Hotwife Co-Worker Ch. 01

Chapter 1: Golden Signpost

Something I've learned over the years is that each day presents us with a variety of crossroads; forks in the road that can change the course of our lives. There are usually signposts, but often we don't notice them, or we ignore them. Perhaps that's because we are not paying attention, or that we simply don't recognize them for what they are. It could also be that we are afraid to take a path that looks a little risky. Not taking these new paths is a mistake because venturing along them can introduce us new experiences or new people; or perhaps let us see people we thought we knew but suddenly seem like new people. Thus was the case for me about six months ago when I found myself having lunch in the company cafeteria with a lady I've known for nearly 25 years. I either had simply passed by the obvious signpost or at least it hadn't registered because my brain was focused elsewhere. Then again, perhaps it had been in plain sight, but I simply didn't have my brain synchronized with my eyes.

But let's step back a bit and come up to speed. I am employed at a large company where I began working right after graduating from engineering school. In fact, I showed up for work the day after graduation. I had debts to pay and couldn't afford that "backpacking through Europe" thing. Like most young engineers at the company, I began my career at a work station consisting primarily of a computer loaded with all sorts of software used to create designs for new hardware and equipment. Back in my dad's day, such design work would have required a stack of pen and ink drawings as well as a lot of analysis and evaluation by multiple teams of engineers loading punch cards into stand-alone mainframe computers. In the modern world, computer software in desk-top systems could produce three dimensional designs in a fraction of the time that had been the norm in my dad's day. Integrated computers also conducted all necessary mathematical and structural analysis in seconds. The result is that design data could be loaded directly into automatic machines to churn out prototypes in a matter of days or weeks rather than months. OK, enough with the nerd history. The bottom line is that I was a worker bee at the bottom of the heap. However over the next two decades, I oozed into management and became a guy in charge of a whole product line; supervising dozens of design, development, and test people doing what I used to do.

Not long after I started at the company, two other young people who are relevant to this story also began their careers. One named Phil was more of a test technician than a design engineer. He eventually grew to be a supervisor in charge of a team of test engineers supporting programs throughout the company. Phil and I became friends early in our careers while working on many of the same projects. He and his staff still support many of my development programs. I consider Phil to be a friend. He and his wife Tonya sometimes socialize with me and my wife Jean as a result of our working relationship as well as the fact that my son Ronnie and his Jacob have been friends from elementary school through high school. They spent their high school years playing lacrosse on the same team, but now they were off to separate rival state universities where they get to face off against each other every spring.

For years Phil and Tonya as well as Jean and I reserved a table together at the company Christmas party and the summer picnic. We've often been to each other's homes for holidays and many other events from family milestones to casual cook outs to Super Bowl parties. Phil and I almost always play golf in the same foursome several times a year at charity outings sponsored by the company. We also sometimes play an informal weekend round together with some friends of mine or his. We are very compatible and have always gotten along well.

So now that you know a little about Phil, let's talk about his wife. At about the same time Phil started at his test tech position, Tonya came on board as a cost administrator in the product area where both Phil and I worked. Tonya was always a looker and full of sassy personality. A lot of the guys went on about how sexy she was. A few of them dated her. We all wanted to hear stories about how she might be a truly hot fuck or that she gave unbelievable blowjobs. We needed something to satisfy our horny fantasies about her. However the guys she dated never said much. We couldn't tell if their reticence was because they were being gentlemen, or perhaps they were just too embarrassed to admit that they hadn't scored with her.

It was a surprise to all of us was when she started dating Phil exclusively, and that in a year or so, they got married. They didn't seem to fit because Phil appeared to be somewhat of a quiet introverted type while Tonya could be the life of the party. Actually, Phil and I were a lot alike in that we are more of the classic "engineer type". Back then, we certainly weren't ever accused of being "two wild and crazy guys." Nevertheless, even in the early years, Tonya and I were always flirting harmlessly by doing things like going down the hall arm in arm or "mock dancing together" if we happened to bump into each other in the break room. This casual flirting went on for years even long after she married Phil and I married Jean. I suppose in today's atmosphere against sexual harassment and the environment of hands-off in the work place, our behavior could have gotten us into trouble. However, in reality, most people could see that it was harmless play between friends.

