(This is based on actual events that took place earlier in my life…)

My bruised face spoke a million words... Shelly sat across from me at the small circular table in the mini-conference room. As soon as I walked into work after my two-day emergency leave and Shelley saw my state, she immediately came over and said she wanted to talk to me.

"What the hell happened, Sid?" she asked gently. "You look like hell!"

My hands were on the table, fingers interlocked showing my wedding ring. Her hands were on the table as well, palms down, white and pink nail varnish and plain... no ring. Shelley had always been too geeky, too much of a workaholic to have ever held down a long-term relationship. I had only known her for two years but my inquiry about my new supervisor had yielded enough information for me to figure out why she was still single at the age of forty-five. Myself, I had only ever been with one woman... my wife... with whom I had fallen in love during university. But unfortunately, what I had not accounted for was my filthy, deep-rooted love of sex with anyone but my wife. And after years of infidelity, prostitutes, massage parlors, and a whole lot of fucking, my luck had run out and my wife caught me three days prior. Sharing is caring until you share your phone with your wife, your last fuck calls and your wife answers.

"Shelley... there is something about me that no one knows here..." I spoke softly, almost whispering as I raise my head and made eye contact with her. "This thing... I have had to deal with this for years. And it finally caught up with me on Sunday."

"What? You have some kind of illness?" she enquires.

I lower my gaze down and focus on her hands. “Shelley… I had a very troublesome upbringing. I was exposed to sex very early and it has left me with an addiction. I cannot control myself and over the weekend, my wife caught me. That is why I look the way I do. It is so bad, I have to go out at lunchtime during the week to visit massage parlors around here.” Shelley laughed and suddenly reached out her hands and placed them over my clasped hands.

“Sid… I have learned in my life that all men, given the chance, will cheat. Their brains can’t handle the sight of a sexy woman and I am talking about both brains!”

She giggles again and squeezes my hands. “Your wife will forgive you and you guys will be fine. The question is though, can you control this desire you have?”

I look up at her and notice how her head is tilted to one side. She is twiddling with her hair and her eyes are not on my face but moving down and back up to my face, slowly. I feel a sudden bolt of electricity shoot into my groin. I suddenly get up and walk towards the door.

“Hey, Sid! Where are you going?” she enquires.

“I think we are done.” and I walk out of the door. My heart is beating fast, my hands are clammy and my cock hardening. Can’t believe this is happening, even after what I have just been through. I push my feelings aside and focus on the day ahead.

Over the course of the next few weeks, things at home settled down but work was becoming very strange. Shelley had always been a rather conservative dresser and was always mindful of her private space. However, since that meeting, something had changed.

She was dressing more provocatively: low-cut blouses, shirts with not one but two buttons undone, and she was hovering around my desk a lot. Not just hovering – placing her hand on my shoulder, leaning forward so her cheek was inches from mine when reviewing work on my laptop. And I was struggling with this. Oh hell, I was fucking struggling.

She was not Scarlett Johansson or Megan Fox sexy, but she was damn hot. Fuckable sexy. And she was flaunting it... in front of me. It was all sexual energy and sexual tension but nothing physical. I could not let this pull me back into something physical. I was enjoying the feeling but that's where I had to keep it. I had made a conscious decision to control my desires... my deep, animalistic, dark inner want to fuck.

And then it happened. It was bound to happen but I was hoping it wouldn't happen. One day as it was approaching home time, I decided I had had enough and I got up a few minutes early and started heading toward the exit. I heard running footsteps but couldn't quite make out from where. I looked back as I was walking and didn't notice Shelley step right in my path, with her back towards me. I bumped into her just as I was turning to face forward. I turned my face right into her gorgeous-smelling blonde hair. The mixture of her scent with her perfume was like some potent sex pheromone and I had an instant reaction in my pants. That reaction sent a message direct to Shelley via her ass which my hardening cock was pressing into. She turned her head slightly and at the same time, she gave her ass a wriggle. She giggled gently.

"I fucking knew it! Oh, how much I have thought about this moment! I do turn you on, don't I?" she whispered.

I noticed her hands by her side starting to move back. Before I could give the situation a chance to develop, with my shaking hands I held her by her hips and almost lifted her out of my way. It made her gasp.

"Shelley, please don't do this. Don't make this harder than it already is for someone like me," I said to her. I didn't wait for a response and walked out of the office.

That night, I dreamt of fucking Shelley... fucking her multiple times. It was the first time since getting caught I had felt that uncontrollable desire to want to fuck. I tried to deal with it by having sex with my wife. But sex with my wife was sex with my wife... it wasn't the same as fucking Shelley. That inner demon, that uncontrollable desire was left bubbling under the surface.

The following day, Shelley was as cold as ice. She would disappear for long periods of time, and the times when she was around the office, she would avoid any interaction with me. I felt a sense of relief because I was starting to doubt whether I was able to resist the advances Shelley was trying to make. Little did I know, Shelley was putting in place a plan which would leave me completely helpless.