Working Away - The Alternative View

Read "Working Away" by 'Steve' (foldedpaper)? Read "Working Away" by 'Tina' (possibly to become origami)...

Texting 'dirty' didn't come naturally to Tina. After all, she'd been married these last 12 years -- since before mobile phones were common! So she gave her words a fair amount of thought. I want to fuck you senseless...no, too forward, too crude. I want you to fuck me senseless...hmmm...still not right. This was harder than it looked! She thought of some of the IM conversations she'd had with Steve...aaah, maybe move away from actual fucking... "I want to take you right to the edge, with my hands, lips and tongue, before stopping, looking at you, and then gently lowering myself onto you...." That was better, and more accurate too.

_____________________ ________________________

For someone whose working life involved communicating, thought Tina, this job is oh, so isolating. Tina's job involved a lot of telephone sales -- mostly phoning men. However, it's rare to make a real connection. She'd worked here before, and had left for that very reason, but was recently enticed back. Yes, it was fun getting to know some of her old contacts again, and because of her accent, she was certainly remembered (far more than she herself had expected), but still, professional flirting (after all, that's what telephone sales is) can get tedious.

"Hi, is Simon there?" Yet another call, to yet another name vaguely remembered.

"Sorry, Simon doesn't work here any more -- can I help?" Now there was an intriguing voice -- sexy, deep yet intelligent and friendly.

"Well...that depends..." was welcomed with a chuckle. The ice was broken. Tina did her professional bit, but quickly the conversation moved to 'stuff' -- grammar, the way of the world, frustration with other people in general and others in the industry, stuff they'd both read -- it seemed to go on for hours, but in fact was probably 20 minutes. The formalities done with, Tina promised she'd been in touch (on a professional level...pretty much), and hung up.

She couldn't get Steve, the interesting voice on the phone, out of her mind throughout that afternoon. Yes, there had been flirting, but that's par for the course in this industry; in this job -- especially as Tina was a rare female in a male dominated world. Tina had often thought of herself as a 'guy in disguise' -- after all, with her interests (science, science fiction -- certainly not celebrity or fashion) and her dress sense (not masculine, per se, but denim featured heavily) and her demeanour, she'd always got on better with blokes than with birds. Over the phone she'd certainly flirted...but this was different. Still, she had a job to do.

Not long after, Steve mentioned he'd be in town -- perhaps a drink would be in order? Arrangements were quickly made, and a date set. Steve pointed out that he wouldn't know what she looked like, so Tina sent a picture -- dressed all in black (as was her wont). A more-or-less blonde, Tina was not especially thin, but nor was she overweight -- she would have described herself as ordinary, apart from her extraordinarily deep set eyes.

She was early, but knew she'd be so, so settled down with her book (science fiction, of course), iPod and pint. She'd made an effort -- dressed all in black with her prized garment -- a black leather jacket, paired with black boots. She convinced herself that this was just 'client meeting' gear...but a voice in the back of her mind niggled..."you know better, Tina, you fancy him..."

"Don't be ridiculous," said a conflicting voice, "you've not met the man, and you don't even know what he looks like!" "Yes, but..." piped up voice number one, "his voice makes you moist, and you've not had anything for ages...a girl has a right..." The mental argument continued until ten past six, when a swarthy, goateed man walked in and looked and said, "Tina?"

A man stood in front of her, with a guarded smile. "Hi -- you must be Tina". Inwardly, she assessed what she saw. Tall, late 30s (around four or five years older than Tina), slightly awkward with himself. No Brad Pitt, but there was something about him, and she could feel the juices making her slightly moist and warm. She tried to ignore that.

"And you must be Steve," groan! Is that the best line she could come up with? She couldn't have been more obvious if she'd tried. Pints were bought, and the first few seconds of awkwardness were quickly forgotten and abandoned. The talk flowed naturally and easily from one subject to the next. Family, friends, drunken experiences, politics, religion, trivia -- each topic seemed as obvious a subject as the next. A connection had been made.

All too soon, the dreaded last bell had rung. Both Steve and Tina stood up, and nearly tumbled into each other -- several pints had clearly been drunk. Giggling, they made it to the door, and stepped out into the night.

