“Right there, honey,” she groaned, reaching up to pull his shoulders in towards her body. He grunted and thrust harder and harder into her at her slippery angle. She let out a grunt of her own. “I wish you fucked me like this all the time, baby…”
“Stay…” he muttered.
“No, baby…”
“Stay,” he groaned, his balls smacking against her thighs now, his fingers pulling her skirt higher up her belly, his legs shaking as he drove himself higher and deeper inside of her. He thought of Katie in her bikini. He thought of Margaret’s eyes when she came. “You gonna cum?” he said.
“Almost.”
“Cum for me, Katie.”
“Al-”
“Cum!”
He blew his load inside her and froze mid-plunge. Margaret sighed and moaned and twisted against him but they both knew she had stopped just before the threshold. There were too many people between them. His dick twitched and convulsed inside her and it felt good; they both shivered with the sensations of their tingling nerve ends.
When he pulled out and messily stuffed himself back between his zipper, it felt cheapened.
She pulled her skirt down over her thighs.
He wiped some hair from her forehead and swallowed. “That stuff about being in-”
She laughed him off of it before he had a chance to finish. “He’s probably already pulled up front. Give me a kiss for luck.”
Dale grabbed her and pressed her hard against the door. Margaret melted against him and opened her mouth. Her jangled nerves wanted to pull him back inside her to finish what he’d started but her wounded heart and frayed emotions wanted the same. So it was only her common sense that pulled her back from the brink of a terrible mistake: telling him how she felt. She left him with a swift peck and an admonishment (while she grabbed a tissue from his desk and wiped underneath her skirt): “When I get back, this… you know this isn’t permanent?”
“I know,” he said. “I know, I’m sorry.”
“No,” she said quickly. “Please don’t be sorry. It’s my fault as much as yours, I… like it. I, uh-” She bit her lip. She swiped at a few stray strands over her ears and made herself as presentable as she could. “It’s not a habit we should get into.”
“No,” said Dale.
“I mean, you’re just looking for a pussy to fuck.”
Dale’s mouth fell open. Margaret stared at him, aghast at herself.
“That’s-” he started.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“That is what you meant,” he said. “That is what I- Margaret.”
“Sorry,” she said. She unlocked the door quickly and pulled it open.
“Don’t-” he said. She was hurriedly packing her things into her purse and laptop bag. “Margaret-” Then she was powering off her computer and clacking away. On one shoe.
Dale dashed back into his office and nabbed her shoe from the floor. He sprinted down the office towards the elevators where Margaret was just stepping through the doors. There were another two co-workers behind her and he ignored her incredulous stares as he dashed between the shutting doors.
Thankfully the two were chatting about the latest office meme because it laid the perfect cover for him to squat down and tie his shoe, dropping Margaret’s soft heel beside her foot and gently fitting it over her toes and against her heel. He coughed and raised himself back up, the conversation behind them continuing unabated and her now staring up at him with a stiff, cagey smirk on her face.
“Like Prince Charming,” she whispered.
He glanced down at her. “Anytime, Cinderella.”
The doors opened and the men politely went out on either side of him. Margaret went with them; he could even see Nathan waiting patiently outside the lobby doors in her mini Coop. She didn’t turn, she didn’t say anything else, but Dale had the distinct impression that their tryst, hot, however brief, was concluded. She’d said too much, apparently, without really saying anything at all. And he’d cum in her. And she’d let him. And he wanted her.
But maybe she was right. Maybe he just wanted whoever was willing, younger, kinkier.
Or maybe she was wrong, but she did deserve to be loved by someone who treated her as more than a surrogate and was waiting to pick her up. Could have been him? Never.
He had a wife, three kids, a mortgage, a job, a secretary, and a steadily raging libido that threatened to turn all of his relationships into sex drenched disasters. The elevator pinged and he stepped out and back onto his floor. He glided innocently back to his office and shut the door. And finished another working day.
* * *
That was two weeks ago. It felt like a lifetime ago. When she came back next week he expected Margaret to be professional, and courteous, and kind. But they were finished. Because Margaret had self control, and she wouldn’t be another woman’s substitute. She was worth loving, and Dale honestly hoped Nathan held up his end in that union (though he had his suspicions about who wore the pants in that relationship).
