The Temptation: Curvy Cutie at Work

I've been a loyal husband for the last five years. Even while Tass and I were dating, I never flirted with a co-worker before. Now I was getting in over my head at my new job at the dollar store.

It's not a fancy gig; I know that I'm above the role but it's what you have to do sometimes. Work the shitty job until something better comes along.

I work with loser-type people, and I say that humbly. I'm no better or more educated than most of the folks I work with. But everybody's either younger and aimless or older with no ambition.

The work is repetitive and mind numbing, but it's not a high stress role. I'm either stocking, running till, or occasionally some inventory. Work started being something I looked forward to once Molly started working.

Molly was 20 years old to my 30. I had to show her around on her first day and our chatting was brief. She was a little shy, but maybe it was first day nerves. I tried to convey a casual vibe, so she knew the job wasn't anything to stress over. She was pleasant, and asked the odd questions.

In my mind I wasn't so calm. She was a cutie. Dark hair, fair skin. She had sort of a muted goth/punk look: nothing extreme but she had a little black earing and maybe a wrist tat.

Worst of all, from a married man's point of view, she was very much my type, physically. Almost to a cruel accuracy. She was chubby, almost skirting the definition of a BBW. Just cute and chubby would be the best description.

For context, my wife Tass is curvy as well, but also thirty years old. More than chubby, she's gained weight over the years. It hasn't decreased my attraction to her, but it's caused her to be less confident, which has affected our sex life to a degree.

I don't hide much from my wife, but I didn't mention a new girl at work in our daily discussions whatsoever. I wasn't sure why at first.

After a couple weeks, Molly had warmed up to me a bit. she knew I was married, and I acted the part pretty well. I didn't flirt, I just asked about basic life topics: old jobs, hobbies, news. I kept it light.

But internally, I was developing a crush. I glanced at her often, and thought about her before falling asleep. I looked forward to work. I thought of things I might say. I was feeling crazy.

Molly was single. It came up when she asked me how long I'd been with Tass.

"Five years is a long time, way to go!" She offered a high five and I took it. It was the first time we touched.

"And dating for...like, three? So eight total."

"Wow. I've only had a couple boyfriends, couple years each."

"But I've got years on you, so don't feel bad." Not sure what I meant by that, really.

"I don't. I'm happy being single." She visibly shed some sense of professionalism. She was loosened up more.

"Hey, great. Right on." I was lost for words. Molly made me nervous. She made my heart race. I was starting to think she might be aware.

We stocked shelves side by side most mornings. We didn't always have to. Sometimes I'd find an excuse to be near her in case it led to conversation. Sometimes it seemed like she'd do the same.

One day she bumped me with a gentle hip check as she saddled up beside me.

I must have blushed instantly, because she tried to brush it off as an accident.

"Sorry, my balance is for shit." She took a step away to not be so close.

It was such an exciting little moment that I was stunned. I felt bad that she might have thought I was weirded out.

I sidestepped next to her and returned the gesture. I bonked her with my less cushioned waist, but stayed close to her.

Too close. Way too close.

"Damn, we both be clumsy." I felt like a huge dork as the words hung in the air for far too long. I was still standing a foot away. Silent. Why? What the hell was my plan?

She looked at me and smiled. She was beet red. Blushing as much as I was. I looked down at the shelves. I was so excited but my mind kept blasting me with accusations of infidelity.

"So..." I said, trailing off.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I like working with you. You talk to me like a normal person, and you don't hit on me. Or you don't, like...do lame pickup lines. But I like that it feels like you're just on the verge."

I looked into her hazel eyes. I told her what I wanted to say for the last couple days.

"I only enjoy working when you're around, Molly. You're the best part of my day, which makes me an asshole, because..." I held up my ring. "I don't hit on you, but I wish I could. I guess I did just then. A little."

She looked back at the shelves.

"You can hit on me anytime. It's not cheating. I like the attention, but I would never ask you to ruin your marriage if it feels like cheating to you. I just..." She bit her lip and looked at me.

"I just...have a crush on you, and I think you might have one on me. I bumped into you today to see...I don't know. See what you would say. Or do."

I looked around. Nobody was going to care that we were lost in this weird moment.

"Maybe I do. Okay, look. I totally do."

