Tension and Release

My suitcase thumped as it landed on the bed. Olivia, still awkwardly shuffling hers through the door, whistled.

"Not bad for the price. I was expecting something a lot more cramped."

"Honestly, me too. Especially considering it's not a suite or anything," I replied.

The room was, in truth, unremarkable. Olivia and I had chosen a room with two twin-beds, two desks, and a nightstand for each of us. We were only going to be there three nights, so comfort was secondary to cost.

Olivia and I were in Salina, Kansas. We had been sent there to oversee the onboarding process of new account managers. In short, we were glorified hand-holders. We'd spend the working hours letting the up-and-comers barrage us with questions and then fill out a report at the end of the day. We were both mid-level managers for Ocean Express, a shipping company specializing in glassware, so we got saddled with the trip.

In truth, I got stuck with the trip, and Olivia offered to join. I didn't mind the company, and Olivia tagging along meant that our daily budget doubled. Olivia was also the one who suggested sharing one room, unbeknownst to our bosses. She had pulled me aside a few days before we left, her eyes shining with mischief, and suggested that we could spend the money meant for the extra room on some upscale dinners and drinks. I decided that I wouldn't mind a taste of the good life, even if it's just for a few days.

Olivia let the door slam behind her, shaking me from my thoughts, and plopped onto the bed closer to the door; she was doubled over, worrying at her sneakers.

"Since you already took the window bed while I was struggling with my suitcase--thanks for the help by the way--I'll take this bed."

Even though she was bent at the waist, I could see the smile on her face.

"Sounds like a plan. And, you're welcome," I said, crossing the room to hang up my clothes. "What do you say we get changed and check out the bar downstairs?"

"It's three in the afternoon! Are you thirsty already?" She had reclined back on the bed.

"They serve food too. I'm not talking about drinks yet. How's the bed?"

Olivia shrugged, "Not bad. I've had worse, but I've definitely had better. Let's go down in an hour maybe? I want grab a shower. I always feel nasty after being on an airplane."

"That's fair. I'm just gonna shower later I--ough ough!" My sentence was cut short by a coughing fit.

Olivia seemed taken aback.

"You good?"

"Yeah, just stuffy I guess. It happens when I fly."

"Alright. But if you get sick, I'm locking you in this room. Emily would kill me if I brought something back from this. Plus, she's a drama queen when she has even a cold. I don't want to deal with it."

"Don't worry I won't give you anything. Now get in the shower already I'm starving."

Olivia flipped me the bird as she went into the bathroom. I finished unpacking, which was really just putting my underwear in the nightstand drawers. I decided against getting changed; sweats and a tee were good enough for an early dinner. Besides, I'd be in business wear for just about the rest of our time here. I opened the window and marveled at the pathetic view we had. Our room was overlooking the hotel parking lot, and the building was completely fenced in by other, presumably better, hotels.

I heard the shower stop running, and seconds later Olivia was walking out of the bathroom wrapped in a white towel. Her raven hair was matted with water and clung to her shoulders in thick locks. The towel was just too small to comfortably cover everything. It only reached to about halfway down her thighs and, if not for her clutching it at her chest, would barely wrap around her breasts. I was stunned at first, but I tried my best not to stare. The last thing I wanted was to be sharing a room with a woman who was convinced I was a pervert.

"Oh you just have to see this view," I called, turning around to the window as to take my eyes off her body.

Olivia crossed the room and stood by my side. I became even more aware of her body; I felt my cock shift in my pants.

"No way!" She cooed, sarcasm seeping into her voice. "We can see the whole parking lot! Is that a dumpster?"

"You better believe it. And look! There's someone carrying a suitcase to their car!"

"This place really has everything huh?" Olivia put her hand on my shoulder as she spoke.

Her touch sent a shockwave through my body. Seeing her in a skimpy towel had gotten me more worked up than I realized. I felt my cock shift even more and I began to get earnestly hard. Luckily, Olivia stepped away before she had a chance to notice.

"Can you close the curtains? I don't feel like flashing whoever is in the upper floors of those hotels."

"Yeah," I croaked.

I closed the curtains and took the chance to check out how much my erection was showing through my sweatpants. My cock was pushing against the fabric. Although you couldn't make out every detail, it would be hard to miss. I doubted that Olivia would judge me or even check--after all, she was the one in a little towel--but I didn't want to take the risk.

