It was as if we were in a B-movie rom-com.
I had been on vacation for a couple of weeks, and when I came back to work that Monday morning, there were at least ten new employees that had started in my absence. This wasn’t a surprise, as the company that I work for is expanding, and they were building out and outfitting new workstations (“cubicles” in layman’s terms) before I left.
It just so happened that the regional manager had arranged a reception that evening at a local restaurant as a “meet-and-greet” for the new employees, which I attended. Introductions were made over cocktails, and then there was a dinner for the management team and the “newbies”. Between the cocktails and dinner, I was pretty sure that I now knew each new employee by name and position, even though none would be working in my unit.
So, I was surprised the next morning when, while seated at my desk, I saw someone, a woman, walk past that I did not recognize. But since I was getting ready to hop onto a conference call, I didn’t follow up. In fact, it slipped my mind entirely until right before lunch.
I was just about to walk out of my office when Karen, our office HR rep, walked up with the person I’d seen walk past earlier. I immediately wished that I had taken notice of her earlier. She had long blond hair, bright blue eyes, pouty lips, and was slim with a modest bosom and cute little ass. She looked to be about thirty, and was wearing a smart looking dress that was a little tighter, a little lower cut, and a little shorter than most of the older women in the office.
“Bill, this is Kelly, Kelly Morgan. She’s a new account coordinator in the energy unit. Kelly is starting today because we didn’t have her workstation set up yesterday.” Karen then turned to Kelly. “Kelly, this is Bill Simpson, Mr. Simpson. He’s the director of the national accounts unit.”
“Pleased to meet you, Kelly,” I said, as I extending my hand.
“Pleased to meet you, Mr. Simpson,” she replied, rather timidly. She took my hand to shake it, and at that moment something passed between us that both of us felt. I’m not sure where she felt it, but I’m pretty sure it was in the same general physical area where I did, because her breath caught, and her pretty blue eyes grew wide. She quickly withdrew her hand. “I look forward to working with you,” she said, her voice quavering. She was visibly shaken. My groin was tingling.
Karen apparently did not notice, as she took Kelly by the elbow. “Okay then, let’s move on. You need to meet a few more people.” As she was steered away, Kelly looked back at me over her shoulder. I couldn’t quite read the look on her face, but I had a feeling that I’d know soon enough.
The rest of the day was unremarkable. I was still trying to catch up from being out for two weeks, and had closed my office door (being one of the few people in the office that had an actual office with a door) so that I wouldn’t be distracted. I didn’t even notice the passing of time until I heard a knock on my door. I glanced at my monitor and saw that it was already five. Quitting time.
The knock repeated. “Enter,” I said. The door opened. It was Kelly. She stood outside, not daring to cross the threshold. “Don’t just stand there,” I instructed, “come on in.”
She quickly entered, but stopped when she was about halfway between the door and my desk. She stood there, apparently trying to figure out what to say. I raised an eyebrow, which made her even more hesitant. I was about to say something when she finally blurted out, “I just wanted to say goodnight, and that it was great to meet you, and …”
“And?”
She turned red. “Um … well, it’s just that when we shook hands, I …”
“I felt it, too,” I offered, trying to bail her out of her embarrassment.
“Well, okay then … um, good night!” She quickly turned and left.
For the rest of the week, I could feel her constant tracking of me. No matter where I was in the office, no matter where she was in the office, she was always looking at me. When our eyes met, she always smiled. But, she still had that indecipherable look on her face when she didn’t know that I was watching her watching me. It was starting to get a little creepy, truth be told.
Friday came; it was both a “Casual Friday” and a “Payday Friday”, so everyone was in high spirits. By late afternoon, a large and diverse group had made plans to go to out for drinks at the bar halfway down the block. At five, there was a knock at my open door. It was Kelly, taking full advantage of Casual Friday by wearing a flimsy white blouse that was sheer enough to reveal the equally flimsy and sheer bra underneath. I swear that I could tell the size and color of her areola and nipples: smallish and dark pink. As well as the fact that they appeared to be aroused. Tight faded jeans that accentuated her firm butt and three-inch heels completed the ensemble.
“Mr. Simpson, are you coming out for drinks with us?”
