How an affair begins...

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
The story of young woman who falls in love with an older married man. A very basic look at how they ended up where they are.
This is just the start of what I hope will be a slightly longer story. However, if it is rubbish I won't carry on! Opinions would be lovely :)

Submitted: August 01, 2011

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Submitted: August 01, 2011

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She noticed him. Noticed him from her first day. She was a naïve 17 year old, making her way into the world. Amazed to have been given a job as a secretary at world famous company, known to everyone she knew. Upon learning where she had landed a job her friends all gasped and congratulated her.

She noticed him on her first day, and every day after that. He was her manager. He was the man who would giver her orders from day to day. He told her what to do, and she did it, happily. 
As time went on, she noticed everything about him, his pristine facial hair, always shaved to perfection, his always slightly too gelled hair, the way he walked, and talked. As the months went by, she noticed the slight lines appearing on his face, the first sign of a grey hair or two, the normal things that happened to a man when he reached his late thirties. She noticed the way he looked at her. His lingering glances, the smiles, the winks. She began to notice the butterflies in her stomach when he congratulated her on a job well done, the way her cheeks would burn red when he would wink at her, the way she began to ache inside when he would accidentally touch her hand.
She also noticed the wedding ring. The photos of the children in frames along his desk. She knew he was unobtainable. And that was the way it was always to be. She would dress herself up for him, and do anything he asked, but she knew it would never, could never lead anywhere further, as much as her heart, her whole body ached for him.
She knew, with time, that he did not feel the same as her. He would call her into his office, and she would feel nervous. He would ask her to close the door, and she could feel her palms start to sweat. This is when he would tell her off. For things she had or hadn’t done. Things that were not in her control. Things that had nothing to do with her. And yet he would still shout at her, make her feel useless. She would leave his office, and cry silent tears in the bathroom, but she would still long for him. This made her cry even harder.
She found it hard to understand. The smiles, the winks, the way she would catch him looking at her, and yet, he could be so horrid to her. She was young, and she felt it.
 
