tagLoving WivesCredit Crunch Sacrifice

Credit Crunch Sacrifice


Reflecting on what I have done, I need to tell someone, if only to help ease the guilt I feel.

I work in the offices of a large banking organisation, as did my husband until recently. We married 5 and a half years ago and we have a lovely 4-year-old daughter. We were planning on having a second child but put that on hold when job uncertainty began to kick in well over a year ago.

I expected my job to be at risk as I work 3 days a week so that I can spend some time with our daughter as well as still bring in some much needed money. We also hadn't kept our plans of adding to our family a secret and felt that management might use the possibility of imminent maternity leave to count against me.

In the end it was my husband James that was put on garden leave before finding a similar but lower paid job elsewhere. What made it worse was that he found out on my birthday, I had lots of cards saying "happy 30th birthday Karen" and he got a redundancy letter. The thought of being out of work at 33 took it's toll and I think even now he feels vulnerable as well as disappointed at having to take a pay cut.

For my part I became determined to make sure I wouldn't be on the next wave of redundancies by doing my best at work, and I also smartened my appearance to look more business like, wearing skirt suits and taking more of an interest in what's going on. I quite like my new hairstyle too, which is kind of a short bob, off the collar at the back and slightly longer at the side of my face. I wouldn't describe myself as glamorous but I'm not overweight and have a good figure, in fact I'd describe myself as subtly shapely, at 5'3" with light brown hair and hazel green eyes. Despite having a child my 36d boobs are still a good shape too.

I felt lucky that I was one of the few that kept a job in the department I worked in, as it merged with the new business and about half the people lost their jobs. The new boss seemed nicer than the old one though despite seeming more focused on work, work, work and the new team seemed to get along ok despite being split over a number of locations.

Our boss seemed to share his time between two main sites and as my desk was near his I felt that I had to make a good impression especially as he would not see me on 1 of the 2 or 3 days he chose to spend there. He seemed to take an interest on what I did on my days off and this helped me believe I wasn't at a disadvantage to those who worked full time.

As time went on he would sometimes ask my opinion on things and I wondered if he rated me more than my grade reflected. I tended to do most of my work in the office whereas the full timers sometimes got out to meet clients. On one occasion, Chris asked if I would accompany him to a client visit and I thought I couldn't really refuse. Again I think he was impressed with how I conducted myself and I'm sure I was professionally dressed.

My husband sometimes teased that I had kept my job because of my looks, but I would say I was only a normal girl, not a model-like one. I had noticed the occasional glance from men in meetings, both in our company and external, that I think some men cant help themselves doing, but I was pretty sure Chris, who was 43 and a husband and dad, hadn't looked at me in an unprofessional way.

Apart from one occasion when I partnered up with someone else, I was finding that my out of office jaunts were with Chris, who also accompanied others so it wasn't all me. He began to confide in me and we sometimes discussed colleagues, with me mainly trying to say nice things about the vast majority of them and Chris almost expertly identifying their good points as well as not so good points.

As we were all on a similar grade, Chris didn't have a second in command, but I found that I was getting given any local tasks that he wanted doing when he wasn't around. The others seemed to accept that as recognition of them being too busy and I was only part-time, yet I became aware that I was doing a similar amount of work as well as these extra tasks.

On one client trip we passed a childhood haunt of Chris's and he asked if I minded stopping. We parked up and walked through a massive park, with him telling me about his boyhood adventures when everything around us seemed a lot bigger. We sat on a bench and surveyed the scenery and I caught Chris flashing a glance at my knees. I had my favourite suit on, a dark navy jacket and skirt with a very faint pinstripe. The skirt was almost knee length although obviously hiked up a little when seated. The modest slit at the back of the skirt enabled it to be more comfortable when walking and sitting. I felt very smart and even thought I might be a little sexy looking.

