A Difficult Confession

"A drink might be better," he suggested.

"I'm only in the mood for coffee."

When we got to my car, he asked where he should meet me. I told him he could follow me and we would get there together.

"What if I lose you?"

"Then I'll be having coffee by myself."

I opened my car door. Mick's eyes were on my legs and instinctively reached for the hem of my skirt so it wouldn't ride up as I entered. I felt something on my arm and looked down to see two of Mick's fingers.

"Don't," he said. I wasn't sure exactly what he meant nor why I let go of my skirt. I do know he saw plenty of leg, perhaps even panty. Looking back, that was the first indication of things to come.

I closed the car door and pulled out. The poor guy had to race across the parking lot to his car and try to catch me. I made sure he did. Women liked to be chased but we also make sure we are caught.

Mick didn't follow up on his parking lot success. Rather, he was very funny and incredibly charming over coffee. He took my jacket and held my chair. We talked for nearly an hour. It was obvious he'd left his cocky attitude at the office. I asked him why.

"Some women prefer charming," he said, smiling broadly. I guess I was pleased to know he hadn't given up his pursuit. We talked about goofy, nonsensical stuff.

"What's your real name?" I asked Mick.

"You're in HR and you don't know?"

"I guess I haven't memorized everyone's file yet."

"Michael."

"Parents big Stones fans, were they?" I asked forgetting how young he was. Mick looked bewildered.

"Rolling Stones? I can't get no...satisfaction..." I sang as best I could. "Any of this ringing a bell?"

"Oh," Mick answered and smiled as he caught on, "Dad was. Not Jagger though. Mantle." Then he said something deliberately dopey about my name.

"What about you, anybody ever call you Helen?" He was laughing about the ridiculousness of his question.

"Sometimes," I teased. "They must think I'm English." Mick again missed my joke by a mile.

"The British," I explained to his confused countenance, "you know...silent aitch...[H]ello [H]elen...you know."

Mick guffawed and complimented me on my quick wit.

"Why don't you sing your song again?" he asked causing bewilderment on my part.

"You know, the one where you can't get any satisfaction. I think I can help with that," Mick said in earnest.

"It was a clue, not a statement of fact."

"It sounded like it came straight from the heart," Mick said causing me to laugh in an attempt to conceal my blushing. He was pretty quick witted himself.

"Is all you guys think about that!?" I shot back.

The truth is it was my mind that drifted as we talked. I began imagining fellating Mick. It upset me that I couldn't control my thoughts around this kid. Worse than that, I quickly found myself masturbating and couldn't stop. Fortunately, I managed to keep my climax small so Mick wouldn't notice.

At coffee, I got that dating again feeling. I liked it but didn't feel right about it. I was going to have to bring Dan up to speed about Mick soon. It was the idea of doing something behind my husband's back that made me feel uncomfortable.

The sexual thoughts I'd had about Mick weighed on me. That night I told Dan everything including my fantasy and masturbation in the coffee shop. I made sure Dan was in a receptive mood first by initiating sex. Selfishly, I was also still horny from my meager coffee house climax and was wetly kissing Dan's penis as I described my budding relationship with Mick.

As I suspected, Dan finds Mick's interest in me exciting. I was reluctant to have to tell him because from then on all Dan would do is question and encourage me. The next day, for example, instead of asking how my day was, I got "How did things go with Mick today?"

"We barely saw each other," I told him truthfully.

Now, I not only had Mick's cockiness but Dan's encouragement. My own body was also betraying me. I was being triple-teamed!

As things stood, I liked Mick but was not interested in a serious relationship with him. I expected him to have interests in other women so I wasn't offended when he spoke about them in our conversations. Even if I saw him showing affection with another female at the office, I wasn't the least bit jealous.

What would have worried me and scared me off would be if I felt he was devoting all of his attention to me. I would look at that as a possible threat to my relationship with my husband. There is a big difference between sexual interest and love interest. I'll admit to having a sexual interest in Mick but no love interest. The slightest love interest either way would cause me to run and run fast.

