Matt has the looks to die for. He also has an attitude that compells you to help him die.
When I interviewed Matt for a Network Support position, I was impressed with his technical knowledge. I was also impressed by his broad shoulders, muscular arms, and the tightest little ass I've ever seen on a man. His blonde, almost red hair was cut short. Forget beer belly, unless you're referring to the six-pack abs that I was sure had to be under his shirt. It made me wonder if he was equally well built behind his zipper.
The first week Matt worked for me, he was the perfect gentleman. I easily fell head over heals in raw lust with the man. The second week, he started paying me complements. At first I was flattered. Not that I would cheat on my husband. But a woman can fantasize, can't she? A month later, when he told me that my dress would look better on the floor next to 'our' bed, I was beginning to get leery.
I didn't need to wonder if he was well built behind his zipper. He informed me that I would just love having his giant manhood plunged into my hungry pussy. Three months after I hired him, my pussy wasn't hungry for any part of him.
It wasn't just me that Matt flirted with. Once when he came into the cafeteria, he didn't see me. (Otherwise he would have sat with me.) He asked Joan if she would like to have him for lunch, then sat down at her table. I could hear him go on and on about how great he was and that the next day she should go to a motel with him for lunch. The next day, Joan made a point to sit with me.
Finally, this god's gift to women couldn't get any worse. But that's only because he was at the bottom of the barrel as it was. My name was no longer 'Jenny'. It was 'Boss Lady' if there were other people around and 'Sexpot' if there weren't. He continued to flirt with almost any woman that was around, but he definitely saved his worse for me. Including the time in his first personnel review that he offered have sex with me, if would I give him a raise bigger than the one in his pants.
In his defense, I suppose I didn't handle things very well in the beginning. The first time he brushed me on the ass, I didn't say anything. Maybe it was accidental. Once when we were working on a file server, I was concentrating on getting a very small screw in. I didn't say anything when his hand rested on my ass. It was hard concentrating on screwing with a screwdriver when I kept thinking of screwing Matt. At the time, I was still thinking about how comfortable it would be to cuddle up in his arms.
But suffice it to say, Matt is a jerk. A very good-looking jerk, but he's still a jerk.
Eventually, I told him that if he didn't keep his thoughts out of my panties, he could think about my panties all he wanted in the unemployment line. It was a year later during another personnel review and I also mentioned that he would have gotten a better raise if it hadn't been for his actions towards me. He backed off a lot after that, even though he still slips and lets it be known that I would thoroughly enjoy being his sex slave. There was a time that I had dreamt up a completely different solution.
(.)(.)
Matt had gotten a DWI and had his license suspended. I had been there, done that myself, so I could understand his problem. A friend of his was able to give him an early ride into work. I ended up giving him a ride home to his apartment. Every night, it was the same old thing when we got there.
"Would you like to come up for coffee, or a beer, or sex?" Matt would ask me.
To which I would reply, "No, no, and no. I'm married, remember?" I realize now that all that told him was that I wouldn't because I was married, but really did want to fuck him. It was false, but only because of his attitude.
Then one day, according to the fantasy, I was giving him a ride and said, "Oh, shit!"
"What's wrong?" Matt asked me.
"I forgot to give you the spreadsheet for the budget. I meant to give them to you this morning, but with all the brush fires to put out, I forgot. I need your input on what servers we should upgrade the next fiscal year. I have to have the rough figures turned into Mrs. Cranstand tomorrow."
"We can go back, get it, and I'll work on it at home," Matt told me. One of the reasons I couldn't just fire Matt outright was his devotion to his job, his ability to fix almost any problem. As his manager, he made me look good.
"No..." I paused. We were already three quarters of the way to his apartment and I didn't feel like fighting traffic back to the office then back to his apartment. "I tell you what. You can finally give me that beer you keep asking about. I have the spreadsheet on my laptop. I'll just copy it to diskette when we get to your apartment."
"Good, I don't drink coffee anyway. But you're still welcome to have sex with me, Sexpot." Matt smiled at me. I wasn't sure if he was happy I was actually going to be in his apartment or if he actually thought I would have sex with him.
"Fat chance, Pervert."
"Okay, how about a blowjob? Can I at least get a blowjob from those beautiful lips?"
I let out an exasperated sigh. "After I leave, you can whip it out and pretend anything you want, Jackoff." I looked to the right, checking traffic at an intersection. Glancing down, Matt had started to tent the front of his slacks. He was definitely thinking of slipping his cock between my lips, either pair.
We spent the next fifteen minutes of the commute in silence. Finally, we reached our destination. Matt's apartment complex had a number of town houses, large apartments, and studio apartments. Matt lived in one of the studio apartments in the back of the complex. I parked the SUV near his apartment and grabbed my purse and laptop case. Matt, being a gentleman again, offered to carry the laptop. He led me up an outdoor staircase to the patio of his apartment. Unlocking the door, he let me in.
A bachelor with a decent paying job, Matt's apartment was sparsely furnished with the best furniture. The living room had a large screen TV that was almost too big for the room, two recliners with real leather, a sound system with more components than I would ever be able to figure out. Another desk as neat as his desk at work had his home PC on it. The carpet was white and thick piled. The only sign of bachelor life was the empty pizza box and single can of beer on the small table between the recliners. Otherwise, Matt's apartment was as neat as he kept his desk.