Chris offered to get an ice cream from a mobile vendor nearby and I stayed at the seat. I don't know why I did it, but I placed my right hand against the side of my thigh and noticed my first 2 fingers could touch my stocking. I then crossed my leg and the movement of the skirt allowed 4 fingers to now make contact with my stocking. Allowing my knee to raise slightly more I could now feel the patterned stocking top. For some silly girlish childish reason I decided to sit like that until Chris came back. With my hands on my lap as Chris approached I smiled and took my ice cream. Chris sat next to me, but not as close as before and I soon found out why as I caught him taking a look at what must have been my stocking top and a larger proportion of stocking covered leg than he would have seen before. After a while, my senses came back to me and I uncrossed my legs although the skirt remained a little higher than I would have preferred.

Chris moved closer and began talking about ratings of people in the team. It was as though he wanted me to help force rank people, and I became a bit suspicious of this and wondered if more job losses were planned. Or was it simply to do with pay rises perhaps?

He focused on one person, and it was someone I couldn't really defend; yet I felt sorry for the person concerned and almost guilty that I wasn't defending him against unfavourable comments.

I tried to get an idea of where I stood in Chris's rankings of his team but he only smiled when I hinted that I'd like to know.

We got back to the car after Chris had laughed at me for mistakenly starting to walk to another car park, not realising there was more than one dotted around the outskirts of the park. That explained why our car was the only one there yet there were a few people in the park and surely all weren't local.

As we sat in the car Chris placed his left arm around my shoulders and said "in answer to your earlier question you're probably the best of all of them". I couldn't quite believe I was regarded as actually the best and laughed. He then went on to explain why he thought I was the best – helpful, good at my job, get things done, good with clients, professional looking, adaptable, hard working. I felt glad that my efforts hadn't gone unnoticed and that I'd got through as much work in 3 days as some people get through in 5 and I began to feel very pleased with myself, forgetting the arm that rested around me.

"In fact there might be some new roles created within the team and I think you should watch out for them as I think you deserve one," Chris confided in me.

"B-but wouldn't it go against me that I only work part-time," I asked, still feeling a little flattered.

"No, because I know I could put a case for you sufficiently leading the team in the three days that you're here, if you worked five days a week you'd probably be inline for a higher job than the ones coming up anyway in my opinion," Chris replied.

I knew it wasn't a certainty, yet I smiled as though I'd won a good prize.

Chris smiled back and added "I personally think you and I get on well as good team leaders so we need another person to join us for the other main location as the new management team in my opinion."

I could hardly believe what I was hearing, a promotion would greatly help my home environment and give me more confidence that I wouldn't be thrown out when the expected next round of job cuts came up. It would also help address our current drop in home income.

At that point Chris smiled and kissed me. I was shocked at this but as we sat looking at each other he did it again. I didn't know what to do, or say, it was as though I was frozen with only my mind still in some kind of working order. Chris kissed me again and I realised I was kissing him back. Trying to buy time to think what to do as we kissed.

Chris's hand rested on my left knee, the skirt already at least a hands-width higher than my knee. I gasped as he kissed me again and pushed his hand up my leg, moving the skirt higher as he did.

"Chris....." was all I could say, wanting to say more, but feeling like my mind wasn't connecting to my mouth. Trying to search for a phrase to indicate we shouldn't be doing this, and that I didn't want to do this. Yet, failing to find the words quickly enough Chris kissed me again. This time feeling my right leg, and I felt my skirt moving up on that side too.

"Chris.. " I started to say again, and again frozen in my tracks as he ignored me, as though he didn't connect his ears to my voice, and he unbuttoned the single button that was holding my jacket closed.

I had to say something; I knew now it didn't even matter if I said something that didn't make sense, I had to stop this before it went any further.

"Chris, we," I started to say, but was stopped as he simultaneously kissed me again, and closed his right hand around my left breast.

As I gasped, he slid his tongue into my mouth, and although I desperately tried to avoid contact I found I was hitting against his tongue more than if I'd perhaps kept mine still.

"I'm glad we like each other, I'd feel a right idiot if you thought I was a dirty creep of a boss now."

I didn't think he was an idiot or a creep, I wanted to bleat out that we couldn't do this though, I wanted to find a way of stopping this so all the hard work I'd done to get on the verge of a promotion wasn't going to be thrown away by me pissing off my boss.