"That's enough for me." She laughed a little. It was the cutest laugh I had ever heard. "Let's just half-forget this, okay? Just remember, if the mood ever strikes, don't hesitate to hit on me. I won't push you for anything else."

She walked away, maybe just to give us a break from each other. I didn't see her until the end of the day. By then I had some time to rationalize our conversation. She was right, flirting wasn't cheating. Nothing physical would happen.

Not that day.

When she walked out the door she waved goodbye. Her expression said it all: we have a cool little secret.

The next two work days were without Molly. I hated every hour.

When she returned it felt oddly similar to before she opened up the flirting conversation. We talked about her days off and plans for the holidays.

"Nothing big, close family only on the one day." She seemed uninterested in family stories. "Sitting on my fat ass and gaming."

I jumped at the chance to bring up her ass in conversation. I didn't know how to flirt well but I wanted to try.

"Ah, your ass isn't that fat."

She brightened up at my enthusiasm. "How would you know? Been staring when I walk past?"

The store was pretty dead this early. I only really had to worry about saying something lame, not anybody eavesdropping.

"If I was staring you'd never know! If I was sly enough. "

"Hmm. Good point. But I got my eyes on you, perv."

We chatted about what games she played and other mundane things for a bit. Later, she asked me to help her in the stockroom.

That was a first. I came in and she was staring at a box on a top shelf.

"Strong guy help weak, short girl?" She rapidly blinked her eyelashes.

I laughed. "Okay, but you owe me!" I reached for the box.

"Name your price."

I sensed no sarcasm in her voice. I handed her the box and an idea came to me.

"Okay. Tell me something you've never told anyone."

She wasn't expecting such an open ended question. She stood there with her mouth open for a second.

"Huh. Well played. I might take a few."

I nodded and we resumed stocking near each other. She left briefly and returned, approaching me with a little smirk on her face.

"I got something."

"Okay," I said, not expecting much.

"I love the taste," she said, slowly lowering the volume of her voice, "of my own pussy."

I wasn't ready for that. I sort of stared, expecting her to reveal it to be a joke.

She came into my personal space. I could smell her perfume.

"Not kidding." She held up her finger. "I was just in stock room alone. In that corner with no camera. I put my hand down my pants. I put this finger inside me. So, my question for you is: do you want to watch me suck my finger? Or do you want a taste?"

I broke from my statue pose. I grabbed her hand gently and licked her finger once from bottom to top. She was almost surprised, but not quite.

I realized two things: I had just taken a decent step towards real cheating, if I wasn't already. The second thing: her finger tasted clean, like she had just washed her hands. I had been played like a fiddle.

She grinned madly as I walked away cursing.

"Fuck, Molly. Shit, you got me. Damn you!" I felt an arm on me and she spun me around.

She planted a small wet kiss on my lips and took a step back. She looked solemn. Unsure, maybe.

"You asked! I was telling the truth. Except for the finger. But you licked my finger. I didn't think you would. I'm sorry I kissed you first. I didn't plan that, but you..."

"Damn," I said. "What the fuck am I doing."

She said, "It was nothing. Don't stress out."

But I knew she was wrong.

The day was awkward after that. I made little jokes with her but nothing sexual. I said bye when she left, but didn't watch her for too long. I was feeling very torn.

Things at home were fine, but I sensed that there was now a secret that I could potentially expose if I clammed up when asked how things were. I played it cool, but I felt a little ill.

It didn't help that my wife and I were in a long dry spell.

I was both vibrating with excitement for the following day with Molly, but I dreaded my own actions. I didn't want to cheat, but I felt strangely funneled down a path that seemed to offer no other outcome.

The next day I didn't see Molly until near the end of my shift. She caught me in the break room.

"Hey." She seemed sad.

"Hey Moll, what's up?"

She seemed to lighten a little at my first use of her nickname. I had heard her friend use it once when she dropped by.

"I feel bad. Maybe like I should...quit. I said I wanted your attention. You've delivered. But I feel now like I'm destroying your good guy thing. It's ironically why I like you."

I tried to grasp the message she fed me. "Please don't quit. I would hate that. You didn't ruin me. I'm just trying to keep my head above water. This is new for me."

"Yeah. I'm clueless too. You make me feel so happy. But I just say and do the craziest shit, cause I'm neurotic and I love the attention you give me."