It had been a long day, longer than it had to be. But with the latest acquisition and Ryan putting in the extra hours, Dale had to make a good impression with the board. The truth was, he didn’t need to do the overtime, he did his job and he did it better than any three of his colleagues. But that wasn’t the way it worked.
He debated sleeping in the city, or even at the office, but he decided that nine o’clock wasn’t really that bad. So he made the long trek down the building and into the parking garage, said good night to the security guard and drove home.
Katie, at least, would not be a problem. She would no doubt be out with her friends, or Chris, and he could get to bed unharassed. They had come to a kind of understanding, he thought, maybe one where they could all go back to their normal lives.
Dale sighed and pushed his forehead into his hand, resting his elbow against the window. Yeah, right.
He ate a decent meal at a little Italian place just ten minutes from the home. He didn’t want to make anything when he got in and it was highly likely that anything Mary had made was already gobbled up by his sons. They were growing boys; he didn’t begrudge them that. He hoped they were out and about tonight too, fresh from college and sowing wild oats. For God’s sake, he thought, please be sowing now. Get it out of your system.
He thought about Margaret banging her fiancee on vacation and grew hard enough that he had to wait a minute before stepping out of his car onto the driveway. What he needed was a good fuck. He hoped Mary would be in the mood, and he hoped he could convince her if she wasn’t.
It was ten o’clock when he walked through his front door and by the sky and the smell in the air he had no doubt that it would be raining by morning. The house around him was empty and dark. He loosened his tie and entered his study, sliding his briefcase under his desk and putting his phone into its charger. Then he began to mount the stairs.
He was glad now – as he usually was at these hours – that his wife and he had sprung for that California King bed. It was a big bed and it allowed them to both stretch out. They seldom spooned anymore and the wide expanse of the bed afforded them their distinctive territories. As he climbed to the top of the steps he could hear sobbing. Not loudly. But someone crying. And it didn’t sound like his wife but it was coming from their bedroom.
Dale pushed open his bedroom door and saw two women curled up on his bed. The first was his wife. She was wrapped in her robe, her dirty blonde hair up in a relaxed pony tail, her big eyes sympathetic and acknowledging him there, her big breasts tastefully closed off from view by the well knotted robe. Her perky nose and her high cheekbones were the two ageless, endearing things about her face, and they were shared by the woman crying in her arms. The other woman was younger, lithe, with her long legs leading down from her nightie and her small feet tucked up under her ass, which poked out from under the silk. He could see the white slip of her panties curled over the supple, smooth skin, skin that almost glowed with its vitality, skin that revealed the toned and shapely contours of her thighs, calf muscles, abdomen. The long neck of the girl led to a mess of bright golden curls that were buried now in her mother’s neck. It was Katie, and she was crying.
Dale strode to the edge of the bed. “What’s going on?” he said.
Mary patted Katie’s back and shook her head. “She and Chris just broke up.”
“Oh,” said Dale. “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say.
Suddenly Katie broke away from her mother and practically threw herself at him. Dale ended up with her in his arms, up on her knees on the bed, with her breasts pushing into his stomach. There was very little between her sheer nightgown and his shirt and he could feel her little nipples poking into him. “Uh-” he started, not putting his hands around her.
“Dale!” his wife chided.
He wrapped his arms around Katie’s back and tried not to squeeze her too tight. “I’m sorry, honey, I really am.” She cried into his arm for another minute or two and he and his wife exchanged spousal glances.
After a time Katie excused herself to clean up and Dale went into the bathroom to change. He talked to Mary about the day as he threw his clothes into the hamper and pulled on his pajama bottoms. Not knowing if they’d see Katie again that night, he threw an undershirt on as well. After about ten minutes, and no sign of the girl, Dale slipped back into bed and kissed his wife on the cheek.
His wife smiled at him and patted his shoulder.
“Are you in the mood?” he said.
“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. I’m just worried about Katie. She really liked Chris.”