I hadn’t planned on it, and was intending to decline, when I saw that the look on her face was one of hope that I would say “yes”. She was practically begging with her eyes. “Sure,” I replied. “Sounds like fun.” She beamed. “But only one drink. I need to come back and get some more work done.”
“Okay,” she said, sounding more excited than the situation called for, “I’ll see you there.”
By the time that I got to the bar, everyone looked to be on at least their second drink. I was looking for a place to sit when Kelly waved me over. She was at a table for two. There was an empty beer glass in front of her, and she was about to finish number two. “I was afraid that you weren’t going to come,” she said, as she motioned for the waitress. “What’ll you have, Mr. Simpson? My treat.”
“Glenfiddich 18, rocks, no water,” I told the waitress. I was going to tell Kelly to just call me Bill since we were outside the office, but I kind of liked the respect that she was showing me.
“Another Stella, please,” Kelly ordered, and then turned to me and laughed. “So, let me guess, you like your Scotch like you like your women, single and eighteen?”
I laughed back. “Yeah …. Well no, actually. At my age, an eighteen-year-old is too much trouble; too much drama.”
She thought about that for a minute. “So how old are you, then, Mr. Simpson? I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Sixty-two,” I admitted, still liking that she was calling me “Mister”.
“Perfect,” she muttered.
“What?”
“Um, you don’t look sixty-two.” Which is true, not to brag or anything. But I wasn’t convinced that she was complimenting me. It sounded more like a diversionary tactic.
“So how old are you?”
“Thirty, as of a month ago.” So I had guessed correctly.
Just then our drinks came. “Cheers!” I said, raising my glass. “And welcome to Argelion Holdings.”
We sat and drank. Well, I drank. She seemed intent on telling me her life story, winding up with how lonely it was being single in a new town at a new job just as I finished my Scotch. “I can’t even remember the last time that I’ve been out with a man,” she said, wistfully. Then she looked at me, with that same cryptic look that she’d had all week. “One more?”
“No, but thanks. I really do need to go back and get some work done. Another Scotch and I’d be in no condition.”
She pouted. “Well, alright then.” She motioned the waitress to bring the check. “Say, since you are going back, would you do me a favor?”
“Depends.”
She gave the waitress cash to cover the tab and a pretty nice tip. “I forgot to take my laptop home with me, and I still don’t have a key to the building. Would you let me in so that I can get it?”
“Sure, I can do that.”
We left, and had only walked a few feet down the street when it was obvious that between the three beers on an empty stomach, and her high heels, she was more than a little “wobbly”. So, being the gentleman, I held her hand and let her lean into me as we made our way back. We rode the elevator up the same way.
The doors opened on our floor, and as we stepped out, she started to lose her balance. I tried to grab her at the waist just as she tried to put her arms around my neck to try to keep from falling, and we ended up in a hug as we fell to the floor. I was quick enough to turn so that I hit the ground first, cushioning her fall but slightly stunning me.
It was just a few seconds, but when I “came to”, I was flat on my back and she was on top of me. We were face-to-face, with my arms still around her waist and her arms still around my neck. Her small breasts were tight against my chest, and her lower torso was in firm contact with my pelvis. I was about to say something when she leaned in even closer and kissed me on the lips.
My rational brain was telling me that this wasn’t a good idea: junior female employee, senior male manager, the influence of alcohol, after hours on company premises. This was a combination that would end up in a lawsuit and someone getting fired, most likely me. My animal brain, on the other hand, was telling me that this was a great idea: hot young girl, lonely and horny, all alone in a deserted office.
I could feel my cock get hard as the animal brain won out. I kissed her back, pushing my tongue past her lips that she parted willingly. I took an ass cheek in each hand, pulling her to me as I ground my burgeoning member against her.
She suddenly pulled away, letting go of my neck as she sat up, still astride my tumescent manhood. Her hair was wildly, sexily strewn across her face and shoulders. Her face was flush; her breathing was ragged and shallow. I reached up, taking her breasts in my hands. Even with the blouse and bra, I was able to grip each nipple, gently squeezing them. She covered my hands with hers, forcing me to cup each swell more fully.