"How's this gonna work?" Olivia asked.

"How's what gonna work?"

I was stuck; I had no choice but to turn around. Olivia's clothes were laid out on the bed, and she was standing awkwardly next to her bed.

"Getting dressed, duh. I'd go in the bathroom, but I'm not putting my clothes on the wet floor."

She was clutching the towel a little looser, which showed off the beginning of her cleavage. This did nothing to help my erection; I felt it jump in my pants.

"I don't know. I could turn around, and you could cover up the good bits fast."

Olivia shrugged, and the towel slipped just a bit more.

"Whatever. If you try and peek though, I'll smother you in your sleep."

She pointed an accusatory finger at me during. The threat was somewhat diminished by the panties she had picked up; they dangled off her fist and wagged as she pointed. I tried to hide a smile and failed.

"You just remember that," She said, smiling herself. "I'll do the same for you. You won't catch me trying to get a look though."

Ironically, her eyes darted down to my crotch as she spoke. It was maybe half a second, but I could feel her tracing my bulge. It sent my heartrate skyrocketing. For whatever reason, I wasn't embarrassed. Instead, I was turned on by the fact that she had checked out my erection. I wanted her to keep looking, to let go of her inhibitions, to admire my body the same way I had admired hers. I shifted my weight, trying to push my cock just slightly more in front of me. She had already taken a look; now, I wanted to push the envelope.

"Alright, I'm getting cold. Turn around."

I did so. The sexual thrill of showing myself to Olivia had to be tempered. This was a work trip first and whatever else it would evolve into second. I felt myself soften slightly at the sobering thought of any workplace ramifications of my little exhibitionist kick.

"Done," Olivia called.

She was standing in her bra and panties, shimmying a sundress up her legs.

"Mostly done," I said.

"Mike, listen. You said cover the good bits and that's what I did," She teased, looping the straps of the dress over her shoulders. "Besides, are you complaining?"

"Not at all." I put my hands up in a mock offended gesture. "I feel underdressed now. Should I change?"

"Just some jeans should be fine. I don't think tight sweatpants really screams upscale."

"Good point. They're not that tight though."

"They look pretty tight to me," she rebutted, sparing another glance at my turgid cock.

This made me start to stiffen again.

"Whatever, whatever. Turn around."

Olivia turned around, facing the wall and fussing with her earrings. I didn't bother to face away from her at all. I turned to the side and dropped my pants. I always wear boxer-briefs. This pair, in particular, left little to the imagination. If Olivia turned around she could see every inch of my prick. The thought was, of course, only making my cock strain more against the fabric.

I was pulling my jeans up my legs when I began to have another coughing fit. I leaned onto the bed, hacking and wheezing. When it passed, I saw Olivia had turned around and was gawping at me.

"What happened to not peeking?" I asked. I was still pulling my pants up, but slowly. I was sent right back into my exhibitionist fantasy, and I wanted to make it last.

"I thought coughing was your signal," She said, a smile was creeping along her face and her cheeks were blushed. "You're covered up anyways, mostly."

She was staring now, just as I'd wanted. My heart was hammering as I pulled up my jeans and zipped them closed. I tried to move as deliberately as I could; I didn't want her to notice how badly my hands were shaking from the excitement. Her eyes left my crotch and traveled to my face.

"That's true. I was just changing my pants."

"Oh," She waved her hand. "It's just your boxers, who cares? It's no different than me being in my underwear. You don't even have to warn me."

My heart skipped a beat at that. I was planning on taking full advantage of that. If she wasn't going to raise any qualms about me standing practically naked in front of her, then I wouldn't either.

"You ready? You're the one that was giving me attitude before."

"Yeah, let's go."

Lunch was uneventful. The time was spent mulling over our upcoming days and lamenting how we were the ones that got stuck with the unenviable responsibility. Whatever sexual tension the two of us had created seemed to stay within the confines of the hotel room. Downstairs in the bar, we were two typical, if not a bit more amiable than most, coworkers. As the paltry crowd that had filtered into the bar began to disperse, Olivia beckoned me closer.

"Check this out," She said, reaching into her purse. "I spoke with Mazur before we left, and he agreed to give me my meal budget in cash."