After coffee, the teasing from the other women at the office began to heat up. I don't know if Mick had said something. I certainly hoped he knew better. The more likely cause was that given the interest I'd shown by inviting him to coffee, Mick had stepped up his efforts at my conquest. I think half of the office thought I was already sleeping with him and the other half weren't sure.

This was really the first time I had been on gossip parade. At first, I denied anything but that only stirred things more. Mostly, I just tried to ignore it. When I couldn't ignore it, I asked if they are jealous. That left them speechless.

While Mick remained his flirty self, I stopped being flirty back. I was worried about all the talk and wanted it to die down. I couldn't stop myself entirely though and looked for ways to see Mick socially outside the office.

I love going to the library, especially when Dan is busy on the weekends. A library to me is a place of recreation. I love books and can spend hours in the stacks. Debbie is the head librarian and a long time confidant from my college days.

I had been telling Debbie about Mick and she was dying to meet this "cocky kid" that had become such a focal point of our conversations. When Mick asked what I was doing for the weekend, I let it slip that I would be at the library on Saturday. He said he might drop by as well. I really thought he would make an appearance and Debbie was revved up about it but he was a no show. My guess is that the lure of college football was more appealing. His loss.

I had assumed that since Mick knew I was going to be at the library that he would automatically stop and flirt with me. In reality, I had thrown out a huge hint in the hope that he would bite and it went right over his head. I doubt he even realized he was supposed to be there. All too often women send out obvious signals to which men are oblivious.

Incredibly, as Debbie and I chatted and waited in vain, I felt an even stronger, stranger attraction to Mick. Debbie knew most of my past and marveled at my ability to attract men. It even gave me a sense of pride that I impressed her. Debbie didn't say anything but I'm sure it registered that this kid had me hooked and he'd stood me up. I felt humiliated.

I didn't see much of Mick early in the next week. On Wednesday, we were in the office lounge at the same time and talked briefly. Ann and I were discussing music we liked and how music had changed. Mick interjected himself into the conversation. For some reason he seemed to like all of the music I did but knew little about it. Ann left with the comment, "I'll leave you two lovers alone."

Mick told me he had a great sound system and invited me to stop by his apartment to listen to it. Like helping him with his curtains, this was yet another obvious ploy to get me to his apartment. I was still stinging from his absence on Saturday and I wanted to get back at him by turning him down. Instead of flatly rejecting the idea, though, I led him on by saying I would think about it.

"Maybe tomorrow," I said as I left him.

That "maybe tomorrow" really got his attention because the next day he made every effort to be where ever I was. He told me that he spent the entire evening straightening up his place for my visit. He said that he had even bought different kinds of wine because he wasn't sure what kind I liked. I told him that was pretty excessive for a "maybe."

"Look," I explained to him, "If I were seen going into your apartment, or if word got out that I was there, it would only fuel the rumors about something going on between us."

"So?" he responded.

"Married women don't go alone to single men's apartments," I told him, ending the conversation abruptly because just the fact that I was discussing going to his apartment was turning me on.

Mick waited for me after work and walked with me to my car. He knew that was a big no-no. I told him before it was a bad idea because of the rumors and I didn't want him doing that.

"Why is it always me who gets blamed for the fucking rumors?" Mick asked, perturbed.

"Mick," I warned him, "I don't like that kind of language. It has no place in a business environment. Using it will only hurt your performance evaluation."

"Christ," Mick groaned, "can we stick to the fucking topic?"

"Which topic?" I asked him, trying to defuse the tension. "The rumors or your apartment?" I didn't, however, bring up the subject of his use of obscene language again. I could see he was frustrated and that only made it worse.

"Both," Mick answered with an edge in his voice. "Sure, I flirt sometimes because I like you, but your friends get a pass. Ann called us lovers and you did nothing to correct her."

I was dumbfounded. Mick was right; I had been blaming everything on him.

"And what about you?" he asked as I remained silent.

"ME?!" I asked incredulously. "What did I do?"

"Look at yourself," Mick said. "Every time we have a counseling session, or are scheduled to be in a meeting together, you wear clothes like that."

"Like what?" I asked completely perplexed.

