Forgetful Not Ch. 03

Chapter 3: Go With The Flow

She said I'll throw myself away
They're just photos after all
I can't make you hang around
I can't wash you off my skin....
Outside the frame,
Is what you're leaving out
You won't remember anyway...

Queens of the Stone Age-Go With The Flow

He sat in his car, absently tapping his thigh with his fingers, glancing at the building every so often. His frustration was nearly overwhelming. The fact that he'd been trying to reach Lydia all week and she wouldn't answer or return his calls was pissing him off in ways unimaginable. He'd gotten over his minor obsession with her weeks ago, but his wife's insistence that he contact her to cater the country clubs fall fundraiser after finding her business card in his coat pocket, had put her on his radar again. The first time he'd called, she'd hung up, upon hearing his voice immediately. He'd gritted his teeth and called right back, only to have her hurriedly say, "I can't do this." And hang up again.

He'd called and left numerous messages, but she wouldn't return his calls. Meanwhile, his wife grew ever more persistent in nagging him about contacting her. He finally decided he'd pay little-miss Lydia a visit. He couldn't deny the fact that he was looking forward to seeing her. He couldn't wait to see her jaw drop when he told her he only wanted to speak to her about catering and nothing else. He was no longer interested in her in any possible way and had in fact found another hole to fill in the form of the temp he'd hired a few weeks ago. She resembled Lydia, but didn't have her adorable two left feet syndrome. Which was just as well, he only needed to fuck her and get Lydia out of his system. He sat frowning over the steering wheel, thinking of the temp and how 'receptive' she'd been, when Lydia finally stepped into view. She walked slowly, carefully balancing her Starbucks on top of a thick notebook. He sat up, not realizing he was holding his breath, or that his heart had skipped a little. He watched her fumble with the keys and the coffee tilt precariously to the side before she righted the notebook. She glanced back, seemingly right at him, before disappearing through the glass door and he saw interior lighting spill into the fading dark of morning through the huge glass window.

He watched her through the window for a while and then slipped from the car, shoving his fingers into his pockets and crossed the narrow street. He gave the door a gentle push, she hadn't locked it, though it was well before office hours and he saw her look up from the notebook she'd carried in. Recognition dawned and her eyes widened before she stood fully, and nervously toyed with the pen she was holding. He offered a smug smirk before letting the door swing shut behind him. He walked a few steps toward her, hands shoved deep into his pockets and paused, waiting for her to get the wrong impression. He smiled in spite of himself when she backed away a bit, and paused as well. "Don't flatter yer self sweetheart. I'm here about business." He leaned on the tall counter, glancing around, noting the smell of sugar hanging in the air.

She stiffened then visibly relaxed and stepped back to the counter. He frowned, not the response he was hoping for from her. He wanted to see disappointment, longing and a little tinge of humiliation in her expression. Instead he watched as she reached below the counter and grabbed a hand full of forms and a menu, and slid them across to him. "I'm sorry, I had forgotten you said might need a cater for your events. Lucky you caught someone here, no one usually is, unless scheduled." She began unfolding the menu for him and arranging the forms.

Once again, he couldn't help noticing her 'not' noticing him. Perhaps she really was an Ice Queen. She turned the forms a bit, so that she could point out their services and he caught a glimpse of lacy top of her dark red bra. For a moment he smirked and thought she must have worn that just for him, then he realized that she couldn't have. She didn't know he was coming. This still did nothing to stop his cock from slightly stiffening in his pants as he stared at that small ridge of reddish black lace. He caught a whiff of her perfume and suddenly had the urge to touch her hand and gave in to it. "Lydia.." he said in a voice so low it might have been a whisper. "..are we ever going to talk about what happened?"

She looked down at her hand, the one he was holding and blinked. She opened her mouth to speak when the door chimes announced yet another early morning visitor. She jerked her hand free of his and shot him a pained look before darting around the counter and slipping into the embrace the newly entered man. "Hey! Told you I'd be here long before you were." She said and pressed herself against him in greeting. Matt's jaw tightened as he looked on, his fists clenching in their pockets. He forced a smile as he watched the two of them. The man resembled him a bit, though a few inches shorter. Maybe that's why she wasn't interested. She already had her little something on the side. He felt like a fool standing there. The two of them made pleasantries as she finally disappeared into the kitchen.

