On the first day at my new job my boss walked around with me and introduced me to all of my new teammates. Most of the names I immediately forgot, but one woman caught my attention almost immediately. Dishwater blonde, wonderful curves accented by tight jeans and tall Mary Jane heels, Melissa immediately made an impression. With great care to not ogle I returned her hello and continued making the rounds. When I sat down in my cubicle I noticed that I had an unobstructed view down the aisle, a perfect vantage to see the comings and goings of my fellow coworkers.
Of course, the only person whom I actively enjoyed watching was Melissa. I'd watch her walk toward me, taking stock of her outfit, admiring her body and the way her clothing accentuated her features. Often her blouses featured her breasts, always work appropriate, but leaving no doubt that she was excellently endowed. She favored jeans, usually tight, with her waist flowing into the curve of her hips. And she almost always wore heels, often barefoot, but sometimes with nylons. Her Mary Janes were a perennial favorite, but it was obvious she had a bit of a shoe addiction, as just as often she would wear a different pair each day of the week.
Sitting in my cubicle I'd watch this beautiful woman walk toward me, always stopping to say "Hi!", asking me about my day, then moving along to her business, eventually heading back to her desk. This was always my favorite part. Melissa had an ass to die for. Swaying with each step, framed by her jeans or, if I was lucky, a tight skirt. I'd sit at my desk and lose myself completely, just enjoying everything about her.
Of course, she was married. So was I. But that didn't stop her from becoming a staple in my fantasy life. At night, after my wife was asleep, I'd lay awake and think about Melissa. I'd imagine pulling her in for a kiss, our bodies together. As I lay there, my erection springing to life, I'd slowly stroke myself, imagining her hand, touching me, her breasts pushed against me, her skirt hiked up as she straddled my cock, rocking back and forth, heels bumping my calves. My hand would move faster on my cock as I thought about her orgasm building, her blue eyes staring into mine, until we would both explode together. Almost nightly I'd make a mess of my shorts thinking of Melissa, my fantasy lover who quickly became the sole woman of my self pleasures. I'd role over with a wet spot in my boxers and fall asleep looking forward to visiting her in my dreams.
This went on for a few years. Our friendship grew, always appropriate, but blossoming as our jobs required we spend time together almost every day.
During this time my marriage began to crumble. I'm sure my secret fantasy life didn't help things, but admittedly we had different goals. She wanted kids, I didn't, resentments grew, we eventually split and divorced. Around this time Melissa confided that she was in a similar situation in her marriage.
One night, at home while washing dishes, my phone dinged with a text message. Picking it up my heart skipped a bit as I saw it was from Melissa. "How are you?" she asked. Knowing she had gone out with a few coworkers that evening I answered "Fine. Bored. How are YOU doing?" Winky sign. I was sure she was feeling pretty good from her outing.
"Tipsy" she replied. "And maybe a little horny."
Suddenly, this was interesting...
"Oh?" I said.
"What would you do if you were here?" she replied.