"Those aren't normal work clothes. Look how nice you look. You always wear a skirt. Any other day you wear slacks. My god Ellen, that dress shows half your thigh when you're standing! Do you know how much leg you show when you're sitting down? Do you think people haven't noticed? Do you think they don't talk? I've had guys ask me when my next conference was just so they could wander past your office and look at your legs.

"That's not true!" I wailed more loudly than intended, as if volume could overcome truth.

"It is true!" Mick said, unaffected by my outburst. "You cause a lot of hard-ons in a day's time lady."

Oh my god! Mick was right. Not about the erections, although it was cute that he'd said it (not just erections either, but a LOT of erections).What about you Mick?I wanted to ask.Do I give you a hard-on too? Of course I asked no such thing.

No, Mick was right about my clothes. We have a casual dress code at work and many of the younger employees wear jeans. I prefer more dressy slacks, a conservative blouse or sweater and three-inch heels. Rarely did I wear skirts unless an important client was visiting or a new group of recruits was there for orientation.

With Mick noticing me, however, I'd begun wearing some of the clothes I reserve for when Dan and I go out. Dan always liked my skirts short and I accommodated him. His trophy wife he called me, even at forty-four.

"I've got to go, Mick," I told him. "I can't stand out here and talk to you for this long. Suspicions will only grow."

"Then let's go to my place," Mick countered. "No one can see us talking there." I did want to go but something told me that the timing was wrong.

"Some other time," I told him. He was disappointed and I felt bad because I really did deserve some of the blame for the gossip. On the spur of the moment, did something completely wrong. A group of the female managers meet at a bar one Friday a month to unwind and let our hair down a little. As luck would have it was set for the next day and I invited him.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I wanted to kick myself. I'd been trying to keep the rumors down and now had invited him to join us? That would really get the rumor mill churning.

Normally the group goes to a wine bar called The Discussion Club. I caught Mick early the next morning and told him I would meet him at BJs, a sports bar, instead. Rather than expressing my concerns about the rumors, something that didn't bother him at all, I told him it would be more private. He really liked that.

After calling Mick on his cell to tell him I would be an hour late, I met the girls at The Discussion Club. What was supposed to be going on between Mick and me was the talk of our little get together. Everyone wanted the scoop on what was really happening. It was all good-natured, of course, but according to them, I was ready to leave Dan and run off with Mick. They all also agreed that they couldn't blame me because Mick was so "dreamy."

"Dreamy?" I told them. "You sound like my mother!"

If Mick could have heard the things they said about him his already inflated ego would have swelled his head three hat sizes. More than one of those married ladies said that Mick could "crawl between the sheets" with them anytime. The general consensus was that I was lucky to be the object of his attention. Of course it was mostly bluster on their parts. None of them were faced with the very real possibility of having sex with him like I was.

What amazed me the most was that they all assumed that I had already been to bed with him. None of them would believe there was nothing sexual going on. They thought I was covering it up.

"Come on," they said almost in unison, "you can tell us."

I only wanted to have one glass of wine but ended up drinking two before I could get out of there. There was one thing they were all right about, though. They were certain I was leaving early to go see Mick. They were correct but I wouldn't admit it.

I drove to BJs and was disappointed when I saw Mick at the bar with Rocky. Only a few years older than Mick, Rocky is the office letch. I was pissed. The reason for meeting Mick separately was so others from work wouldn't see us together. I thought about walking out but hesitated long enough to be noticed. The first words out of Mick's mouth were to Rocky.

"I told you she would be here."

It was one of those times his cockiness definitely rubbed me the wrong way. It was said in such an arrogant sort of way, like all he needed to do was snap his fingers and I would come running. That didn't sit well with me but I tried to ignore it. The three of us went to a booth and Mick sat on the side with me while Rocky sat across from us. That arrangement definitely made me nervous.

"I can't believe the prettiest woman at the office would come off of her cloud to have a drink with us," Rocky said when we were seated. I didn't like that statement either. I'm sure he meant it as a compliment but I didn't take it that way. I was suddenly realizing how big this mistake was.