She waved a wad of bills at me as if to accentuate her point.

"Why?"

"I don't know about you, but I'm using this trip to cut loose a little bit. Yeah, I'll still show up on time and do my job. But come night time, I'm enjoying myself."

She tucked the cash back inside of her purse.

"No, that makes sense. I mean why even bother getting it in cash? We both have company cards."

"Because," She started. She was letting a goofy grin spread across her face. "If we rack up serious damage on the card and Mazur or Singh see we spent our meal budget on booze, they're gonna think you and I are alcoholics. I don't need that little detail showing up at work or at home."

"So, you're admitting you're an alcoholic?"

"No!" She exclaimed, letting a friendly punch fly. "I'm just saying if Emily hears I was out stinking the bar up with you on company time, she'd kick me out before I could even open my mouth."

"My lips are sealed. You're buying the drinks then." I gave the bartender a nod. "I'm feeling a mojito, you?"

"What are you on a diet? I'm getting a white Russian."

The first round of drinks was spent teasing each other over our drinks of choice and gossiping about our bosses and fellow employees. Singh got most of the jibes. When we reached the end of our cocktails, we decided to switch to something lighter: wine. Still, our inhibitions were diminishing the more we drank. Olivia let a few ribald jokes slip, though they were nothing too bawdy. I was tempted to joke back in the same way, but thought better of it after the display I had put on back in the hotel room.

Towards the end of our second round, Olivia leaned closer to me.

"I forgot to tell you, Emily has no idea that I'm sharing a room with you or that I'm going to be drinking like a fish." She threw the rest of her drink back.

"Between Mazur and Emily why all the secrecy?"

"Well, Mazur I already explained. Emily, don't get me wrong I love her, she just isn't a fan of drinking. I don't think she would mind us sharing the room, separate beds and all that. Besides..." She waggled her left hand at me, showing off the simple wedding band.

The bartender came back over with the bottle and topped off Olivia's glass. I drained mine and gestured for a refill, not wanting to be outdrank.

"What did you tell Hailey?" Olivia asked.

I wagged my left hand. There was a ring of pale flesh on my finger where my wedding ring had been.

"And you were giving me shit for being secretive. When did you guys split?"

"I wasn't giving you shit; I was just teasing you. And we split about three months ago. It didn't seem important to talk about in the office."

Olivia pouted. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

"Not really. Besides, there isn't much to talk about. If we were right for each other, we wouldn't have gotten divorced. I guess you're not the only one that's here to blow off steam. I'm glad I've got a drinking buddy now." I winked at her over my glass. "Emily really doesn't like you drinking?"

"Bah, it's just a sore spot for her. It's better if I don't drink anyways--healthier. I'm happy not to when I'm home. But every now and then, I just need to cut loose. She won't scream at me or anything, but she still gets a little cagey when I come home drunk. It's better for both of us if I just keep it under wraps."

After another round, I noticed color creeping into Olivia's pale cheeks. It gave her a sultry, inviting look, and reminded me of how she had blushed a few hours earlier. I, now becoming good and honestly drunk, decided to push the envelope just a bit.

"So, I was wondering," I started; Olivia's eyes perked up. "Why is it that Emily wouldn't mind us sharing a room?"

Olivia laughed; she must have been expecting the question.

"Her and I, we have an agreement." She left me in suspense.

"Go on," I prodded.

"I like to blow off steam by drinking, and she blows off steam by having a night out every once in a while."

I gave her a puzzled look.

"She gets on Tinder or Bumble or something and, you know, goes out." She accentuated the words.

"But I thought you two were... you know."

"Lesbian? Jesus, Mike. You can say the word it's not a slur."

"Alright, Alright. I'm just not used to talking about it that's all," I said, feeling my own cheeks begin to redden. "You're okay with her nights out?"

"Of course, I just gave her one rule and..." She paused. "I shouldn't be telling you this."

There was a smile on her face that told me otherwise. She wanted to tell me, but she wanted me to push her just a bit; she was enjoying the buildup.

"Oh, come on! It was just getting good. Here I thought you were opening up to me. I'm hurt," I teased. I put on an exaggerated pouty face, trying to make her laugh. It worked. Though, another coughing fit overcame me.