Stopping briefly to light cigarettes, Tina unselfconsciously slipped her arm into Steve's. It felt like the most natural thing in the world. Still chatting and laughing, they walked to the train station. They lived on opposite sides of town, so they knew that the time had come to separate; yet there was still an unspoken something between them.

"Um..." Tina was uncharacteristically lost for words. Flirting was one thing...but following up? Yet she could feel her damp and hot pussy against her jeans...a feeling she'd not had in a very, very long time.

Steve looked down at Tina -- they were both still uncertain whether they were going for the polite 'goodbye' peck...or...she could feel his breath against her face, and see her reflection in his glasses -- was it her imagination, or was she flushed?

Tentatively, their mouths met. At first gentle and careful, yet as the passion mounted so did the urgency. Steve's mouth opened to meet Tina's, and their tongues met, and then frantically searched each other's mouths. Tina could feel Steve's arousal against her abdomen. Her own arousal grew -- she wondered if it showed, if there were damp spots. As their tongues mated, so their hips began to gently thrust against each other. Tina could feel Steve's cock hard against her stomach, and she responded, moving her body more sensually against his. Part of her longed to slip a hand down, and feel his manhood and balls, to take him in her mouth, and into her cunt. But she beat those thoughts down -- she was a married woman, and he a married man, and this wasn't the kind of thing she did anyway!

Suddenly, guilt gripped her -- not for the waiting husband, but she realised how she must look. "Must dash! Trains to catch." She ran for her bus, leaving Steve looking, perhaps, slightly puzzled.

On the bus and then on the train home, she wondered if she'd scared Steve away. "Am I thinking with my clitoris?" she wondered. Yet she could still feel the slickness of her juices in her underwear, and worried that her arousal would be obvious in the laundry.

Sobriety greeted Tina the next morning, and along with it, nearly terminal embarrassment. At least she wished it were terminal. Still, she felt horny, and began to touch herself until her husband stirred beside her. There hadn't been a sex life there for a long time, and why change the habits of a lifetime? He got up to shower, whilst Tina dipped her hand down her pyjama bottoms. At first leisurely, and then more urgently, she rubbed her clitoris, thinking in embarrassment and excitement about the kiss, the hard on, the moistness. She wondered what his cock looked like -- it FELT big through his combats, but beyond that, she could only imagine. And imagine she did. Long before her husband emerged from the shower, she felt the heat beginning at her toes, moving up her legs until it hit her groin, and she came with an intensity she'd forgotten was possible. She could barely keep from groaning aloud with the pleasure -- she could feel her hard nipples against her top, and she thought the spasms would never cease. But before too long, the real world, and her showered husband forced her back from the abyss.

And so to work. Making phone calls was Tina's business...but she debated long and hard before phoning Steve. What would he think? Tina knew she was a flirt, but she'd never been so bold, so forward, so...well...horny. But it was certainly unprofessional and inappropriate...by eleven o'clock she'd found the courage.

"Yes, can I help you?" Uh oh. He didn't sound happy.

"Erm....yes, it's about last night..." Tina could feel herself blush.

She could hear his voice brighten as he realised it was her. That was a bit of a relief, but still, she owed him an apology.

"I'd like to apologise if I was a bit, er, inappropriate?" Tina said, hesitantly "That's not something I normally do, in fact I've never done it before, not like that, anyway, and we're both married and you must think I'm a dreadful tart and I'm really sorry and I hope...."

A more welcome response had never been heard, "please, I was flattered, really, by that -- we were both a bit drunk and hey I enjoyed it anyway".

The relief on both sides was palpable. The friendship was still there, but, it seemed to Tina, so was the chemistry. Or was it her imagination? She was experiencing what a friend had charmingly termed a 'wide on' -- she could feel her pussy opening wide, moistening in anticipation of penetration...but would it ever happen? Should it?

They chatted again about pretty much everything -- chats Tina wasn't used to having at work -- they both laughed and railed about the stupidity of the world. Then, much to Tina's surprise, Steve mentioned he was working on a gig, and would she like to come? It was practically the other end of the world from where Tina lived, but it was the best offer she'd had in ages.

"I'd love to come," the (in)appropriateness of those words not lost on her, "where is it?" Steve gave Tina directions, and suggested they meet at about 7.00.