Liza, an older employee, walked in. She would be having lunch for a bit. She was blind to our conversation, and didn't notice when we moved to the spare room to continue it.

It was an office, now it housed the brooms. This space was smaller.

I didn't know what to say, but I tried.

"We make each other happy. But we can't act on those feelings much because then there's guilt."

She nodded.

"But it also feels bad to stop this. If you quit I'd be miserable."

"But," she whispered, "you'd move on. Eventually."

She looked so sad. She knew it was the truth. I didn't want to lie.

"There's also the fact that if we fully gave in to our primal...whatever...we might ruin it just as badly."

That didn't feel as true as her claim about me moving on in time. But that instinct was probably just my urges overpowering my mind. Tricking me into rationalizing cheating.

"You think we'd ruin things? You and me having fun at work, if we kept this up?"

She put her hand on mine. I didn't object.

"Maybe we just do the best we can," I said, "to resist as long as we can." I held her hand.

It was the epiphany I needed. I felt stronger knowing that I would almost assuredly give in to Molly eventually. But finding excitement in the struggle itself made the whole thing seem more manageable.

"Wow, yeah. I mean...We'd have so much more fun if we draw it out longer." She inched closer. "I think I'm going to go. But just know that sometime tonight I'm gonna cum to this moment, silly as it is. With you here alone with me in what can only be called a broom closet."

"I will too." I kissed her quickly, and left the room. I went home.

I didn't lie. When my wife was asleep, I thought of Molly and I came. I was on a collision course now.

After the holidays, Molly returned.

Things were different. We were already so much closer to acting out our deepest urge on day one. But now there wasn't any question that it would eventually occur, so the guilt was softened, somehow. It was delusional, but I allowed it.

She exposed her cleavage more often by unbuttoning her shirt when I was working. I would shamelessly ogle her body while she watched. She started to whisper things to me when she walked past.

"My pussy's wet right now."

"Hint for later. Bite my nipples."

"Jerked off to you last night."

I could never pull it off the same way, so I stuck to just telling her what I liked about her body. Always on the down low.

She was squatting near the floor to update price tags. Her pants were sagged and a bright pink thong stuck out.

"Damn, I wish I was that pink bastard right now."

She looked at me mischievously. "Not today you don't. Been sweatin' too much."

"I've smelled your sweat. I don't hate it. I'd huff you all day."

"Jeez. What a weirdo." She laughed and reached back, pulling it up higher. Thong wedgie. "You don't wanna be this guy. He lives in my asshole."

I threw my hands up and made an unsure face. She called after me, accusing me of being weird.

The next day I watched as she put her hand down the front of her pants, and as she walked past me, wiped her hand across my face. Slowly.

I had plenty of time to whiff her scent. She must have stuck a finger in because I had that smell or me for an hour.

In the stockroom she walked past me, and stopped. She walked to the blind spot, and flashed me. Huge tits fell from her bra, both nipples pierced. She put them back into her bra and pulled her shirt back. She just walked away.

Things were reaching a melting point.

There was a staff party coming up. The owners decided on a local place, and they served booze. That might make things harder. We were already being reckless. We both looked forward to the day only because the other was going.

I had offered for my wife to join me, after talking about the horrible people I worked with and how we'd be doing quizzes and work games. It was a stupid lie, but it was probably why she decided not to go. All according to my asshole husband plan.

Throughout this, Tass seemed oblivious to my secret flirtatious affair. Only I alone lay awake with the knowledge of my poor moral conviction. But I was dedicated to staying the course.

The day came.

I never really saw Molly in street clothes. She was wearing a little more makeup and she had a jean skirt with a black tee. Her skirt went halfway up her thighs.

I was doomed.

Most of work showed up. Molly sat next to me. Nobody seemed all too interested in my private life. I don't think many people knew I was married. Nobody ever brought up Molly and I in conversations about workplace flirting. We were fairly careful.

She drank, a little more than me at first. She slowed as the night went on.

She started with footsies. She played it simple and worked me up slowly. Then her hand was on my leg. Enough conversation and background noise made our actions pretty covert.

I put my hand on her thigh. It was bare. Her skin was warm and smooth. She moved to my member.