"All the years I played in this park I never though I'd end up kissing a gorgeous girl here," he said.

The things he kept saying kept throwing me off track, stopping my confused thoughts working out what to say. I even laughed at this last comment and he quickly added, "there's no way you wont be able to handle a bigger job, especially now that we know we can trust and confide in each other."

Again he threw my train of thought off track. Kissing me before I could hope to reply. His left arm was still around me, but his right hand no longer on my legs or breast. He seemed to be reaching beyond me, and I soon found out why as the seat began to lower.

"Nnnnnnnggg," I tried to say no as our lips became locked together again. He must have known that my lips weren't willingly kissing his yet the seat continued lowering.

As last, he stopped for breath. "Chris, we cant do this, anyone could come by," I said, trying to blame the cause of us stopping due to passers by rather than me.

With the seat almost flat his hand slid back under my already now high skirt. "No one will come through this part of the car park if they're not in a car," he said knowingly.

I'd played a hand and immediately lost, my attempts to think of another line wiped away by another kiss and his hand on the bare parts of my upper legs.

"Nnnnnnn, " I squealed as he stroked my bareness. I tried to fight off the feelings I was starting to have, not wanting to know that my body was tingling.

"Oooooh, no, ohhh, ohh," as his fingers began stroking my panties. My gasps were a mixture of fear at where this was heading, and yes, of arousal at what was happening to my body.

Sex with my husband was nowadays "acceptable". The occasional spontaneity from previous years had waned into predictability. I wanted to fight against this attention that my boss was inflicting upon me, but in a way that didn't hinder our relationship and my job, yet realised I was struggling to do so.

Should I just go for it and shout "get the fuck off me". I almost burst into tears as I saw all I'd worked for disappear as I prepared myself to shout just that. Thinking of our continued struggle at home as my husband came to terms with earning a lower salary, thinking how much a rise for me would help. But I had to object to Chris's misplaced perception of our relationship.

"G.... ohhhhhh," was all I managed to get out of my mouth as one of his fingers slid under my panties and into my vagina.

"Oh, yes," he uttered, mistakenly misinterpreting my loudness as enjoyment rather than preparation to tell him where to go.

He kissed me as he probed me, causing me to gasp and writhe. Causing me to recall the words 'spontaneity' and 'predictability' and wonder which one I felt allegiance to.

The more I wanted to get this to stop the more I seemed to moan at the effect his fingers were having on me.

Our breathing was equally erratic, and I tried to pull myself together as he withdrew his finger, relieved that he'd stopped just as I knew I was dangerously close to coming.

The feeling was like I'd just fought off one assailant and another stepped from the shadows, as he began to lean across me. I realised he was fumbling the front of his trousers.

"Chris, we cant, I'm a married mum," I pleaded in an apologetic tone. "And I'm a married dad but no ones going to know darling, I've never worked with anyone that I admire and value as much as you," Chris replied.

I was flattered that I was liked and highly valued, but still felt that wasn't a reason for sex.

"Have I misread things and your always pleasant and helpful to all your bosses?" Chris went on.

I knew that I did like Chris more than my previous bosses, but I'd never thought that would be a reason to have sex with him.

"Come on Karen, don't make me feel like a complete idiot by saying you don't really like me after all," he added.

I didn't want him to think I didn't "like" him, and at that point I didn't know what I was thinking, everything seemed to be running around in my head at 100mph.

As though in an effort to jolt my thoughts to the latest situation, his right hand slid up my leg and gripped my knickers, causing me to gasp aloud, and then again as he tugged at them.

I thought I could scream, or cry, or shout at him, but I also realised I was actually considering complying. Then in my head I was churning over all the reasons why I shouldn't comply, my husband, my daughter, and my integrity. But then a phase of countering thoughts were entering my head, like my job, my desire to be liked and valued, and yes, the arousal I was feeling.

"Lift your bottom darling," Chris calmly ordered, adding, "come on, no ones ever going to know," as he detected my hesitancy.