Friday evenings were a lot of fun. Many of the staff members would hop on a tube to a swanky pub, or bar, or even a nightclub, depending on the mood, celebrating the weeks work. Congratulating each other on winning contracts, selling unnecessary items to foolish customers, easily persuaded that this item would make them that much better than everybody else. It reminded her of a story her mother read to her as a child ‘The Emperor’s New Clothes’.
She would go along to these outings every once in a while, normally persuaded by him. His promises of buying her a drink. If that didn’t work, he would resort to threats of cancelling time off, or a larger work load, if she did not come for one drink. During these nights out, he would rarely begin sitting with her. He would sit with the other managers, and directors, talking business. She would sit with the assistants, and receptionists, gossiping about day to day office life. Who had been seen with whom., why what's his name had been fired, that kind of thing. She would notice that each time he got up, he would return to the table a seat closer to her. She would turn her head, to find him staring at her. They would both quickly look away, she could feel her cheeks going a letterbox shade of red. Eventually he would end up sitting next to her, engaging in our conversation.
It was on an evening like this one, that she felt it. His hand on her thigh. She couldn’t breathe. It sent shivers through her body. The butterflies were so hard in her stomach, she was sure they were about to fly out of her. Her cheeks a fiery red. She could feel the growing warmth from in between her legs, and she was sure he could feel it to. Her entire body ached for him. In that moment, she had never wanted him more. To touch him. To feel him. To taste him. She turned to look at him, his eyes caught hers, and in an instant, the hand was gone. She had scared him away, he must have seen the look in her eyes. A look that said ‘Please, just kiss me’.
The moment was never spoken about, although it was all she could think of. She would come home, and lay in bed whilst imagining what could have been that night. What may have happened if he felt the same way, how she would have felt if his hand had ventured up her leg to find the source of heat. If he himself had made her convulse in ecstasy as she so often would, imaging her hand to be his.
A few weeks passed, and the same behaviour continued on as ever. The flirtatious behaviour, followed by the lecture and the telling off. All the mixed signals.
One day she overheard him on the phone to his wife. “Yes dear” “I know dear” “I’ll be home for dinner dear”. She didn’t feel it was a happy conversation. He didn’t look happy. He didn’t have that same glimmer in his eyes as when he spoke to her. He mustn’t be happy with her, she would think. I could make him happier… But she was bought crashing back down to earth when she heard the dreaded “I love you too” not spoke to her, as she so wished, but spoke to the wife on the other end of the phone. She told herself she didn’t love him, but at that very moment, all she wanted was for him to say, ‘I’m talking to you, I love you too’. But of course, that was not to happen. She stirred her coffee, turned and gave him as brave a smile as she could, and went to her desk, a lonesome tear rolling down her face.
A few Friday’s later, and he came to sit with her. She was stuck with a spreadsheet, and he was a genius and offered to help. Rather than pull up a chair for himself, he instead told her to shuffle up so he could get in. The butterflies started. She moved over on the chair, so that there was room for him to sit. As he went to settle on the chair next to her, she could smell his smell. It was a smell so familiar to her, so comforting. It was a mix of washing powder, after shave, and just him. It was indescribable, and utterly intoxicating. She could feel her cheeks beginning to redden as she wondered what he would taste like… He sat next to her and showed her what she needed to do, although she was not paying attention. All she could think of was the fact that he was so close to her, she could feel the heat from his body. All that was between them was a thin layer of clothing. If it were to just magically disappear, then they would be naked, touching, who knows where that would lead. She wondered what kind of underwear he wore. And of course, she again wondered what was beneath the underwear. She wondered if his hair down there was as pristinely shaved as on his face, or if he let it grow long and curly, like the hairs on his chest that so often poked through the top button of his shirts. She wondered how his penis would look, when it was soft, when it was hard. She wondered what it would feel like, in her hand, in her mouth, in her- She hadn’t been paying attention. He had finished explaining, and she still had no idea. She looked at him, with a confused look on her face, and asked him to please explain again, adding that it had been a long week and she had phased out. He lifted his arm, wrapped it around her shoulders, and said merely “I think we could both use a drink” and with that, he got up, grabbed her hand, pulled her out of her chair, locked her computer and dragged her out of the office. He quickly got out his phone and sent an email to the company, “Bar, NOW!” was all it said. They made their way to the bar making idle chit chat. 
When they arrived at the bar, he ordered her a large glass of  sparkling wine, himself a beer, and they sat together. Him next to her, alone. It felt like hours, but in reality it must have only been a few minutes before the rest of their colleagues joined them. They talked, and drank, and laughed and it happened again. The hand on her thigh. She didn’t want to look at him, to scare him away again. So she sat completely still. She felt a squeeze, so reluctantly she turned to face him. “You ok?” he mouthed to her, releasing his grip on her leg, threatening to let go. She smiled her cheekiest smile and nodded, he squeezed her leg again, she smiled harder and honestly thought she might explode. It had been a hot summer, so all she had on was a smart shirt, and a miniskirt. His hand itself was on her skirt, but he moved his little finger and it touched her leg. It felt like he had given her an electric shock, she could feel an energy pulsing through her body. She longed for his whole hand to move under her skirt, to find the black lacy underwear she was wearing, that was now slightly damp due to the presence of his hand. She realised that she hadn’t taken a breath in what felt like minutes and she started to breathe again. She could feel him looking at her, so she turned. As she did so, the lights turned all the way down, and the music became louder, the bar was turning into a club. This was normally the bit where everybody went home, him included, he had to get home to his family she supposed. But to her surprise, he leant all the way in, put his lips to her ear and said “Give me your hand”. She could feel his breath, his lips touching her ear, she couldn’t help but close her eyes and imagine for a split second that he was kissing her. Her stomach dropped, and she could feel herself getting excited, her underwear becoming warmer, damper. She did as she was told, and gave him her hand. As he touched it, she could feel his sweaty palms, was that because he was nervous too she wondered?  He placed her hand on his leg, stroked her fingers, and then turned away and picked up his drink to take a sip. All the time, she was staring at him. Utterly confused, but at the same time wanting to take this as far as it can go. Wondering if maybe he will ask her to go into the toilets with him. If he will hitch up her skirt, whilst he undoes his flies. She wonders if he would be erect already, or if she would need to help him first. She wonders how it will feel when he lifts her up and pins her to the wall as he kisses her neck, as he lifts up her leg so that he is able to slide inside of her… 