Eventually, Tonya also moved up the ladder and became lead auditor in charge of a whole team of cost administrators responsible for evaluating and maintaining records of expenditures on projects as well as the inventory of products, supplies, and customer-furnished materials. She had moved to another building in our four-building complex, but our paths still crossed occasionally. When we ran into each other, we found ourselves hugging in the hallway and "dancing together" like in the old days. The "new workplace attitude" wasn't going to change more than two decades of friendship. I think Tonya dared anybody to make a derogatory comment about her behavior. If they did, she could shut them down with her razor wit.

OK, back to the present. I generally don't eat in the company cafeteria because I don't really like long lines and noise. I usually just bring lunch or go to one of the many fast food places in the area. However, on this particular day, I had brought no lunch and rainy weather made me decide that lines and noise were better than getting soaked. Fortunately, it was a little later than the usual lunch crunch and there were no lines. The hustle bustle was absent, and the cafeteria was relatively empty and quiet. Walking from the cashier, I spied Tonya sitting at a table in the corner of the back room of the cafeteria. She was eating alone and browsing a book. I walked back and set my tray on the table,

"Hey sexy lady," I said. "Are you up to entertaining a lonely sailor in town?"

She looked up, and when she saw me, her face lit up.

"Matthew!" she exclaimed standing. She threw her arms around my neck and gave me a peck on the cheek. We did our little dance for a few seconds before sitting down. I'm sure anybody seeing our little ritual could have reported it as "inappropriate behavior in the workplace", but neither of us cared. It was relatively empty and quiet in the back so we could easily chat as we ate. That's when it happened, the sort of thing that I mentioned earlier about signposts and crossroads that you never anticipated. I looked down as she casually crossed her feet and stretched her legs out to the side of the table. Tonya is relatively tall at about 5 feet 10 inches, yet she always wears high heels which makes her really stand out in a crowd. She is a very stunning willowy lady. She could have been a model. She always dresses stylishly but appropriately for the office. Even in her "latish 40's", she still turns a lot of heads.

I glanced down at what people often referred to as her "eight foot long legs". That's when it suddenly caught my attention like a flashing light. Why had I never noticed it before? How long had it been there? My mind ran through several alternatives as it processed what I saw.

"Hey, dirty old man," Tonya said. "Are you staring at my legs? You want a better view?"

She stretched out her shapely legs even further to the side of her chair. In doing so, her skirt hiked up to about mid-thigh. God how I'd love to see and touch and taste what was between those firm thighs. Did all men have such fantasies and want to fuck pretty much all the women around them? Did all men lust after the women they worked with, or saw in the supermarket, or were neighbors and relatives? Was I normal or a true sleaze? I never really talked to other guys about it. I certainly didn't talk to women about it. I always liked to think that my friends, co-workers, and relatives saw me as the perfect gentleman. I didn't want to appear to be a lust monger even though I knew that deep down I was. You never knew when you might need a character witness. OK, that was a joke.

The long legs extending out from the table were only enhanced by the object that had caught my eye in the first place. My eyes followed the lines from my new discovery at her trim ankles, along the well-turned calves and up to there the skirt stopped at the middle of her firm thighs. My mind wouldn't let me stop there and carried my thoughts upward to visualize what I knew had to be a beautiful, moist, succulent pussy. Was it shaved? Was it trimmed? Was it natural? It didn't matter. I had to admit that I would love to bury my face between dear Tonya's thighs or slide my firm manhood up into the warm wetness of her slippery slot.

