Wednesday, October 1, 2008

The Fuck of His Life. Fable J. Hill. ©

Austin was horny. Daniela was just so smoking hot. He’d practically paced right through the carpet trying not to think of her, yet every time he heard her deep, throaty laugh float through his office walls, he wondered if there were any other deep, throaty sounds she was capable of making. He wondered if she was good at deep-throating, then chuckled at his own cleverness. For weeks they’d been exchanging flirty emails back and forth, making significant eye-contact across the table at board meetings, and lingering late in the office under the pretence of work so they’d be the last two in the building. She’d made it no secret that she wanted him, but the end decision was ultimately his, and there was a problem. It wasn’t inner-office politics or the fear of a sexual harassment suit. No, the problem was named Valerie, and she was his wife.

Until now he’d never thought of his wife as a problem. He’d loved her since college, and he loved her now. She was beautiful in the wholesome kind of way that you’d expect a woman who led ‘imagination workshops’ for preschoolers to be. She was a honey-blonde, blue-eyed beauty and anyone would agree that he was nuts to even be thinking about cheating on her. Not only was she perfect, but his life was perfect. He had two perfect twins, Codey and Audrey, who he’d got a kick out of raising and received regular emails and phone calls from since they went away to college. He loved his job in Advertising and was planning on taking a trip around the world with Valerie when he retired—a trip they’d been planning since before they got married. The mortgage was finally paid off, as were their two cars, and the only major setbacks he’d suffered in his life were the deaths of his parents, who had been good to him, and the death of his dog, who he was still mourning. He’d always thought of himself as the luckiest man in the world, and often said that there was nothing else he could possibly want. Enter: Daniela. She wore dramatic eye make-up and had long, luxurious black hair. Her skin was the colour of coffee with cream, and she wore higher heels than Austin had even known existed. She dressed like the free-spirit everybody knew she was. She wore hot-pink, baby-blue, bright orange. She had no specific style—she came to work dressed as a fitness instructor one day, a hippie the next, a salsa dancer the day after that. “Whatever suits the mood,” she’d said when some of her co-workers commented on this. She was kind, but not the way that Valerie was.

Valerie lived by the golden rule. Valerie was soft and sweet. Valerie cried at both funerals and awards shows; made conversation with the homeless and incoherent as well as the rich and fabulous. Valerie was a wonderful mother, a loyal friend, an affectionate wife. Her cooking was to die for, she got uncharacteristically competitive at board games, she loved her country and ran a voting booth every election.

Daniela was not like Valerie. Daniela was not a girl scout. Daniela was not concerned about making people feel comfortable, she was concerned about telling people the truth. This made her fairly unpopular among the women at work, but Austin suspected this was because they didn’t know how to react to her, or--more accurately--wanted to be her. Daniela had lived everywhere, done everything, met everyone. She would not be sitting around years before retirement planning a trip for the 25th year straight—if there was somewhere she wanted to go, she went. She spoke of alligator sightings in Australia, cooking lessons in Sicily, parasailing in the French West Indies, building houses in Guatemala. She was a perpetual student by her own admission (“aren’t we all?” she’d said). She was a thirty-something who’d been in school her whole life, taken classes or internships on just about every continent, and was doing this temp job at the advertising agency (filling in for chubby Moira, who was on maternity leave) only so that she could fund her next adventure--teaching white-water rafting at a survival skills camp for teens in Costa Rica. Daniela was a problem for Austin.