“Did you want another drink sweetheart?” She is bought back to reality by her friend who is getting a round of drinks in. She tries to speak, but her voice doesn’t seem to want to surface, so she nods and smiles. “Are you ok? You look all flustered!!” Again, she smiles, clears her throat and assures her friend she is fine. He must have realised that she was giving them away, as at that moment he got up and left the table. Her hand left in mid air from where it had been resting on his muscled leg. It felt cold without his warmth underneath it.
She took a trip to the ladies to splash her face with cold water. She was feeling a little tipsy from the wine and did not want to make a fool of herself. She decided she would leave after she had finished her drink. As she walked out from the ladies door, she saw him leaving the gents, which were opposite. He walked up to her. He is going to kiss me! She thought, but of course, he wasn’t going to. “I think I’d better be making tracks soon” she said, looking into his deep blue eyes, struggling not to get lost in them. “I wouldn’t leave now if I were you!” He said, coyly. “Not unless you want to do all my expenses for me for the next month!” She knew he was joking, but she liked that he wanted her to stay, so she said she would for another one or two. “Good girl” he said, winking at her. She giggled like a schoolgirl. They went back to the table and he asked her to get a couple of bottles of bubbly, on the company card of course, we’ll call it a business meeting. He gave her his credit card. “What’s your PIN number?” She shouted over the music. “What?” “Your PIN, what is it? I need it to buy the drinks?” She shouted a little louder, moving closer to him. “I can’t hear you, come closer” he said as she felt his hand on her head, his fingers in her hair, pulling her face close to his. She could smell his smell, she could hear her heart thumping in her ears, her legs turning to jelly. “I-I need your PIN”. “I know what you need” he answered “I just wanted you to be close to me” She pulled away and looked him in the face, wanting to see his expression. Wanting to see if he was serious or if he was joking. His eyes told her that he really did just want her close, so she leant back in, put her lips to his ear, and softly, calmly, seductively said “PIN?” Making sure that he could feel her lips on his ear, as if she was about to nibble him. This time it was her who felt him shudder as if he had chills down his spine. The thought of this made her even more confident, so she kissed his neck, very quickly, so nobody could see, but very deliberately. She opened her lips up so that she could taste him. He tasted salty, and like after shave. Not like she had imagined. Better. She pulled away and he mouthed “1991” to her. She thanked him, took the card and walked to the bar. 
Her mind was racing. She has kissed him, and he had not stopped her. She wanted to kiss him again, on the lips. What did she do next, what was her next move? Nothing. He is married she reminded herself. He has children. She ordered four bottles of champagne, and went back to the table while she waited for someone to bring everything over. He came over, she gave him the receipts for the drinks, but kept the card, in case she needed another later! 
He opened a bottle and poured out glasses for a few people, leaving hers till last pouring every last drop into her glass so it almost overflowed. “Are you trying to get me drunk?!” She asked playfully. She didn’t need an answer. The cheeky grin on his face was all she needed to know that yes, he probably was.  She thanked him for the drink, and tried to pick it up, but realised that if she moved it, it would spill everywhere. She pulled her hair behind her ears, stood up, and bent over the table to drink straight from the top of the glass. She was well aware that from where he was stood, he could catch a glimpse of her breasts, as they spilled out of the top of her shirt. She got up and caught him staring, wide mouthed. He walked up beside her, stroked her hair back behind her ears, which made her whole body tingle, before whispering in her ear “Are you trying to turn me on..?!” “Not at all boss” she said teasingly. She put her drink down and made her way to the dance floor. She found some of her colleagues and began dancing with them. He came and started dancing next to her. Gradually they all left to get more drinks and the two of them were left alone together. He grabbed her hand and pulled her deeper into the sea of people, so that they could not be seen by anyone they knew.
He turned to face her and they began dancing. At first they danced separately, and she tried to move as seductively as she could. He moved in closer to her, and she began to feel his breath on her forehead. She looked up at his face, to find him looking down at her, she tiptoed slightly so that she was looking straight in his eyes. It was that moment. It was the sink or swim moment. It was the moment she had waited for. If he pulled away now, that was it, she would be heartbroken, she would leave her job and move away to start again. But if he moved in to kiss her. If she kissed him back. Where would that take them? What would that mean? She did not want to be the one to make the move. She didn’t want to put herself in a position of looking like a fool, so she stood there. Staring into his eyes, feeling his breath quicken. She looked down towards his lips, to see him biting his bottom lip, as if wondering what to do. It seemed like an age of them just staring at one another. Was he going to kiss her? Or would they stay like this, staring, until the dance floor begun to clear? She got her answer. She felt his hands slide up her side, and onto her waist. Her entire body began buzzing, every move he made, every slight touch seemed to send electrical waves through her body, all ending up in the bottom of her stomach, and reaching in between her legs. One of his hands moved towards her bottom and he pulled her into him. She saw him closing his eyes and felt herself being pulled inwards. And then it happened. His slightly rough lips met her lips. Soft, and slightly sticky from her lipgloss. She closed her eyes and fell into his kiss. Their lips did not part, it was just a kiss, on the lips. But it felt like so much more. She could feel her heart racing, she felt like she could be sick, her insides were somersaulting. She could feel him pulling back, so she placed her hands on his arms, and grabbed onto them, as if begging him to stay, not to let this moment end. This moment that she has been dreaming of since they met. He pulls slightly away and opens his eyes. She opens hers to see almost pain in his eyes. Confusion? It lasts briefly as he pulls her in again, this time he opens his mouth, as does she. Their tongues exploring each others mouths. He has one hand on her waist, and the other is in her hair. She moves her hands from his arms and puts one on his neck, and grabs his butt with the other, and pulls his groin into her, so that she can feel the hard bulge in his trousers pressing up against herself. This makes her groan ever so slightly, which he feels and his kiss becomes more frenzied. He grabs her hips and pulls her into him, as if they were making love. She moans again slightly, she likes the effect it is having on him. He lets slip a moan of his own, before slowing down and ending the kiss. 
They pull away and try to catch their breath.
 

 


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