Molly's hand now gently massaged my package. I was hard within seconds. Her thighs drifted apart and allowed me to explore further.

I traced my fingers down her creamy, soft thighs. I found no trace of underwear. Only the smooth shaven flesh of her mound. I looked at her, something I had barely done that evening.

She was smiling coyly at me as I found her entrance. She was slick with arousal, and I felt little resistance as I penetrated her with my finger.

Her expression changed to one of pleasure. She bit her lip and closed her eyes.

I pulled it out and put my elbow on the table. I looked around the room as I popped my finger in my mouth as I sucked her juices off my digit.

She wasn't expecting it. She laughed a little but then just stared at me, smiling wide.

"It tastes fucking good," I said at normal volume. Nobody could guess what I was up to.

She smiled harder, like it thrilled her to hear I loved the taste of her. She wasn't neurotic, she actually tasted quite good. I didn't blame her for enjoying herself then and again.

She gripped me harder now, and I was a little unsure how we'd proceed. Then things were starting to wind down by that time, and people were leaving. We no longer had the advantage of blending in to a large crowd.

I offered to drive her home. She accepted.

Enough time had passed that I was totally sober, but still riled up from our on goings.

"Can't believe you just tasted me in front of Derek and Donna."

"Oh yeah. You have good taste...get it?"

"Shut up." Molly punched me lightly.

So...What now? I had no plan.

As if reading my mind, she said, "This is it, I think."

I didn't have to ask. "You might be right."

"I think we fuck tonight, or we're doing it wrong."

Again, I knew what she meant despite our dancing around it.

"It's the perfect night," I said, "The perfect..."

"Excuse?" She was dying for me, and her words conveyed it accordingly. She looked over at me.

"You might think you're double dipping. Getting more than you deserve." She put her hand on my leg again. "But you're just getting what you want. I don't want you losing what you already have, so I will never betray your trust. What we do is our secret. I expect nothing from you."

"Moll..."

We parked in her driveway. We never made it to her house. Her street was dark. I moved over to the passenger seat as she held herself up to allow me to sit. I pulled the seat back flat.

Molly turned and sat on my lap. Her weight rested on me, and I felt her curvaceous ass grind into me. I pulled down my pants and she pulled up her skirt. She lifted once more.

"I've wanted this for a while. Since I met you."

She lowered and I slipped inside her warmth.

She was tight, but giving. She let out a moan that I would not have pictured coming from her mouth. It killed me. I could have finished in that moment.

But nerves were on my side. My heart was racing. I was cheating on my wife, no question now. But I let that go.

I focused on the girl I spent a month daydreaming about. She just wanted me, and I just wanted her. Simple.

All our flirtations, all the dirty talk. Which reminded me...

I leaned forward and palmed her breast. I reached under her bra. I couldn't reach her with my mouth but I pinched her nipples gently. She moaned deeper and increased her thrusting. Her ass kept pounding against me and I couldn't believe it was the same ass that I lusted after, day after day.

She reached up and squeezed her fingers on mine, applying much more pressure to her pierced nipple. She pulsed and gripped me inside, and kept up that pace.

"Oh...kayyy." She moaned again. "I'm gonna, fucking I'm gonna-"

She cried out in loud, shuddering moans that brought me past the point of no return. I came hard inside her, which seemed to extend her orgasm. She was fucking me so hard, pounding me into the seat. I was getting soft when she finally slowed down.

She didn't get up. I was soft inside her.

"Holy. Fuck. That-" She was out of breath.

"That was fucking amazing. That was...wow." My body felt drained.

"You did the nipples! You remembered!"

"I did."

"Sorry, I might be crushing you, but I just wanna stay here a little longer." She wiggled her hips a little.

"Don't get up. Not crushing."

"Kay. I just wanted to say that it was better than I had hoped. I just hope it was close to that good for you."

"Moll, I thought I'd hate myself. I don't. That was the best sex of my life."

"Aw. Well I'd call you crazy but it was for me, so."

"Sorry that I..." I hadn't used my brain. I just came inside a co-worker.

"I'm pilled up."

"Oh, cool."

"Only reason I let you. No babies from me! No drama."

"It's funny, I've never been...kept...inside someone after sex. I'm all soft but still chillin' in there. Feels good."