"Fine, fine, fine. Don't hack up a lung over it," She paused to finish her drink. "She can have her nights out, so long as she's honest about them. She gives me the details and sometimes..."

Olivia paused as the bartender refilled her glass. I, so enrapt in her story, didn't notice him until he began to pour. Olivia took a drink and a heavy breath, bracing herself for what she was about to tell me.

"Sometimes--well, most of the time--she sends me a picture or two of it."

I was stunned. It was not so much what she had told me that took me aback. Rather, it was who was involved. Olivia's cheeks reddened even more, and she buried her face in her hands, laughing.

"The look on your face! Don't ever tell a soul about that!" She was pointing at me. Her eyes had taken on a bold, daring cast. Their crystal blue had transformed, somehow, into a stony icy gray. That, or it was because of the wine I had drunk.

"I won't, I won't," I replied, peeling my eyes away from hers. "Sorry, it just took me off guard. I never would have guessed that's what you're into. Can I ask details?"

"Yeah, fuck it. The cat's out of the bag."

"So, she's not lesbian?"

"No, she still is. It's just... Look at it this way. Vegetarians still get the urge to eat a steak every now and then, right? Well, she likes to eat steak way more often than I do. So long as she stays within the rules that we set up, who cares if she indulges herself once in a while? So long as she's only doing it with men, I can live with it. Other women are off limits."

I took this in with, I hope, grace. I was surprised at the ease with which she approached the topic. It was neither shocking or taboo to her. I was also amazed at how a coworker with whom I had had a close relationship with, albeit not sexual, was divulging her wife's extracurricular lays.

"So, what about you? Do you ever get in the mood for steak?"

"Pfft, you really think that line is gonna get you laid tonight?" She smiled as she poked fun at me.

"No, I don't. Besides, I closed the book on you a long time ago."

It was her turn to act stunned. Her face lit up in a broad grin; her eyes went wide with surprise.

"And what is that supposed to mean?" She asked with a mocking glare.

"When you first started working in the office, I was still with Hailey. I thought you were more than good looking, but between my wife and your...diet it wasn't gonna happen. So, I never really thought about it."

Olivia leaned back in her chair, giving me an appraising look.

"You're telling me you never thought about it once?"

"Oh, I've thought about it more than once, but I just never pursued it. Speaking of, how long has it been since you... ate steak?"

Olivia chuckled to herself.

"You don't have to be cute," she said. "The last time I slept with a man was over eight years ago. I haven't really had the urge. What Emily sends me takes care of any urges I might get."

I turned away, biting my lip and smiling. I could see Olivia staring at me out of the corner of my eye. She saw the look on my face and wanted to pry.

"What?" She gave me a playful shove. "Spit it out!"

"I'm just wondering... I shouldn't ask. I don't want to offend you."

"Oh, just ask it! We've crossed enough lines already."

"What exactly does she send you?"

The bar was beginning to fill up. We had spent close to four hours there--the last two of which were spent drinking. Olivia peered around.

"Why don't we get a bottle for the room, and I'll tell you up there?" She waved the bartender over.

I felt a surge of excitement rush through my body. We had come down to the bar and left whatever sexual tension behind in the room. Now, we were bringing a whole new level of tension back with us.

The bartender handed us our bottle and two glasses, and we called the elevator. I began to have another coughing fit as we waited.

"Are you sure you're not sick?" Olivia asked.

I could only nod in response.

Once we were back in the room, Olivia headed straight to her bed and started rummaging through her suitcase, while I set us up with two fresh glasses of wine. At this point, I was well and truly drunk. By the way Olivia swayed as she untied her shoes, I guessed she was as well.

"So, you were saying?" I prodded.

"One sec, let me just change into sweats."

She had her back to me, and was pulling the straps of her dress off her shoulders. My first instinct was to turn away and preserve some level of modesty between us, but I couldn't resist what was happening in front of me.

Olivia shimmied the dress down her body, wiggling as it came to rest at the arch of her ass. She pulled it off her and she was standing in front of me in only a thong and bra. I let my eyes travel along the smooth, pale skin of her legs. The backs of her thighs culminated in a slight gap, so I could just make out the back of her mound covered by the dark green of her thong. Her ass was two perfect globes that barely jiggled as she moved around; they were pure muscle. Her body was toned and fit, with defined muscles that gave her a sleek runner's appearance.