Cami was a lead worker who usually came in on Saturdays. I did so myself from time to time, either because I needed a weekday off or because the data I'd be tasked with entering needed to be in by a certain day. I'd even done it before to make up for a sick day, but I'd been told a few weeks earlier that we would not be allowed to do so going forward.
"That would be great," I grinned, resisting rubbing his bare forearm. "But I thought we weren't supposed to do that anymore."
"I can make case-by-case exceptions," Karl shrugged.
"Thank you. I appreciate it," I told him, wondering if there was something he wanted in exchange, wondering whether he might have picked up on the odd attraction I'd felt toward him the day before. But all he did was flash that goofy smile, give me a thumbs up, and walk away. If he wanted anything in return, he was not communicating that to me.
My first response was relief, but then a few millipedes came out to play, and I found myself pondering why he didn't want anything in return. My rational brain tried to tell me it was because he was my boss and had a girlfriend I knew he was serious about, but my anxiety cast it in terms of there being something wrong with me that made him not find me attractive. And that frightened me, because of all the things I'd been anxious about over the years, being unattractive to guys hadn't been one of them.
Sure, I was well aware that I was not every guy's type. But I'd never worried that a particular guy might not want to fool around with me. They either did or they didn't, and it never impacted me one way or the other except for trying to pick the right guys. But here I was sitting at work anxious because my bass hadn't tried to exchange a favor for sex.
"Mark, you fucked me up even more than I was," I whispered to the universe, longing to be home with my tequila.
***
I didn't get sloppy drunk on Thursday night, but I was far from sober when I went to bed. Well, went to bed is the wrong way of putting it. I passed out watching a movie and didn't wake until my bladder nearly burst a little after 3:00 am. After taking a much needed piss, I made myself drink a glass of water before I went back to sleep. And when I stumbled into my shower three and a half hours later, I was only a little hung over.
Pounding iced coffee was the only way I made it through Friday morning, but I knew by lunch that the caffeine from the morning had conspired with the alcohol from the night before to leave me dehydrated with a splitting headache. I considered asking Karl if I could go home for a few hours and come back in the evening to finish my shift, but he'd been so nice the day before when he told me I could come in on Saturday to make up some of I missed time that I didn't want to push my luck. Plus, I was worried that he might say 'yes' and not want anything in return, and in my state, I was sure I'd start obsessing on why he didn't seem to want to coerce me into sex.
So, I toughed out the afternoon, with the help of ibuprofen and plenty of water. When 5:00 pm came, I headed home. But instead of going there, I went for pizza. And while I ate, I thought about texting Sheri. I knew she was working, but I needed to talk to someone, and more importantly, fuck someone who was into me.
I had no doubt I could find a willing guy, but I didn't want just any guy. I wanted someone to make me feel like I was the first choice, not just a willing mouth and pussy. Sheri would do that if she were free. And Mark would've when we were together, even though he had his other slut too. But Sheri was busy, and I knew I'd never fuck Mark again. That left Colton, my pussy of a next-door neighbor.
You aren't being fair to him, I chastised myself. He's a nice, caring guy.
Yeah, one who doesn't know how to fuck without directions, another part of me responded, the fucked-up slut part, which was really most of me.
The fucked-up slut won, in a sense. She very much would've liked to fuck, but Colton wasn't what she needed. And since the rest of me was unwilling to find some rando guy, I took what was left of my pizza to go and went home. I didn't knock on Colton's door when I got there. I went right into my apartment, put the pizza in the fridge, and pulled down a bottle of tequila. But despite the allure of the amber liquid, I didn't drink any of it. I just stared at it as my thoughts churned.
After several minutes, I made up my mind. If I wasn't going to get laid, I needed to take my anti-anxiety medicine. The alcohol would help me relax and keep the brain bugs at bay, but it wouldn't help my horniness at all. In fact, it'd make it worse. The medicine, on the other hand, tended to suppress my sex drive, and that was what I needed.
I took the pills with a glass of water, then settled onto my bed to watch TV. I must've been more tired than I thought, however, because I didn't even make it through one show before falling asleep.
***
When my alarm woke me Saturday morning, I was amazed that I'd slept over nine hours without waking up once. I didn't even remember having any dreams. I knew part of that was the medicine, but I was sure part was the lack of alcohol the day before.
