Over happy hour drinks, my married coworker found out about my female desires and was oddly intrigued.
She’d bring it up whenever she could and would sometimes call and ask about my experiences. I could heard the deep breathing, the excitement, and knew the moment she slipped her wedding band laden hand between her legs. I loved hearing her trying to cover her stifled moans.
At work, she was calm, cool, and collected - except she’d blush when I’d make conversation or eye contact.
But after… she needed to know more. She needed details. She finally admitted that her curiosity had taken over.
She was calling me regularly- at all hours- anytime she could get away from her husband and kids. She also stopped caring that I knew she was masturbating. Now she openly had loud, body-shaking, intense orgasms.
A couple of times she FaceTimed and teased with glimpses of her rubbing furiously as I described what I’d do if we were together. Watching her body tremble as she released grunt after grunt was incredibly erotic.
At work she made more conversation and would walk by my desk, sometimes letting touching my arm or shoulder.
I hadn’t made a move… I was leaving it up to her. (She had mentioned her being committed to her marriage- lesbian fantasy masturbation aside).
And then came the announcement that she’d be joining us on a work trip. We didn’t talk about it.
Once there, everything was professional, even at the opening night’s conference mixer. She once again came across as calm and cool.
And then there was a soft knock on my door.
There she stood, nervous and excited at the same time. Now I was intrigued. I let her in. Clearly, the drinks at the mixer had give her liquid courage.
As soon as the door closed, she announced that she was ready.
I knew what she meant, but asked,”Ready?“.
“I… want you to…make love to me”, she mumbled, looking down.
I lifted her face to meet my gaze.
“Yes,“ she answered breathlessly. “I’ve been waiting for this.”
She melted into me as I kissed her. We moved to the bed. I took my time, undressing, kissing, caressing, touching, nibbling, licking all the sensitive areas of her body, except one.
By the time my fingers began exploring, she exploded in her first orgasm.
And when I was between her legs, she orgasmed several more times.
For the duration of the conference, we were in bed (or in the jacuzzi) every spare moment. I lost count of her intense orgasms. She confessed to never having been so satisfied.
The last morning we had a long session (since she said she didn’t know when we’d be able to be together again). There wasn’t an inch of her body that was left untouched (or unlicked). She told me she didn’t want to go back.
And then we returned to real life.
She didn’t call me that weekend. I figured she was tending to her family.
The following Monday she didn’t acknowledge me. No looks, no conversation… nothing.
When I exited the stall in the ladies room, there she stood. Her demeanor was cold.
“I wanted to tell you… I can’t do this. I’m married. And I always will be. I love my husband. I’m not a lesbian. So please, leave me alone.”
I nodded. “No problem. I have and will continue to leave you alone. But remember… YOU came to me. YOU asked for it to go further. Don’t worry, I won’t ever fuck you again.”
I left her standing there.
It was disappointing, but it was what it was.
We spoke or interacted (about work related issues), only when we had to.
A few months went by when the phone calls began. An anonymous caller who wouldn’t say anything.
After a few seconds they would hang up.
“What do you need,” I’d ask.
And I’d hear the familiar breathing, the soft moans.
I’d let her finish then hang up.
She still calls now and then.
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