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.
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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.
