Next to go was Lee, a frantic burst of red hair skittering to a large SUV. The bags on her shoulder hunched her over, her mouth moving a mile a minute, likely with cuss words flying.
At last, the lone wolf emerged, making her way towards a sedan at the end of the lot. Step by step, I watched in appreciation, her ass hugged by a black pencil skirt. I saw women like her all the time in Florida dressed in far less, but she had my undivided attention in her little getup.
My cock stirred as I pictured her in one of the tiny bikinis, her ass on display with those full, perky tits glistening. God, what I’d give to see it.
I chased the thought away and got back to work. July goals. July targets. July contracts. I skimmed through them all one by one, ignoring the growing bulge below.
No matter how many numbers I threw at it, my mind kept wandering back to her laying in the sand with the waves kissing her beautiful body. I fantasized about those full lips against mine, how they'd feel on my skin, dipping below to explore my cock.
I had to call it quits by six-thirty, my body throbbing from the bombardment of x-rated thoughts. I drove to the hotel blasting country, praying the honky-tonk bullshit would kill any trace of lust. Each twang of guitar and guttural yodel murdered my eardrums but did little to stifle any desire. In the end, I was wondering how she’d look in some cutoffs.
A brutal gym session was the only remedy, each burst draining the perversion, a cold post-workout shower banishing the trouser demon once and for all.
With Elena out of my system, I settled in for the night with Privately, the dating app I had been toying with for weeks. It was an anonymous setup, intriguing me from the start. An executive-level career demanded privacy and discretion, two things it offered plenty of.
A no-strings arrangement was a must. Relationships were too much work to maintain. Something always needed fine-tuning or repair. A new chick every few months was like taking a sports car out for a spin and exchanging it before wear and tear showed.
If I wanted more stress, I'd get a second job, not a girlfriend. Casual flings were the way to go. No expectations. No feelings. Just great sex.
I had been chatting with a woman from the area for a few weeks already, igniting things while still wrapping up in Tampa. Now that I was in town, there was no reason we couldn't take things off the app.
My cock demanded it.
Elena
When I wondered in the past if things could get worse at Croft, I was speculating, not challenging them to. Life took me up on the offer in the form of a six-foot-something grump who showed up three weeks earlier.
He remained in his office on the other side of the building, only wandering into the salesroom to hunt Marty down. He didn’t say a word to me, though he offered scowls and scoffs, and a shiny new lunch policy sent via email. There was an upside to his attitude, at least, since we could step away from our desks again.
Expectations were high and anxieties higher, as each department’s goal metrics were raised substantially. The surge in work caused a frantic rush to the finish each day, with Lee and I working in a flurry to make up for Monica.
She left after Marty daily as she just had, heels clicking in the distance across the lobby.
“I hate her more today than yesterday,” grumbled Lee, a fresh round of angry typing sounding from her station. “And I didn't know that was possible.”
I sighed, exhausted from the day. “Amen, Sista.”
Between primping, Monica fired off insults at whoever was in striking distance, all while falling short of her share of the daily input by a mile.
“Drinks tonight? Jesse is taking the kids bowling.”
I beamed, more than ready for a night out. Like Lee, I remained chained to my desk long enough to deserve a starring role in a cruelty commercial that day — sad song and all.
“Definitely. Where do you want to go?”
“Crow Bar, duh.”
“Hell yeah!” I skimmed my inbox, checking for any last-minute requests to complete along with the three-hundred lines needed to hit our goal.
“I'll meet you there,” Lee called, gathering her belongings. “I say we miss the mark. Marty has to do something about her.”
She had a point. Falling short of the daily target would draw attention, but I would do it even if it meant Barrett came sniffing around.
“Sounds good to me,” I agreed. “Let me finish up, and I'll meet you there. Grab a spot for us?”
“Will do,” she replied, hurrying off in a flash of red.
As I logged off, I spied a coffee untouched in its Styrofoam prison beside my phone. I headed to the break room to give it a farewell sendoff.
Grabbing a cocktail for Thirsty Thursday had the potential to salvage the week. Perhaps I'd meet a dashing bad boy with a penchant for business-casual brunettes. Stranger things had happened.
Once I reached the break room, a crudely written OUT-OF-ORDER sign greeted me, hung with smudged tape on the closed door. “Damn.”
I whirled toward the women's room as a desperate plan B, ready to get the hell out of there. At least it offered a mirror to take an inventory of my haggardness. I likely looked like a foot and a troll had a love child after a long day squinting at screens. My body was feeling the effects, at least, cracking and popping with each step like rice cereal.
Always the graceful one, I cut it short rounding the corner, careening into the wall and bouncing back to land on the floor. Coffee splashed everywhere, my white blouse sprayed in an oh-so-attractive milky brown
