'Oooooohhhhh… I-I shouldn't have let you touch my…!' Ann covered her face with her hands in humiliation.
'The hell with that shit! W-What are you, a cock tease?' he spat at her. 'You come tripping in here behind me with those big tits of yours hanging out, show me your breasts with your husband standing in back of you, then tell me that you have to work tonight. What's the matter? Aren't you getting enough in bed these days? Isn't that great sex researcher enough for you?'
The venom in his biting words burned into the young wife like eating acid, and she backed away from him with tears brimming up into her big, round eyes! God! What had gone wrong! It had all seemed so innocent and fun and then… suddenly… it wasn't so much fun anymore. Oooohhh… she'd truly blown it… blown it, damn it! And now she'd have to sit next to him all day remembering how lewdly she'd flirted with him.
'Hey, I'm sorry, Ann,' George's mellifluous voice calmed her and she felt her self-confidence soar from a minus one to a plus two. 'It's just that you got me so carried away. I-I was disappointed, that's all.'
'Hey! Are you two coming out of there or is there something you're looking for and can't find? If you're looking for the instant coffee it's on the shelf behind the tea pot,' Carl's voice reached out, a tone of uptightness barbing it.
Ann moved forward, quickly reaching for the ream of bond paper; she daintily wiped at her eyes as George said: 'Look, we have to work next to each other all day, so let's forget about this till another time, okay?'
The voluptuous, long-haired blonde wife didn't look at him. She knew that if she did she'd probably end up in the back seat of her Volkswagen at lunch time, fucking her husband's colleague till he blew the sun roof off her car. God, she'd never been any hotter, or closer to spreading her legs in her life! 'Yes, Dr. Everett, I think it's a good thing we get back to work.'
'Goddamn it, listen to me… wait… wait!' Ann heard him choke behind her as she brushed past him out into the outer office, every fiber of her alive with sensual excitement.
From the other side of the door Dr. Everett could hear Ann's solicitous words to her husband. 'I'm so sorry, dear, we were looking for the bond paper. Oh, we have so much to do, but I promise you can depend on me to get it done.'
A brief silence during which he imagined a give-away glance shooting in his direction… or was she kissing Dr. Dexter just as she'd been kissing him? 'The water is boiling for your coffee,' he heard her lie, wondering just what kind of a woman his middle-aged colleague married.
CHAPTER THREE
Ann sat nervously at her typewriter, her fingers poised and trembling above the keys as the electric machine's constant whirring noise seemed to reverberate around in her confused and tortured mind. God, there was so much to be done and although she generally worked best under pressure, this particular day was a very difficult one for the voluptuous young blonde. Her mind was a jigsaw puzzle whose pieces were scattered all over the floor waiting to be put back together again. Confused and nagging emotions fought against one another in her tormented mind; feelings and desires she never knew she could experience battled against one another and her thoughts seemed to have a dozen different sources at one.
After she'd gotten Carl off her back by shoving a steaming cup of coffee in his hands, she'd had to work with Dr. Everett breathing down her neck, intermittently brushing his hand on her leg up and down her thigh till she thought she'd go bananas for sure. Finally, as if by an act of God, Carl had called him into the back office for a weekly conference to plan the activities for next week.
'Damn!' she hissed under her breath as she made the third typo on that first line of the page. All thumbs, she felt her neck muscles tense and freeze in position. That would never do, she thought with gut hurting anguish. I can't boggle this work just because of some young stud. And as if her physically handicapped condition was not enough to cloud her mind, everything she typed had something to do with sex. God, it was driving her crazy!
She winced in anguish, still feeling the touch of Dr. Everett hotly slithering up and down her body. God, how stupid could one get? Pretty rotten, she inwardly seethed, sick at the thought of having him, that gorgeous hunk of man, right in her eagerly yearning little hands, then frittering away her hold through girlish reluctance. Damn, she'd never intended they be any more than lovers, an affair, maybe.
For what seemed like minutes, she stood there staring blindly out of the window, watching students spill out of the building across the street. Some stoop shouldered, disappointed and grim, others half skipping with the bounce of springtime in their airy steps. For a brief she imagined where she would be, what she would be doing, and whether she would be happy had she not married Dr. Carl Dexter. A stewardess flying to Australia, maybe? A model on the cover of Vogue?
'Uh, Mrs. Dexter, could you come in the office for a minute,' Dr. Everett's voice interrupted her wildly, dizzily spinning thoughts.
'Yes, of course, right away,' Ann answered, reaching down to pick up the file folder.
'No, you won't need that, Mrs. Dexter,' he said coldly, and then she knew she'd blown it! Without so much as a smile, he turned his back and disappeared into the wood-walled interior of her husband's office. Was this a joke?
Ann followed the tall doctor, her knees quaking, her hands still trembling, her full, fleshy thighs tremulously shaking, her full breasts quivering beneath her short knit dress as her chest heaved with heavy breathing. Once inside the office, Ann seated herself on the chair by the desk, directly opposite Dr. Everett who sat frowning over a series of ten pages that Ann had finished typing about half an hour earlier. The full breasted young blonde crossed her legs demurely and folded her hands across her lap to stop from trembling, then waited patiently for Dr. Everett to say whatever he had to say, hoping for dear life it had nothing to do with what had happened that morning.
'Uh, Mrs. Dexter,' he began awkwardly obviously finding it difficult to get to the point, 'this is… uh, the pages you typed this morning…?'
'Yes, Dr. Everett.' There was no trace of intimacy, let alone familiarity between them now; all business, the way it should have been those fateful hours earlier.
'I'm afraid there are a lot of mistakes you're going to have to correct before we can have these pages copied… some glaring errors that are very unlike you, Mrs. Dexter. Look here,' he concluded, pushing the papers across the desk toward her.
Ann looked at the typewritten page on the top. Five or six extraordinary obvious mistakes seemed to jump off of the white paper at her, almost as if they were pointing accusing fingers at the helplessly quaking wife. 'Oh, I'm so sorry, Dr. Everett. I really am. I… I'm… I'll fix it right away, of course. I'm… so sorry.'
'I know this isn't like you, Mrs. Dexter,' George's voice softened. 'But we are in a terrible rush, as you know… so if you could take care of them, it would be greatly appreciated.'
'Oh yes,' the distraught young woman cried. 'I don't know what's wrong with me, I've been all thumbs today.'
'Well, why don't you take what you have done and make three copies down the street at the Instant Press.' Finished he returned to his work, as if nothing had happened between them that morning.
In minutes, Ann had corrected the mistakes and a half hour later she was headed out the door, file folder in hand.
Even as she walked the short distance to the Instant Press, she could concentrate on little else but her handsome co-worker and the way she had stupidly bungled the whole thing – not only this morning by telling him she couldn't meet him, but by making all those typos! Of course, she could have gotten finished in time for a friendly after-dinner drink! Carl had never questioned her in that respect, whatever story she came up with, and most times it was just to get a break away from him and take in a movie, or a quiet relieving walk. Damn… was it too late? She could go back later and set it up for tonight. God knows, she was still that sensually excited… but no! No, she wasn't about to do that for any man! If… if only she could cool down a little bit! She was actually wet, wet between her legs, and no one but Dr. George Everett had done that! But dammit, she wasn't about to go back and beg… never!
Oh, what was the address of that damned place?