I had another glass of wine and sat quietly. The conversation was mostly about sports. Rocky had latched onto Mick not unlike Mick had latched onto me. They had a lot of things in common and Rocky seemed to look up to and admire Mick. Certainly Mick was the alpha male of that duo.

During the conversation, Mick dropped his hand onto my thigh where Rocky couldn't see. Despite the conversation we'd had just the day before about me fanning the flames of gossip by wearing short skirts for Mick's benefit, I had worn a skirt again because I knew I'd be having a drink with Mick after work. I had tried to talk myself into wearing slacks but it was almost as if someone else had dressed me.

I flinched slightly when I felt Mick's hand on my leg and Mick turned to me and asked if I minded. I did but, like the time in the parking lot when I let him see up my skirt, I shook my head and let him do what he wanted. That made him smile. I'm sure Rocky was confused by our little exchange but he said nothing.

I don't understand why but something about letting Mick fondle me while we engaged in chitchat with an unsuspecting associate excited the hell out of me. Mick started rubbing the inside of my thigh. I let him feel as high as the bare flesh above my stocking but squeezed his hand tight before he reached my panties. He made me really hot and I didn't want him to know how wet I was. I wondered how far I'd have let him go if we'd been sitting the booth alone.

I was on my second wine, one over my self-imposed limit, when Mick asked a question that caught me completely off guard.

"Are you ready to go to my apartment now?" He asked it openly and in front of Rocky. I gave him a bewildered look because I couldn't believe he made that statement with Rocky right there. He may as well have said "Let's go, I'm ready to fuck you now." I'm sure that was the way it sounded to Rocky.

I tried to defuse things by asking, "Are all three of us going?"

"Depends on how kinky you want to get," Mick said.

I tried passing it off as a joke. "You two couldn't handle me," I said. I don't think they were expecting that from me and there was a brief silence.

"It's time I got home to my husband," I said and I got up to leave. "See you both at work."

I headed out. I was near the door when Mick raced up to me and handed me a piece of paper. "In case you change your mind," he said. As he walked back he said, "Give me a half an hour." Of course the paper had his address on it. I put it in my purse.

I drove back to The Discussion Club because I knew my friends would still be there. I really got ribbed about sneaking off for a "quickie" with Mick. Beth had everyone holding in her sides when she asked, "Is that dried milk on your chin?" Kathy said, "That ain't milk honey."

I knew it was all in fun but was embarrassed anyway because I had, in fact, gone to meet Mick. "My boyfriend" and I remained the main topic but for some reason I didn't mind. I guess it was the wine. I was actually feeling a little tipsy but not drunk. It was more in the happy stage that precedes being drunk.

As I got into my car to drive home, I thought about the paper in my purse. It might be interesting to go by Mick's place just to see what it was like. Soon, my GPS had me driving through an upscale neighborhood. I thought the address had to be wrong because these were pretty wealthy homes and I was sure there wouldn't be any apartments there.

I followed the directions to Mick's street and found a newly built condominium complex. If Mick lived there, he lived in a condo and not an apartment. Condos in this area surely would also be completely out of the salary range we paid Mick as an intern, even to rent. I was certain he had lied but couldn't figure out why he would. As I pulled up to the address, I didn't see his car.

Out of curiosity, I stopped and knocked on the door expecting a complete stranger to open it. To my surprise, Mick, wearing only his boxer shorts, opened the door and invited me in. I was so stunned I walked in despite his lack of attire. His "apartment" was big, beautiful, and nicely furnished. I was expecting a small bachelor pad with dirty socks on the floor. This place still had that new house smell.

Instead of saying that he was glad to see me he said, "I knew you'd come". When I asked how he knew, he said because I put the paper in my purse instead of throwing it away. We talked for a few minutes with me insisting the whole time that I had to go. Mick offered a quick tour and I accepted. I was impressed. Then he insisted that I have a drink with him. I told him that I was already over my limit. I was very nervous about being there.

Mick opened a bottle of white wine over my objections and handed me a glass. It was crystal. He was still standing there with nothing on but his boxer shorts but he seemed perfectly comfortable. I suggested that he at least put on pants.

"Why?" he asked.