It was as though the words "no ones ever going to know" made it ok, and in my state of confusion – and I'd like to suggest my state of vulnerability – I raised my bottom slightly. With the left side of my knickers almost to my knee his hand switched to the right side and pulled without a word, just looking at me. I instinctively raised my bottom slightly, to free the obstruction that Chris had encountered, and my knickers were now at my knees.

"Lift your leg," Chris quietly ordered, and accompanied with, "Oh Chris, I don't believe I'm doing this," he pulled them off my left leg.

As he moved across me I felt them slowly slide down my right shin. I felt tearful as my legs began to separate and Chris got on top of me. We were both breathing heavily, and I worried that this was giving Chris a wrong message, his breathing was because he wanted to have sex, mine wasn't, yet the sounds were the same.

I realised his right hand was between us a millisecond before I felt his penis touch my vaginal lips, and then gasped loudly as it entered me, then again as it moved further, then again as he fully penetrated me, "ooh ooooh, oooooh". Each increase in volume similar to someone having a twisted ankle slowly straightened.

"Oh that's good," Chris breathed. My body was tightening and relaxing uncontrollably, as I struggled to come to terms with a man other than my husband inside me. At one point I unintentionally flexed my vaginal muscles causing a tightening on his penis, bringing a moan of approval from him and a feeling of shame on myself.

I couldn't establish if it felt so different because of the way we were laid, or the angle he was entering me, or his extra weight, or the slightly larger proportions of his genitalia, or maybe the position of my legs, with my left knee brushing against the passenger door and my right leg near the gear stick. But whatever it was, the more I tried to contain my reactions, the louder they became.

I laid under him, defenceless as he unbuttoned my blouse and slid his hand onto my left bra cup, squeezing for a few seconds before sliding inside my cup altogether, squeezing me and flicking my erect nipple from side to side. Then balancing himself on his right side to repeat the process with his left hand until both my breasts were exposed, shuddering as he thrust harder into me. I couldn't help moaning a stream of frequent "ohh ohhh" as he continued to gradually increase his movements into me. His hands seemingly trying to feel every part of my body.

I tried to tell myself to stop resisting as it was making my moans louder as a result, but when I did stop thinking of resisting I found myself ashamedly enjoying what was happening to me.

I felt tearful again as I realised I was moving in unison with him when he gasped "oh yes that's good, good girl Karen."

Biting my lip and closing my eyes tightly, I felt ashamed that I'd allowed my body to enjoy what was happening, to willingly participate, and not only that but to have that recognised by being called a good girl. Did he think I was a girl because I was 13 years younger than him?

My body began to tingle and I knew I was approaching an orgasm, the more I writhed the more he pushed into me, my moans of "oh, oh, oh," just controlled enough to fall short of calling 'oh yes, oh yes' like I occasionally did with my husband. The harder and faster he pushed into me heightened my arousal, my moaning and my gradual loss of control.

I let out a loud moan and declared that I was coming, as my body involuntarily shook. "Me too," he gasped before groaning and gradually slowing down as I felt an extra warmth inside me.

We lay where we were for a short while, recovering our breathing pattern before he slowly moved off me. It was as though the shame of seeing someone move away from between my parted legs was more than what had just happened there. I saw his softened penis, as he swiftly pulled his clothing up, then he lifted my knickers up my right leg to my knee before leaning across me to rectify the seat position. I quickly sorted my breasts bra and blouse before I came to window level and then completed the replacement of my knickers and smoothed my skirt out.

Red faced and somewhat embarrassed, I couldn't think of what to say.

Chris broke the ice by saying, "well, I think we've declared we certainly like each other, a bit more than colleagues generally do," and then smiled at me.

I couldn't avoid smiling back, trying to put thoughts of my husband out of my mind still.

"I don't know if you feel the same but I thought that was absolutely amazing," Chris asked.

Again I didn't know what to say, it was a surprise, it was risky, and yes it was enjoyable in the end, but not something I'd want to recognise as something that compared favourably with my current lifestyle.

"I, err, don't know what to say," I honestly stuttered.

"No need to say anything, our secret, good friends and colleagues, no one else will ever know," he replied. "I think there's no doubt we can trust each other now," he added.

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byromantichica© 24 comments/ 103846 views/ 27 favorites

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