The days rolled past, and Tina heard nothing from Steve. "Has he changed his mind?" she wondered.

Finally, Friday rolled around, and Tina wondered what to do. At lunchtime, she could stand the suspense no longer, and called. "Are we still on for tonight," she asked hesitantly. She thought she could hear him swallow -- was he as excited and nervous as she was?

"Sure, see you at about 7.00." Not many words, but they were the important ones.

The afternoon seemed to drag. Tina spoke to clients and potential clients. Her mood was certainly lifted, but she could feel her heart racing, and her libido rising. She hadn't felt so wanted, aroused and, indeed damp in years. Is this what it was like to be 15 again?

Finally, the work day ended. Tina shut off her computer and made her way to the train station. It was a fairly long journey, requiring several changes of trains, giving Tina plenty of time to think. She tried to think rationally, and tried to decide mentally that nothing would happen -- that she and Steve were good friends (albeit with flirting), and nothing more. Nevertheless, her mind drifted to the kiss, and her body responded. She was slightly embarrassed to realise that she could smell her sex, that she was becoming wet in her nethers just thinking about it. Still, she tried to force those thoughts down.

Steve had mentioned the bands had a gypsy theme, so (being the unreconstructed aging hippy that she was) had tried to dress appropriately in a peasant blouse and skirt. Would he notice? Did it look needy? Well, the die was cast, and there was nothing she could do about it now! She could feel the air brushing her pussy under her skirt and through her knickers. The breeze only emphasised how horny she was already becoming. Again, she mentally admonished herself, and told herself to behave.

Arriving at the venue (a somewhat seedy pub), Tina spotted Steve -- he was clearly in his element -- professional yet friendly -- he knew what he was doing.

"Hi there sexy," Tina called out. Steve looked up and, much to her relief, seemed genuinely pleased to see Tina.

"Hi -- you look good!" Tina blushed at the unexpected compliment.

Steve still had work to do -- soundchecking the bands (some of whom could be prickly at times), so Tina bought a couple of pints for the pair of them and settled down with a book to wait. She couldn't help but peek up from time to time, and watch the tall, bearded, broad shouldered figure going about his work. Again, she had to clamp firmly down on the thoughts that were sneaking into her brain.

Finally, the work was done, and the bands started. The beer at the venue was poor, and the music fairly amateur (and not really to either of their tastes), so after a couple of beers there, they moved on to a pub Steve knew which had excellent beer, and nicer people. However, the pub may as well have been empty for all the notice Steve and Tina took of the bustling crowd. Surely, thought Tina, everyone MUST notice the chemistry? Must be able to smell the pheromones coming off them? Or was it just her imagination?

After a while (where yet again the world was put to rights), they headed back to the venue to catch the end of the evening's entertainment. Another couple of beers were downed before Steve gallantly offered to walk Tina to the station. Tina was certainly more than tipsy, and Steve not far off. Again giggling like schoolchildren, they walked unsteadily arm in arm.

At the platform, Tina stumbled, and Steve caught her. Laughing, they looked at each other. Tina knew she was drunk, but the alcohol allowed her to ignore the diminishing voice that was telling her to grow up and remember those left at home. She snaked her arms around Steve, pulled his head down towards her, and brushed her lips against his. She could feel the tip of his tongue tentatively explore her lips; she opened her mouth in response. Before even seconds had passed, they were kissing passionately on the platform, oblivious to any possible watchers. She felt Steve's arms on her waist, pulling her in, and she could feel his hardness through his trousers. Her hand dropped down, barely touching his penis -- even drunk she knew that may be taking things a little too far. Still, she could feel her own body respond to his arousal. Her lips were swelling, and her pants were certainly wet.

The train was about to leave -- Tina broke the embrace and jumped on it just in the nick of time. She could see Steve waving at her (and was one of his hands dropping down to his crotch, or was that just accidental?) She sat on the train, light headed, excited, yet scared. Had she offended him? Would he talk to her again? What would happen next?

The weekend was utterly ordinary, yet amazingly strange. Tina dealt with the trials and tribulations of a teenaged daughter, visited the pub with her husband...but her mind kept drifting back to the hazily remembered kiss. She told herself it was the alcohol -- Tina had never had the most robust of self esteems, and hadn't really thought of herself as sexy or forward. She was, in her own mind, behaving in an utterly atypical way.

