I could get away. The way I reconciled in my own head – better a friend than nothing at all. But the better I got to know him, the stronger my attraction became. I found his combination of good qualities well & truly irresistible.
One Friday night, I found myself working late. Since my husband was out of town, I volunteered for the last bostancı escort shift to give the other girls a much needed break. I wrapped everything up by 6:30 – and then proceeded directly to The Frosted Mug, the unofficial after-work gathering place, for a much needed beer.
Expecting to see the usual mix of after-work revelers, off-duty policemen, & homeless people, I was shocked to find no one I knew in sight. I sat right down at the bar, ordered my usual Friday Foster’s, and asked the barmaid where the crew was.
“Well, honey, there were only about 5 of your crowd here, they each had 1 drink, and then decided to pack it up and go home. Well, they all did, except for HIM. And he bought your first round already.”
I followed her pointing finger to a back table, where he sat alone. Our eyes met, and he beckoned to me to join him. My conscience screamed at me instantly. “This isn’t right! You’re maltepe escort a married woman! Wave goodbye to him and walk out the door!”
If my legs had any ability to obey my conscience, I think, no, I’m sure I would have done just that. But on this particular night, I was tired of the constant inward fight with myself. And so it was that I found myself walking to his table, eyes locked on his, drink in my hand, and a sharp lightning strike of arousal ending somehow on both my nipples and my clit.
Oddly enough, he was drinking a Coke, and he had ordered a Diet Coke for me. “How did you know that’s what I drink?” I asked. “Well, I see you every day with at least 2 of these!” he answered. I sat my beer down next to it and took a long swig of the soda instead. “So, what’s the deal?” I asked. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a bar with a pop in your hand!” He laughed and then looked intently and a little shyly at me. “Well, I have to admit, I have a plan for tonight, and I wanted to stay sober. Did you have your heart set on staying at the bar?”
My heart was banging in my chest, and I felt my nipples and clit begin to tingle even more. My pussy, that had become damp when our eyes first met, began to drip. I heard myself as through a fog. “No, I really don