Despite our working and social friendship, I've had so many fantasies of Tonya over the years I could write a book. She had long been the star of some of my favorite masturbation reveries where she and I were naked on a balcony of our private villa at an island resort. She would be on a flowered lounge chair held her legs wide open to display her perfect female crotch as tropical breezes kissed and teased her wet pussy lips. I was also naked, would be enjoying the sun. I would kneel in front of her to savor her pussy, running my tongue along the soft wet inner lips and into her succulent snatch; licking and nibbling her clit while she moaned and pulled my face to her. She would thrash wildly and scream through orgasm after orgasm. When she lay weak and spent, I would hold her sexy feet high and wide as I slid my hard dick into her to fuck her deep and hard; her hands on my ass pulling me harder and deeper into her as my balls slapped on her asshole. She would whisper into my ear to fill her to overflowing with cum. Finally, when I could no longer hold off the pleasure thrusting my cock in and out of her wet warmth, I would erupt my thick seed into her as I bellowed the satisfaction and joy of my release across the sand and water. I'd imagine my viscous cock-lava erupting into her until it overflowed from her sloppy wet cunt and down into her ass.

I pulled myself back to reality and looked up at her.

"Tonya," I answered. "You shouldn't be surprised. Any man that still has hormones in his veins couldn't help staring at your legs and everything else about you. In fact, I have always thought that your legs demanded special "staring". I just hoped that maybe you'd never catch me doing it. It's not just your legs per se, but something else that just caught my eye for the first time. I'm not sure what I should say about it."

"Well," she quipped. "If you don't say anything about whatever it is that caught your eye, I suppose I shall forever be in the dark won't I?"

"It's your ankle bracelet," I responded.

Yep, I had noticed it for the first time just moments ago. Surrounding her right ankle was a gold chain adorned with a few tiny charms. They were too small to make out from several feet away.

"Oh, this," she said while kicking off her high heeled pump, raising her leg, swinging it under the edge of the table, and placed her foot squarely on my lap. Her shoeless foot was basically resting directly on my manhood that was beginning to harden at the sight and feel of her foot on it. This definitely qualified as "inappropriate behavior" if anybody happened to be looking. Fortunately my back was toward the room and there were very few people around this late after the normal lunch period.

"Did you want a closer look?" she asked coquettishly rotating her foot around. "It's nice don't you think? Phil got it for me."

"Nice indeed," I commented. I was tempted to put my hand around her ankle to check out the charms, but that would have probably set off alarms all over the cafeteria. I prayed nobody was looking back to where we were. I consciously kept my hands well visible and to myself.

"Have you always worn it or is it something new?" I said trying to act calm and casual. "I don't recall seeing it before."

She kept twisting and turning her foot back and forth to show off her ankle jewelry. In doing so, it wiggled right on my dick which embarrassingly continued to swell even more. I was sure she could feel it with her foot. I would have bet a dollar to a dime that she was doing it on purpose. It brought back memories of several foot-jobs I had gotten over the years. I fantasized, or perhaps more like wished, that she would have been happy to make me cum in my pants. If we had both been naked, the whole experience would have been even more delightful than it already was.

"Well, I've been wearing it for about 5 or 6 years now," she responded. "It's funny though, you're only the second person here at the company who has commented about it. Is there a problem of some sort?"

"Not a problem at all," I told her watching (and feeling) her foot wiggle around. "It's just that, well, in some circles, some people might possibly interpret something from it."

She laughed. "Oh, pray tell," she cooed smiling and narrowing her eyes as she looked at me. "Just what sort of interpretation might 'some' people in 'some' circles make?"

I wasn't sure if I might be stepping into a minefield, but I had known Tonya for a long time and felt reasonably safe broaching the topic. Over the years there wasn't much we hadn't talked about or kidded about. We were no strangers to swapping some dirty jokes and a few not too subtle double entendres when we had a few drinks. I decided to just throw it right out there.

I leaned a little closer and said, "Well, from what I've heard, some people in some circles might assume that a woman wearing an ankle bracelet like this one could be a hotwife."