He’d never cheated before, and didn’t want to now, but there was something about her that made his chest ache. When she touched his arm during conversation he felt a surge run through his body. When his email inbox lit up with her name, he got so excited it was almost comical. He loved Valerie, but she hadn’t made him feel this way in a long time. She made him feel taken care of when she had his coffee ready to go every morning and hid little love notes in his wallet, knowing he’d find them sometime throughout the day. She ironed his clothes, cooked his favourite meal once a week, and taped his choice of crime show when he was working late. But it wasn’t only what she did for him. He felt safe when she circled her arms around his mid-section as they fell asleep at night. He loved the way she tucked her hand into his pocket when they went for evening walks, the way she softly blew cool breath on his face when he got razor burn, the way she said “love ya,” at the end of every phone call like an infatuated teenager. His feelings for her were still there, but though he hated to admit it, he realized that the word he would use to describe the way he felt about his wife was fond. He was fond of her. He enjoyed her. But she didn’t give him that crazy feeling he got when he was with Daniela. He didn’t want to devour her, didn’t have a desperate need to know everything about her, to search her for all her secrets, and then take her and make love to her until she was dizzy and breathless and hoarse. He and Val hadn’t had that kind of sex in a long time. The sex they had was pleasant, but he’d had the feeling lately that after the first ten minutes both were just in a hurry to finish up and go to sleep. In the beginning they’d had sex like mad. No place was too inappropriate, no time of day was off-limits, no position was out of the question. They had explored each other thoroughly, and it seemed like maybe there was nothing else to explore. Is this what happens to all marriages? Austin wondered. Still, he knew he couldn’t complain. Even if their marriage was slightly boring now, slightly routine, even if the over-the-top love he’d once felt for his wife had been replaced with fondness, he could do a lot worse. They were happy, and that was more than a lot of people could say after twenty-five years. He might have gone on this way forever if it hadn’t been for Daniela. She had stirred something in him that had lain dormant for a long time, and he had no idea what to do about it. I could quit my job. I could work from home until chubby Moira comes back and Daniela goes off to Costa Rica. Or I could forget about my perfect life and my perfect wife, bring Daniela in here after hours and make her scream until she loses her voice. This last thought made heat spread through his body and his cock stiffen between his legs. He tried to distract himself by thinking about Val, but her face kept being replaced by Daniela’s. He finally surrendered to the full on fantasy, pictured himself taking Daniela into his office and throwing her on the desk. The door would be left open in the heat of passion, and it wouldn’t matter because no one else would be around (as far as they knew). He would climb onto the desk on top of her and their bodies would be a blur of lips and hands roaming everywhere. Somehow they would end up on the floor, and they wouldn’t say a word, and he wouldn’t think about Val or any potential consequences to what they were doing. The sex would be frantic, animal, desperate, like they couldn’t touch each other enough or get deep enough inside each other. He was certain Daniela would be the fuck of his life, and that both excited and terrified him.

Stop it, stop it now, the logical, faithful side of him screamed, but the side of him that was controlled by sex seemed to be winning the battle for his thoughts. He needed a cold shower. He needed a cup of coffee. He needed to do something, anything, to get away from Daniela’s presence in the office. Her laugh carried like the sound of Big Ben through London. Her perfume which smelled like a combination of lemons and cinnamon intoxicated him whenever she walked by. She was in his inbox, and then he looked up and she was in his office.
“Daniela!” he stuttered as he noticed her standing in the doorway.
“Didn’t mean to startle you Austin. I emailed and said I’d be coming by, I just assumed you’d have read it by now.”
“Right. I was just getting to that email, actually. What is it you wanted to discuss?”
“The Jamieson account. I know you said I should stall him, but he’s been phoning like a madman for two days straight and he’s really starting to get on my nerves. I’m not sure how much longer I can put him off.”
“Just tell him I’ll call him back.”
“Tried that. He doesn’t believe me anymore. I’ve got him holding on line three, and he’s refusing to hang up until he can talk to you.”
“Tell him I went out.”
“I did. He said he’ll wait.”