But still...her mind drifted. She'd tried to call Steve a few times, but just got his voicemail; she couldn't help but worry (but told herself not to -- after all, they were just friends) that he was screening her calls.

A couple of days later, a colleague phoned, asking her if she'd do a pitch up north. She felt a bit out of her depth, and so convinced herself she was asking Steve along on purely a business trip.

She called Steve, "Hello, how can I help you," he answered. She was amazingly relieved he'd answered.

Tina's first response, having worked in a number of male dominated industries was to reply "I can think of one or two things you might be able to help with...!" She immediately regretted it -- after all, this wasn't the usual kind of relationship she had with clients; not the usual kind of relationship she had with people. They chatted for a bit, and all seemed well -- they flirted, the innuendoes flew like starlings in a flock. But then, her nerve failed her.

"Ummm...I realise this may sound strange, but honest, not being funny..." she started. "It's just, I was wondering, I need technical specialist along on a meeting, and I thought of you...."

Tina thought (but was it her imagination) she could hear Steve's breath catch in his throat. "I'd love to, and I could do with the work," Steve replied. They both knew, however, there was more to this than that. Tina asked him whether he'd be willing to share a room, as she didn't think the company would stretch to two...well, he seemed willing. "What the fu** am I getting into," thought Tina....but yet, her body was telling something completely different from her brain.

The day arrived. They met at the railway station -- Tina thought at every turn something would happen, and he wouldn't show. Steve was there, and gosh, didn't he look smart. Suited (she'd never seen him in a suit) and nervous, he looked sexy yet friendly, safe yet ... well...dangerous. She wanted him. And part of her hated herself for it.

They were lucky, and Tina had made the luck to a point, reserving two forward facing seats for the four hour train journey with a table. The luck came in when nobody came to face them.

Tina broke out the laptop, convincing herself it was to actually work. It wasn't a very good act (even to fool herself) and before long, they were listening to music (Tina had thought to bring an extra pair of earphones), flirting, and more -- holding hands, and even snogging. Every time they kissed, Tina could feel her body responding.

The journey was near enough four hours. They seemed to fly. They arrived -- the hotel was but steps from the train station. Tina, having booked the room, checked them both in. Awkwardness ensued...it was clearly one room, and both Steve and Tina knew it would be so, but still...after all, they were both married, just not to each other.

The formalities concluded, they climbed the (many) stairs to the room assigned to them. Once inside...they dropped their luggage and looked at each other, and nearly started speaking simultaneously.

"We can stop at any..." "You don't have to..." "We'll be close regardless..." "There's no pressure..."

Finally, Steve broke the deadlock. "Let's unpack then." Tina sighed in relief at a decision deferred, and they got to it. Before long, though (after all, it was only an overnight stay), the unpacking was completed.

They looked at each other for maybe a minute. They were stood, slightly self-consciously between the bed and the dressing table. Steve turned towards Tina and, almost at an unspoken command, they were kissing.

"Really, you don't..." "I don't usually do this...I'm sorry..." the apologies and awkwardness built, to a point, and then Tina grabbed Steve's tie, (figuring hung for a sheep as for a lamb, after all, if they were going to get caught, this would be as bad as...well...that), and kissed Steve for all he was worth.

She felt Steve's hand snake around her neck, pulling her closer. She responded by wrapping her arms around him in turn.

As the kiss broke, she felt (and saw) Steve's hand move from her neck and shoulder and start to undo her blouse. Tina wanted it. She'd succumbed and welcomed the seeming inevitability of what was happening. And she wanted it.

Tina drew breath as Steve's hands brushed her breasts as he undid her blouse. He slipped her shirt off her shoulders, and gently reached to undo her bra. She clutched her bra to herself, in a sudden fit of shyness, and nervousness -- she was no longer in the first flush of youth, and she wore a slightly padded bra -- what if he didn't like what he saw?

Gently, Steve moved Tina's hands out of the way and Tina could see his admiration. His head dipped, and his lips and tongue brushed her nipple. Tina couldn't help but gasp as the touch sent shudders up her spine, and down to her groin.