I’m here in his office to make a stand. I’m going to show my husband that I’m more than just his wife. I’m going to show him that I’m a woman, a woman with needs.
Things have slowed down in our marriage. It’s been more than a year since we’ve last been physical and when I brought it up with my husband he revealed something big.
He valued me too much to sleep with me.
Striding into his office looking irresistible. All of their eyes were on me. All of them knew why I was here.
But he was unaffected. It was like he was ashamed of me being who I was. I didn’t know how to make him see the real me.
My husband treats me like I’m precious and fragile. He tells me he doesn’t want to be with me because he feels unworthy. He tells me that I would be sullied by him.
Walking out, abandoned and turned away by him, I pass his office. Not my husband but his bully, the coworker who makes his life a living hell. And this man, he doesn’t look at me like my husband does.
He looks at me like he wants me, like he wants to consume me. He looks at me like he wants to be with me, wants me on my knees and willing.
If I go into this office it would destroy my husband. It would show him once and for all that he wasn’t man enough for me.
But wasn’t that what I needed all along?
Excerpt
“Do you know who I am?” I asked him, ignoring his question and posing my own.
“Of course,” he leaned back in his chair, “You’re Alan’s wife, right?”
“I am,” I told him, taking another step forward into the office.
“If you’re looking for him he’s a few doors down,” he said, indicating the direction with one hand, “I’m sure he’d be glad to see you.”
There was something in the way that he said those words, a subtext that I filled in the blanks for. An implication that the way that I was dressed would be pleasing to any man. An idea that almost made me laugh since it meant that Trey clearly didn’t know my Alan.
“You would think that,” I said, “But I just came from there and he very politely told me to leave.”
“That’s a shame,” he replied, the implicit extra meaning being that Trey would never ask me to leave.
I smiled at that, knowing it to be the truth.
And I walked further into his office, sitting on the edge of his desk and turning to give him a side view of my body. I looked down at him and the smile flickered off of my face, my eyes speaking volumes about my intentions. Sending messages to him for the first time and trying my best to make them as clear as possible.
It had been so long since I’d done any of this. Flirting with a man was nearly a foreign concept to me. But as I saw him lean back and press up from his chair, standing to tower above me. As I saw his head cock to one side and a sly smile cross his face I got the feeling that maybe, just maybe, I still had it in me to pull this off.
“Here to visit hubby, huh?” he asked, “That’s why you walked into this office today?”
“Oh I had other plans,” I told him, musing and playing with my hair idly, “But it seems like Alan doesn’t want to play today. Such a pity, all of my planning and preparation just gone to waste.”
Trey leaned forward, his hand reaching out to my leg in a gesture that could have been interpreted as comforting if his grip wasn’t a bit too tight, if the position wasn’t a bit too high.
He stepped into me.
“That is a shame,” he said, “Him just tossing you out all on your own. Just think of all of the things that could happen.”
“If my husband wasn’t attentive to my needs,” I finished for him, watching as he stepped a little closer and his hand slid a little higher up my thigh.
“If your husband wasn’t attentive,” he repeated, my legs parting as he slipped inside and felt me for the first time.
His fingers playing against my wet sex, the tip of them running up and down my slit. One eyebrow raised as he pressed on and I spread my thighs further for him. Feeling him enter me as I sighed and bit my lip, ducking my head forward and pursing my lips in a little pout.
My hands reached for him, pressing against his chest more as a means to feel his muscles than to push him away from me.
“You wouldn’t push me away, would you?” I asked him, “You know how to treat a woman when she walks into your office not wearing panties, not wearing a bra, and asks you to fuck her?”
“I know,” he told me, pressing his fingers deeper inside of me as a low and quiet moan escaped my lips, “But she’d have to ask me.”
My hand snapped out and grabbed his forearm. I had an iron grip on it and my eyes were locked with his and I pulled him forward and pressed more of him into me. With a voice so quiet even he could barely hear it I spoke, I ordered him.
“Fuck me.”