Austin heaved a big sigh and rolled his eyes. Jamieson was such a drama queen. His demands were completely unreasonable, and because of that it was taking Austin forever to sew up the loose ends of his account. It had only been a week since they’d last spoken, and Jamieson was already harassing the administration staff from nine to five straight. He wrinkled his forehead in order to encourage sympathy.
“Daniela. Isn’t there anything you can do to put him off for awhile longer?”
“Absolutely not,” she said, running her fingers through her inky, lush hair. “But I can sit here and talk you through it if you want,” she said with a sly smile, followed by a wink. Before Austin could object, she plopped herself down in one of the navy armchairs opposite his big mahogany desk and raised an eyebrow. “Well? He’s waiting. Line three! Go!” She waved her manicured nails in the direction of the phone.

He shook his head and couldn’t help but chuckle. Any other receptionist would have done his dirty work, and while they would have complained about it behind his back, they would have never done so to his face. He would never have had to deal with chubby Moira bursting into his office and forcing him to contend with a client he didn’t want to contend with. But then that was why he didn’t have a shockingly inappropriate crush on chubby Moira, and why the sight of Daniela crossing and then uncrossing her long, bronze legs in front of him was about to drive him out of his mind. He picked up the phone and unenthusiastically said “Austin Philips,” as though his mere name carried some admission of guilt.
“Philips, you bastard. I’ve been trying to pin you down for weeks now--”
“I believe it’s been a week.”
“—and I keep getting told that you’re not in the office, or that you’re in a meeting. Do these people think I’m stupid? I know when I’m being avoided, Philips, and I don’t like being screwed with.”
“Uh-huh,” he nodded, rolling his eyes at Daniela. She stifled her sexy laugh.
“’Uh-huh’? What the hell’s that supposed to mean, ‘uh-huh’?”
“Just that you’ve made a lot of very specific requests, and I told you I would be in touch when progress was made. These things take time, and we have a lot of other accounts we are working on as well.”
“I don’t give a fuck about your other accounts. I care about my account. My campaign. My career. Do you understand that, Philips? You’re not the only one getting pressure here! Now I want to know what has been done for my account! If I don’t have a full report on my desk tomorrow morning, you and your agency are toast.” He hung up.

Austin wasn’t sure whether to laugh or curse. He knew that the men in the biggest offices on the top floor weren’t going to like this. He knew he’d take flak for not taking care of Jamieson immediately, but he hated to let someone bully him.
“Well?” pressed Daniela expectantly. “Was it that bad?”
“You could say that. He’s threatening to pull the account.”
“Good thing you talked to him, then,” she said. Her logic irritated him but he knew she was right. There was nothing to be gained from avoidance.
“Well, I’m going to be up all night now trying to put this report together so he can have it ‘on his desk first thing tomorrow morning.’” The last part was said with a surprisingly accurate mimic.
“Want some company?” Daniela asked breezily. So breezily, in fact, that Austin wondered whether she knew how seductive she was being. Maybe she didn’t want anything to happen between them after all, Austin thought hopefully.
“I couldn’t ask you to stay after hours like that. You have your own things to work on, and this isn’t your problem.”
“I believe it became my problem when Jamieson started verbally abusing me all week long. I want him off our backs just as much as you do.”
And I want you on your back, he thought, then winced. It sounded like a line out of a bad porno. What was the matter with him lately?
“Well? What do you say, Austin? Can I stick around and help get Jamieson out of our lives?”
“I don’t know, Daniela.” His undertone was unmistakeable. He could tell she caught his drift; this wasn’t just about her taking on more than her fair share of the work-load, but about them being alone together all night.
“Please.” This was the only word she had to say to sway him. As soon as the breathy word was out of her mouth, he pictured her saying it in the same office, in a different context. On her back, underneath him, writhing and gasping, ‘Please. Please.’
“I’d love the company,” he said before he knew the words were out of his mouth. He hoped she didn’t know what he was thinking, but one look into her eyes told him that she did know. And that she was thinking the same thing.
She cocked her head to the side and said “Great. I’ll order in. Come by my desk when you’re ready to start.”

