I thought the day would never end. There's nothing worse than a Valentine's Day at the office when you're the only single one in the place! An endless stream of flower deliveries, boxes of chocolates in various stages of being picked over, conversations in the elevator or the ladies room about whether tonight would be the night he would 'pop the question'. And I must admit, if I were involved with someone, I'd be enjoying the day just as much as the rest of them. But as it was, I found it sickening.
See, I'd been in a bit of a dry spell. After an ugly breakup about a year ago followed by a hot but ultimately unsuccessful rebound relationship, it had been at least six months since I'd had a date, or, well, let's just be blunt, since I'd gotten laid. And I was just coming to terms with that being OK, when the calendar turned to February, and before I knew it, here I was, suffering through Valentine's Day still alone, my giddy coworkers unwittingly rubbing my nose in their sea of red heart-shaped boxes, ribbons, and flower petals.
That morning as I'd gotten dressed for work, I tried to cheer myself up by putting on my sexiest matching red bra and panties. As I studied my form in the mirror, I couldn't help but admire how hot I looked. My fingers traced the edge of the red lace which cupped my large breasts - 36D on my otherwise slim, 5'8" frame. Naughty, I thought to myself as my hands continued their path downward, pausing to lightly stroke my clit through the lacy fabric of my panties. "Gee, Karen," I thought to myself with a chuckle, "just go to work."
And so my hot undergarments were promptly covered by my attractive, but conservatively professional work clothes - a white blouse and black skirt, with a colorful scarf around my shoulders, and sensibly low-heeled black pumps. I had a big presentation to give the next day, so hopefully my preparations for that would keep me busy and distracted. No such luck.
Try as I might to concentrate on my work, I wasn't lucky enough to have an office with a door, so was forced to sit in my cubicle in the middle of the office and hear every sappy phone call - "No, you hang up first!" - every flower delivery - "Is there a Pam Johnson? These are for you!" - and every comment on delicious chocolates from thoughtful boyfriends - "Ooh, have you tried this one? It's simply divine!"
So, back to where I started - I thought the day would never end. When it finally did, I dejectedly headed home, planning my evening as I drove. First, I'd stop at the video store, where I'd see what appealed to me for solitary viewing - would I give in and rent a romantic comedy, ending up a pitiful mess of tears and tissues? Or would I rent some horrible monster movie, and pretend it was Halloween rather than Valentine's Day? Either way, my next stop would be the grocery store, for a pint of ice cream.
Finding nothing that caught my fancy in either the romantic comedies or the horror flicks, I found myself in the documentary film aisle. Next to a very attractive man who I admit I deliberately bumped into. Not the smoothest move, I know, but it worked. I got his attention and we struck up a conversation. Just as he was telling me that his name was John and asking mine, I noticed his wedding ring. I had to laugh at my desperation as I realized that I was trying to pick up a married guy in the video store on Valentine's Day.
But before I had a chance to pull myself away and go home to wallow in self-pity, I realized that he was flirting with me. It had been a while, and I was a little rusty, but it was unmistakable. He was keeping the conversation going, he was glancing towards my bosom when he thought I wasn't looking, and he seemed not to care that he was doing this with his wedding ring on. I decided to play along, and before I knew it, we were leaving our videos behind and making our way to a restaurant down the street to have a drink.
As we started to chat over our glasses of wine, I learned that John was in town on business, just for the one night. He owned his own company, which had been doing quite well, but he found himself traveling more than he liked - when he had the opportunity to land a new client, even if it did mean being away from home on Valentine's Day, he couldn't turn it down. He did tell me more about his company, but frankly I can't remember much, as I was busy pretending to pay attention while I actually studied his body.
He was a bit older than I - I guessed 40-ish to my 30 - but in fabulous shape, as if he spent all his free time working out. He was about 6'2", with big strong hands (always a turn-on for me), wavy brown hair and deep brown eyes, and a chiseled jaw with a five-o-clock shadow.
Moving on to our second glass of wine, I realized he noticed my eyes on his body, and as I crossed and then re-crossed my legs on the barstool, my business skirt riding up higher and higher on my thigh, I knew he was checking me out as well. I kept listening to the little voice in my head, though, the one telling me not to make a move on a married guy. Somehow, the voice didn't say anything about responding if he acted first. Which he did.
At first, I thought he was starting to say that perhaps we should call it a night and go our separate ways. But no, he was suggesting we make a night of it, together.
"Karen, I really don't want to be alone tonight. And you're so incredibly hot, I haven't been able to think of anything but fucking you since we started talking. Would you like to come back to my hotel with me? No strings, since I'm leaving town in the morning - but tonight, I want you. That is, if you feel the same way..."
I just smiled, took his hand, and guided it up my inner thigh to my panties, letting the wetness between my legs speak for itself as my response. He gave me the name of his hotel and the room number, and we headed off, for the moment, going in separate directions. He would get a cab, and I would drive my car there, we had agreed. I'd give him a head start, and he'd leave the door to his room unlocked.