She leaned toward me and said with mock dismay, "I suppose I am indeed Phil's wife, and I've always thought of myself as being sort of hot looking? Is that what you mean?"

Knowing Tonya as long as I had and being fully aware of her wit and sense of sarcasm, I was now sure she was unabashedly pulling my chain.

"Well, I think you know it's not really that," I countered grinning and holding her gaze.

"Then what is it? Do pray tell explain hotwife to me so I can be aware of what some people in some circles might think. I sure wouldn't want to give a misleading impression."

I knew I was being dangled like a puppet on her sarcasm string, but there was no turning back.

"I hotwife, my dear Tonya, is a married woman who essentially plays around with other men with the full knowledge and permission of her husband."

"And you think I'm one of those naughty women?" she said softly reaching over to take my hand. "You don't think I'm a perfectly innocent suburban lady? I'm surprised at you Matthew."

At this point, I couldn't hold back and started to laugh. "Hey, I'm not judging you, Tonya. I think it's great, but I have to admit I never would have thought that you and Phil would be involved with such a thing. But then again, I've learned over the years to never judge people by their public behavior. It just surprises me that as long as we've known each other, I had no clue."

"Oh come on Matthew," she chuckled. "You're the one who blew his own cover. How do you know so much about 'such things'? I have to assume that you aren't some pure and innocent choir boy to even know about ankle bracelets and hotwives."

"Hey, I haven't lived in a cave you know," I told her. "So how long have you and Phil been into this sort of life style? I mean has it been ever since we've known each other?"

"No, not really," she responded. "It's really only been just the past five or six years."

I had to process this. I had known Phil and Tonya for 25 years. Phil often worked on my programs. We sometimes played golf together. He and Tonya had been to many social functions together with me and my wife Jean; yet it seemed that I had no clue about what was going on with them in their private life. Can you ever know what's going on in people's private lives? The truth is that many events in my own life had taught me that the answer was "no". I myself had some secret relationships over the years with women, yet I was willing to bet that none of my friends and family would have suspected anything of me but perfectly proper behavior.

I spoke again, "So you and Phil are swingers?"

"No way," she said emphatically. "At least not in the way I assume you're thinking. We don't run around jumping into bed with strangers, or people we just meet at clubs, or on cruise ships, or stuff like that. That's not who we are at all. We basically just came to understand that traditional monogamy no longer worked for us. We figured out that we had to give each other permission to have physical relationships outside our own bed. Phil and I love each other and respect each other totally, but we also understand that sometimes we want to enjoy the company of someone else we find attractive and compatible. Denying that desire or keeping it secret just causes a lot of tension and negative feelings. It took us a long time to figure it out, but now it's been working well for us. It's not for everybody, but we know what works for us."

"Man," I said shaking my head. "I have so many questions. You have to understand that this almost like I'm meeting two completely new people. It's like a door has opened, and I'm looking into a place I didn't know was there."

"It's not that complicated Mathew," she said. "But it's important that you don't judge or draw wrong conclusions based on limited information. It's never a good idea to judge. Phil and I have long learned to accept how we are different from a lot of other people and most couples. However, we are who we are and we love who we are. We no longer hide things from each other. Phil wants to know about my experiences with other guys, and I tell him. He finds it very erotic, and it arouses him in a way that drives him to take me physically with a passion we haven't felt for years. Sometimes, he tells me about his dates as well. I'm not as into hearing about his lady friends as he seems to be about me with my gentlemen. However, sometimes hearing about what they do together makes me want to prove to him that I'm sexier than they are. It makes me know that I want to win him and hold him. It creates an avenue for a more open and erotic and passionate relationship for each other.

I sat quietly letting her words register.

"Look Matthew," Tonya continued reaching across the table to put her hand over mine. "Are you asking all these questions out of some sort of weird sleazy curiosity, or is there some other more meaningful intent that you haven't yet figured out how to articulate? Are you just chitchatting with me, or are you seriously interested in something else?"