He wished she had her own office, so he wouldn’t have to see her all day, every day, out there in the middle of the floor at that long, high desk; swirling around on that plush swivel chair, talking discreetly into the phone when she thought no one was paying attention; eating pistachios one-by-one, sucking off the salt, cracking the shell inside her mouth, then spitting out the shell and swallowing the rest. She was so sexy. Everything about her was sexy. Watching her was like watching . . . art. The thought was sappy and he was embarrassed. Pull yourself together, Philips, he commanded himself. This has gone on long enough. He had a right mind to march right out of his office, stop by Daniela’s desk, and let her know that he wouldn’t be needing her help tonight after all. Thanks anyway. But he knew he would do no such thing. Tonight was going to happen, whether he wanted it to or not. He would just have to control himself, and then the spell would be broken, and he would return home to his wife, still faithful and trustworthy.

At twenty past five, Austin decided that enough time had passed since the end of the day for him to go by Daniela’s desk without seeming overly eager. “Austin, hi!” She said when she noticed him standing beside her chair. She hung up the phone. “I was just ordering in. You ever had Vietnamese?”
“No, but whatever you want is fine.”
“Well, that’s good to know,” she answered with a twinkle in her dark, mysterious eyes.
“Should we get to work?” he asked. He was scared.
“Sure. I’ve got all the Jamieson files right here,” she said, tapping a stack of folders on her desk. “Why don’t you make some coffee and I’ll be by your office in five?”

He nodded, thinking that chubby Moira would have never suggested that a senior staff member make the coffee. Then again, she would have never suggested a lot of things, and coffee wasn’t the biggest suggestion on the table tonight. The real suggestion hung between them in the air, like a tight-rope suspended above a stage, begging to know if the performers were daring enough to walk it. Austin ambled over to the espresso machine, hoping that his walk didn’t betray his nerves, his uncertainty. When everything was set in the beverage department, he stopped by his office to let his wife know he wouldn’t be home tonight.
“Hello?” His wife’s cheerful voice caused a cramp in his conscience. Was he really thinking of doing this?
“Hi, Bev. How was work?” He hoped her day had been good. She didn’t deserve to have a both bad day and a cheating husband in the span of 24-hours.
“It was fantastic.”
“Yeah?” He was stalling.
“Daniel did the most adorable impression of a robot! We were all pretending to be our favourite animal, I was a deer of course, and Daniel’s doing these weird movements and I’m wondering ‘what is heck is this kid trying to be?’ A robot, can you believe it? I couldn’t wait to tell his mom at the end of the day, she thought it was hilarious.”
“Beverly. I love how much you love those kids,” he replied, suddenly drenched with emotion.
“I do. Makes me wish our little rug-rats were still home. Can you believe we managed to get them out of the house and into college in one piece?”
Austin’s laugh was strangled. “You did most of the work.”
“You know that’s not true.”
“Bev?” Austin was not in the right frame of mind for a trip down marital memory lane.
“Oh, right. I guess there was a reason for your call.”
“I’m going to have to work late. All night, actually. I’ll probably just end up sleeping at the office.”
“All right,” she replied without a hint of suspicion. “I’ll grab my body pillow and a tub of popcorn and reacquaint myself with some chick flicks.”
“Have fun,” he said.
“I’d say it back, but I doubt you’ll be having much fun stuck in that office all night.”
“Probably not,” he lied. He hated himself at that moment. “Good night, Beverly.”
“Love ya,” she said, as she always did. Before he could say it back, the dial-tone was ringing in his hand. He had put the phone down and was sitting behind his desk with his head in his hands before he noticed Daniela standing in the doorway holding a tray with two espressos and a white paper bag which he presumed held Vietnamese.