When I looked at my phone, I saw Sheri had texted me several times the night before. The texts mainly gave me details about where and when we would get together for the night's fun. She wanted to meet at the club at 8:30, and she suggested we both Uber it there so neither of us would have to leave our car.
"Can't w8t," I texted her, along with a devil emoji.
"Yep same," she replied. "Gettin ready 4 my AM shift."
"Me 2."
She didn't respond, and I didn't expect her to as she'd said she was getting ready. Besides, I had to do that myself. Not that it was that big a deal on Saturdays. I threw on jeans and an oversized sweatshirt and a pair of flats. And after applying minimal makeup, I put my hair in a ponytail. After all, the only other person at work would be Cami, and she'd be dressed like me.
Once I got to work, Cami and I exchanged "hellos" before going to our respective cubicles. We were always pleasant to each other, but we were not friendly. Cami was a couple of years older than me and a lead worker. She was also a bit overweight with mousy brown, shoulder length hair, and a bad case of resting bitch face. The best thing I could say about her was that I knew she'd leave me alone.
In addition to not having to deal with other people, one of the nice things about Saturdays was I could put in my earbuds and crank the music. On regular days, we were allowed to listen to music through headphones or earbuds, but it couldn't be so loud that we weren't able to hear if someone came to talk to us. But on evenings and the weekend, no one cared.
Around 10:00 am, a text popped up on my phone. When I saw the name and number, I felt my stomach try its best to drop out of my body. Hands trembling, I picked up the phone and read the text from Mark.
"Hey, Jessi. I just wanted to see how you are doing."
I licked my suddenly parched lips, which stood in contrast to my clammy skin. I couldn't believe that he'd texted me. After everything we'd said, after what he'd done choosing her, he'd texted me. But that was not the worst of the situation. The worst was that a warm wetness had started soaking my panties the moment I saw his name.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck...
a billion millipedes chanted as they invaded my previously calm mind.
Texting him back would be a mistake. I was certain of that. But it was what I wanted to do. Employing what I believed was considerable personal restraint, I put my phone face down on my desk and went back to work. Of course, I made many mistakes over the next hour, but I was slowly able to push my thoughts of Mark to the background. And I kept it up until lunchtime, when I turned over my phone and saw he had texted again, the message almost exactly the same.
"I need a fucking drink," I whispered to no one while I stared at the phone.
For a few seconds, I considered running out for lunch and getting an airplane size bottle of tequila. I was sure Cami would neither notice nor care. But in the end, my more rational mind won, and I stayed in and ate the pizza I'd brought from home, drinking nothing but water.
***
I received two more texts from Mark while I was at work, one around 2:00 pm and one a little after 4:00 pm. By that time, I handled them better, at least in terms of my immediate response to each text. But I knew from my greatly reduced productivity that their impact on me couldn't be denied. And after struggling through those last few hours at work, it was with considerable relief that I said goodbye to Cami and headed home.
Once there, I fixed a sandwich for dinner. And I didn't drink anything but water since I knew I would be having plenty to drink later at the club. I didn't take my medicine either, however, so it was difficult to keep the Mark millipedes from stomping across every other thought I had. Hoping for some relief from my thoughts, I tried to distract myself by watching TV. It didn't really work. A little before 7:00 pm, a text from Sheri came in, and that did the trick.
"Headed home 2 get ready. U thinkin about 2 guys 2 share? I know I am."
As if by magic, my swarming thoughts about my ex were subsumed in wickedly vivid fantasies of what it might be like to have a cock in my pussy and my mouth at the same time. Yeah, he was still in my mind, a disapproving figure warning me not to go through with what I hoped would happen later. But his voice had almost no impact on me.
Going to my closet, I pulled out the short, form-fitting black dress I'd bought for a date with Mark before I'd decided on a more elegantly sexy dress. But I'd modeled the black slutty one for him later that night. I'd worn a padded push-up bra then to give me much more cleavage than I'd normally have, but I decided against that for this occasion. The dress had spaghetti straps and the pushup bra was white, so its straps would have been quite obvious. More importantly, I did not want to sell anything I couldn't back up. So instead, I opted for no bra.