Matt turned to look at the man, quietly sizing him up. "So..you're Lydia's..." he said, turning to fully face the man. The little voice in his head kept screaming that he was acting irrationally. Lydia was no one to him, what business of his was it who she was fucking? He had the temp and any other women he wanted. Fuck Lydia! Still he pressed on, " Husband?" he asked, full well knowing it wasn't.

"Oh! No, I'm an old friend of hers. Get my catering done at half price since I know her so well. Helps to have a hook up. " the man chuckled knowingly, and gave Matt a rather cheesy thumbs up.

"Friend eh?" Matt said pointedly, his eyes going a steely blue as he narrowed his gaze. He hoped it was very clear what he was implying.

Confusion rippled across the man's face as he began to frown, definitely getting the meaning behind Matt's comment. He started to speak, when Lydia re-appeared with two large boxes. Both men sprang forward, trying to wrest the boxes from her. "Oh! Thanks guys! Matt, we've got them, let me walk him out and I'll be right back to help you, 'kay?" she didn't wait for him to answer and followed the man out to his car. He watched them through the window, speaking in a rather animated fashion and glancing back at him once or twice before she gave the man a chaste kiss on the cheek.

She stepped back inside and turned, locking the door before turning back to him. "You wanted to talk?" She folded her arms and leaned against the door.

He stood looking at her for a moment, before quietly speaking, "Come over here."

She immediately dropped her arms and took a tentative step toward him, "Why?"

He watched her, but said nothing, waiting for her to move within arms' length. Once she was, he reached out grabbing both shoulders and pulled her to him. His mind screamed that he should stop, why was he doing this, but he felt completely out of control. He could only think of pressing his lips to hers. So he did, but noticed it was completely different from last time. It wasn't all lust, there was something deeper that he wouldn't allow himself to fully think about. He slid one arm down, looping it around her waist, while the other hand gripped her hair. He hovered close to her lips, "Because we need to talk," he responded. He kissed her gently, just tasting her lips, before looking into her eyes. "I'm sorry about before."

She looked up at him, her hands resting against his chest, but not resisting, "So you do it again? How are you sorry?"

"I didn't say what I was sorry for, yet." He punctuated his sentence with another lingering kiss. "I'm sorry I was too fast before." He pressed her back against the counter, and kissed her fully, and stopped again to look in the hazy brown eyes.

"Matt, you can't do this here, please-"

He kissed her into silence, hearing and unmistakable soft moan that followed, and felt her hands clench at his shirt. His cock throbbed in his pants, demanding to have what it wanted, what he wanted. Breaking the kiss he looked down at her, her own gaze frosty brown, "Why are you denying what you want? You want me to touch you, you want me to kiss you,...", he kissed her again, "To fuck you. Why deny it?"

Her eyes widened a bit at that last and she finally wriggled free of his embrace. She stepped around the counter, brushing nervously at her hair but he could see her composure seeping back into her demeanor. She looked up at him, her eyes afire with an emotion he couldn't quite place. "We need to get this done. I have a ton of things to do and my mother in law is due in shortly to make some canapés so..." She smoothed her hair again and pushed the forms at him from across the counter. "Excuse me." She added curtly and stepped through the door in the back.

He gritted his teeth, stifling a low growl. He picked up the pen and began filling out the forms. He left them there on the counter, before she came back. He drove to his office and sat in the parking lot looking down at the aching tightness in his pants. The hard on refused to die, even though he was furious. What the hell was wrong with her?! Why was she so resistant to him?! He gritted his teeth again, slamming his hand against the steering wheel when his cell phone rang. Aha, she was calling him. He smirked "Hello there darlin'," he purred into the phone.

"Hello Sir, I see you sitting there in your car and you look upset. Anything I can do to help?" the temp piped up in her girlish voice.

It wasn't Lydia, damn! He searched the immediate area and found the temp standing a few feet away from the car. He hadn't even noticed her there, he was so consumed with rage and lust. "Yes, you can help, come 'ere." He motioned to her, and hung up, dropping the phone in his pocket. The girl slid into the passenger seat, her smile widening when she saw his fully erect cock. He didn't wait for her to say more, merely grabbed a hand full of her hair, pressing her lips against the tip. She didn't resist, only moaned. This pissed him off more. She may resemble Lydia but she certainly didn't sound like her. As the girl went above and beyond her job description, he pictured Lydia's face. He could still taste her on his lips, could still smell her. He moaned as his cock throbbed in the girls mouth. His cell phone rang and he reached into his pocket to silence it, his hips beginning to move of their own accord as he fucked the girls mouth. Oh she was good, but not who he wanted. He wanted "Lydia.." he murmured.

The girl lifted her head, "I'm sorry Sir, what did you say?"

He pushed her head down, again as he felt the familiar tingle in his balls. He was about to cum. He hissed as the pressure intensified. "Oh god Lydia!" he moaned as he came, still clenching the girls hair. He released the vice grip on the girls hair and leaned across her lap to the glove compartment for the wipes he kept there. She sat up, wiping at her mouth and smiling. He took a moment to really look at her, she was a pretty young thing, couldn't have been more than 23. If he were younger....

"Sir, my name is not Lydia, who is Lydia? Your wife?" She took the wipe he was offering and cleaned off her gorgeous full lips. She reapplied her lipstick and glanced at him, waiting for an answer.

Matt, opened the car door and stepped out into the cool morning hair. He had no intentions of answering her. Leaning into the car, he grabbed his bag, "Hurry up, we have a lot to do today." He stood up closing the door and peering over the car. His cock was stiffening again, his mind stuck on setting, Lydia. He waited for the girl to get out before setting the alarm and heading toward the elevators. The girl began chattering animatedly as they stepped through the doors. She brushed her tits against him suggestively a few times and he knew that by lunch he'd have her bent over his desk as he'd done so many days since she'd come to work there and since he couldn't get Lydia out of his head.

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She sat staring at the screen of the computer, the smell of freshly baking sweet things making her mouth water. Her mother in law had showed up not moments after Matt's car left the parking lot across the street. She closed the window to Literotica.com sighing wistfully. She loved reading one particular author there and though the stories were excellent, she had to laugh at the obstacles that kept the characters apart. Much like real life, young people always thought there were insurmountable obstacles keeping them apart, when it was nothing but air that stood between them. Try having a husband children, she always wanted to yell at them.

If she had it do over, she'd have chosen at least half a dozen different men to marry. If she'd managed to meet Matt before, she would have even considered being his Mrs, but fate is a cruel Mistress. The truth is, much like a line from her favorite Mary J. Blige song, "When you think you're in love, you only see what you wanna see, " she'd seen what she wanted to see with her husband in the beginning.

She was the only one really in love, is what occurred to her once looking back on her marriage. But when Matt touched her, she felt things she couldn't explain. She felt all those things she'd read about and she was scared to death. There was no way she could feel this way about someone she barely knew and even worse, it was feeling this way about someone she could never have. For good or for bad she was married. Married women with children had to be sensible, which really just equaled being unhappy and hating yourself and your life for the sake of the children. How long could she do this? How long could she be on auto-pilot? Her mind flashed back to his touch, the way he smelled, the way his lips felt against hers and she sat starring dazed at the wall. What if she never felt this again? She stood up, not allowing herself to really think about what she was about to do. She grabbed her purse fishing out Matt's business card and dialed his number, heading for the door. She wouldn't spend her life unhappy, maybe Matt is just what she needed to help make life a little more bearable. She heard his voice thick with his Irish drawl fill her ear, announcing that he was unavailable and to leave a message. She hung up as she slid behind the wheel of her car. She'd have this talk with him face to face.

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He placed his hand squarely in the middle of her back, pushing her down onto his desk. He closed his eyes, biting down on his lip as he slipped into her tight wetness. She moaned softly, reaching back to grab his arm and he immediately stopped. "Did I tell you that you could touch me?"