“The wife?” she asked wryly.
He nodded.
“I’ve never been able to settle down, myself,” she said carelessly, as though she wasn’t trying to feel him out.
“Oh?” he replied lamely.
“I mean, I’ve had the opportunity, but I love the world too much. A lot out there to experience still, you know?”
“Well, you’re young.” He wanted to kick himself as soon as he said it. Was he or was he not trying to bed this woman?
“And you’re experienced.” She didn’t seem slighted by his remark about her youth. She seemed . . . amused. She set the take-out bag on his desk, and wonderful smells wafted towards him. “Fried coconut shrimp?” she offered, handing him one of the containers and a set of chopsticks.
“I can never figure out how to work these things. Didn’t they send forks?” He asked, tilting the bag towards him to get a better look.
“Oh, you can’t go the rest of your life not knowing how to use chopsticks, Austin.” She leaned forward over the desk, exposing a dangerous amount of tanned cleavage and broke apart the chopsticks he held impotently in his hand. “Here. Do it like this,” she said, demonstrating the proper technique. Austin imitated her movements, reached for a shrimp, and then promptly dropped it, the grease staining the oversized paper calendar he had taped to his desk. Daniela laughed, then touched his fingers with hers, adjusting his grip. “There,” she murmured. “Try it like that.”
He did, and it worked. He was amazed that after fifty plus years of living on this planet, he had now mastered the art of using chopsticks. “I bet you could teach me all sorts of things,” he said, aware that with any other woman that line would have come off as sleazy. Maybe it even sounded sleazy with this one.

“You shouldn’t be afraid of yourself, Austin,” she said softly. “You shouldn’t hold back.” It was like she knew all the thoughts that had been going through his head in the months since her arrival. He didn’t just want her, he wanted everything she represented. He wanted freedom, he wanted to learn, he wanted to grow and move and experiment, to get the hell out of this damned office and start living life. He felt longing so deep he knew he couldn’t suppress it anymore. He reached across the desk, and placing both hands on her neck, drew her up and forward. He kissed her deeply, like someone wandering in the desert who was finally getting that longed for sip of water. He lost himself in her, and in doing so, finally woke himself up.

They were clawing at each other like two untamed animals. He had her pushed up against the wall and panting for him. He kissed her mouth and she moaned hungrily as he slid her tongue through her lips and massaged the inside of her mouth. She ran her fingers through his hair and pulled his head closer because she couldn’t get enough. He kissed her neck, then ran his tongue along the outside of her ear which evoked another moan. She bit his shoulder, and he pushed her pants down around her knees and slid his fingers in through the side of her panties. Feeling the wet heat between her legs drove him wild, and before he knew what he was doing he was down on his knees, dragging her undies down with his teeth and nibbling the outside of her Brazilian-waxed pussy. He slid his tongue over the areas surrounding her clit until she begged, “Please,” and then he rubbed her clit with his tongue until he heard her scream. Satisfied that he’d got her off, he pulled her down towards the ground and kissed her face. She ran her tongue over his lips and tasted herself, a move which made his cock swell even more. He hadn’t thought it possible to be more aroused. He slid his body towards her, and angled himself, and then he entered her. She moaned loudly and threw her head back, tossing her hair from side to side. He drove himself into her again and again, harder and harder. She scratched her nails down his back and almost drew blood, but pain coupled with so much pleasure only made the sex feel even better. Grabbing her he spun her around, so she was on her knees with her back to him, and then he entered her from behind. She let out a scream, followed by moans of ecstasy that increased in volume whenever he hit that spot which drove her crazy. Her body tensed and the released, and he felt his do the same.
It was the fuck of his life.

Austin woke the morning after the mind-blowing sex and gazed in amazement at the stunning woman beside him. She really was smokin’ hot. The experience of Costa Rica had made her even more beautiful, if that was possible. She had colour in her cheeks, and the sun had taken her hair from honey to platinum blonde. She rolled over, as though she could sense she was being watched, and gave her husband a big smile. “Austin,” she said warmly. “Thank you so much for making us do this.” This was selling their house, cashing in their shares in the company, taking early retirement and finally embarking on that trip around the world.

©Fable J. Hill, 2008. All rights reserved unless written permission is granted.

No comments: