These events occurred midsummer a couple years ago. There was always a sense of tragedy about them, although nothing particularly sad happened. No one got sick, no one died, and no one experienced much heartache. Well, maybe a bit of the latter.
This story is 100% true, for what it's worth. All characters are above 18, ect, ect, ect.
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I had just been fired from my job of several years. I would later receive a diagnosis for bipolar disorder, but I had no idea of it at the time. I had even been arrested at one point, during an absolute blackout drunken episode. All I knew was that some days I was fine, and others I was very "off". My interpersonal relationships with my co-workers were completely in shambles thanks to my mood swings, and this eventually lead to me being let go. Despite having a lot of experience and proficiency in my field.
I also had the poor judgement to have a one night fling involving a co-worker who was engaged, after a bar crawl with work people. We'll call her "Amanda". We'd flirted half the night. I overheard her making excuses to her fiancé on the phone, and glancing down the table at me the whole time. I spent the night working the crowd. I was "on" that night, and a little manic. Most of our co-workers eventually left, except for me and Amanda, of course. We found ourselves sitting on the curb of the bar parking lot. I started to give her a bit of drunken self-pity I was working through at the time. Which was strange, because I'd always been a happy drunk, usually. I shared a cigarette with her, although she didn't smoke. She interrupted me mid-sentence, and unexpectedly said "I think I LOVE you!" I tried telling her that she had terrible taste in men if that was the case. And then we kissed.
She agreed to drive me home, since she was slightly more sober than I was. After we got to my place, I remember sitting in her car, making out, my hand down her shirt. She acted so strangely - she would physically push me away and even pinch me, and then I would sit back, waiting. She'd then bite her lower lip, make a noise that I can only describe as a girly growl and pull my shirt to bring me in closer again. I pulled her bra down and had my mouth on her breasts. God, that was sweet. She had on a lacy turquois bra that I remember liking. Here's where we get to some of the 100% real parts of the story, so bear with me.
I had some whisky dick, unfortunately, plus a full bladder. I told her I was going to the bathroom, and she said that she would be gone if I went. I went anyway. I knew she was bluffing. I still lived with my ex at the time. When I got in my place, my ex, Jenny, was sitting on my bed, sprawled out and watching TV, looking very relaxed and sexy. She said "hi", and said my name in a way that made it very clear what she was down for. I gathered that she had been out drinking too, had come home before me, and was waiting for me. I have to admit, Jenny looked very tempting laying there. My ex was very attractive - she had short, curly brown hair and very pale skin. She was somewhat tall and extremely slender. She wore lots of little tank tops and cardigans. She had freckles all over her back that I would look at all the time when we fucked doggy style. Like a road map. We hadn't been intimate since the breakup a few months before. I have to admit, as sexy as she was, I took a certain savage pleasure in saying "hey, what's up?" and breezing past her to take a piss. Then leaving to go downstairs to the street to make out with my hot co-worker, Amanda. I guess I hadn't fully gotten over the break up yet.
I went down to the street, and of course Amanda was still there, as I knew she would be. I got in the car, and she immediately straddled me. We made out some more. I sucked her glorious tits and unzipped her jeans. Her breasts were great - the kind of breasts that didn't call too much attention when she was in her regular work clothes, but were absolutely perfect up close and in person. Perfectly pale and perky, with soft nipples two shades lighter than the eraser on a pencil. I started fingering her and continued sucking on her tits as she straddled me. After a couple of minutes, she stopped, looked me straight in the eye and said "invite me up to your place." She said my fingers felt good. She had brown eyes just a few shades lighter than her dark brown hair. I saw no hesitation there, and she never blinked. I explained to her that this wasn't possible, as I still lived with my ex and she was home. I urged her to find us a dark street where we could continue - we had been making out directly under a street light, and it's probable that someone passing by had gotten a bit of a show. Her expression curdled, and she refused. We kissed a few more times, and she said that she had to go. I got out of the car and left her crying as she pulled away. I didn't envy her the task of explaining to her fiancé why she was hours late. I can only imagine what we would've gotten up to if my ex had not been home that night.
Needless to say, this caused drama at work. I got very drunk a couple of times and talked about the tryst with some co-workers. This turned out to be a very bad idea. Word got around. I drunkenly texted Amanda one night, and she accused me of harassment. Probably to get me out of the way, as I'm sure it was embarrassing for her to have to work with me after that. The harassment accusation was the final straw for my job, and I was officially let go.
Fast forward a few weeks - My ex had moved out. My - (our?) apartment had two whole barren rooms where her stuff used to be, and after I got fired I would sit on the floor and take phone calls from old friends I had worked with. The echoes in the room bounced off of the chipped hardwood floors and smoke stained white walls, which seemed very fitting for those calls.