"No Sir." She said and lay back down, resting her hands on the files she'd carried in moments ago.

There were definitely perks to being the boss, one of them being that no one questioned why he and his assistant weren't present at the division luncheon in the conference room downstairs. He'd been unable to focus on anything resembling work since he'd gotten to the office and had decided to make use of his assistant as soon as the rest of the office took off for the catered lunch. The blow job she'd given him in the car only served to inflame his lust for Lydia and he couldn't wait to fuck the young girl to ease the severe case of blue balls he was developing. He eased in and out of her, knowing his length and girth were a bit much for quite a few women to handle and he never was the pound women type. It was so much more fun to feel their pussy gripping him, begging for it harder and him not giving it to them. They seemed to cum extra hard from the tease. He closed his eyes, once again his mind turning to Lydia. He put his hands on the girls hips, pulling her toward him, burying his entire shaft to the hilt. She wiggled a bit uncomfortably but he held her there, "Shhhhh....stop fucking moving." He whispered to her, as she gasped a little loudly. He glanced at the clock on the wall, knowing it would be a good while before they began straggling back in from lunch. He'd even told a few that if they wanted they could take the rest of the afternoon off, as he knew it would take him a while to slake his lust. He'd fuck this girl until she was raw if he had to, so he wouldn't think about.... He paused mid thought, mid stroke, he thought he heard someone calling his name.

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She nodded at the small blonde woman who pointed her toward the elevators. "His office is on the 6th floor. Just head down the hall and to right and you'll see his office. His assistant should be able to help you from there".

She tucked her purse under her arm and headed nervously toward the elevator. She began talking to herself, practicing what she would say to him. How would she explain why she was there? "Just...tell him you think he's hot, Lydia...just say it. What's the big deal? No, big deal." She answered her own question as the doors slid open.

She headed down the hall and found his office. It was one of those offices with a huge window behind his assistant's desk. No doubt so he could peer out at her and make sure she was doing her job. The shades to this window were drawn and she glanced around trying to find his assistant. Perhaps she'd stepped away to the bathroom, "Hello? Matt?" she said and then stepped up this his door gathering the reins of her courage. She knocked softly and turned the handle peering into his office.

She stopped cold, seeing the tiny black girl quickly yanking down her skirt, "Oh! I'm so sorry, I was looking-" the words died in her throat when she saw him there. He turned away from her, quickly righting his clothes, but not before she could see the deep red coloring of his face. Her hand rose to her chest as she backed out of the room, but not before being nudged aside by his assistant as she hurried from the office. She smiled at Lydia as she passed, clearly headed to the bathroom when the phone rang. The girl yanked the phone from it's resting place and announce her name "This is-" and then pause.

The door frame was suddenly filled with Matt's tall lithe form. His eyes looked wide and apologetic as he moved toward her, "Lydia, I-"

"Lydia?!" the assistant, who had just cradled the phone turned to look at her wide eyed. She was connecting the dots. The both of them looked at Matt as she phone rang again, it's angry buzz punctuating the silence. The girl turned and picked up the phone again and then looked to Matt nodding, "Yes ma'am he's right here." She mouthed the words 'It's your wife' to him.

Matt tossed a tortured glance at Lydia before telling the girl to put his wife on speaker "Yeah honey, it's not a good time, what's up"

"Not a good time? What..too busy fucking Lydia to talk to me? Who the fuck is Lydia?" her voice sounded shrill and angry.

Matt frowned, avoiding Lydia's gaze "What are you talking about?! Lydia is the caterer you wanted me to hire!"

Suddenly the area was filled with his voice emanating from the phone speaker. Him moaning, Lydia's name earlier during his 'blow job'.

Lydia's eyes widened as she looked at him and then she looked to his assistant connecting her own dots. The girl smirked back at her and folded her arms smugly. She turned deftly on her heel and left, ignoring the sounds behind her. How could she have been so stupid as to think she could do something like this with him? He was a womanizer and she would have been just another woman. She couldn't bear to be that to anyone else. Just another woman.

She refused to look back as she left, she didn't ever want to see Matt again. But ever turned out to be only a year.