When Dwight calls her at home to tell her that their top
reporter has gotten involved with their other top reporter.
“We have to do something about it, Linda,” Dwight tells her,
something in the tone of her voice suggesting he knows more about her feelings
that she’s ever let on.
Linda has always lusted after that reporter, but he’s always
been too stand offish – even though she knows perfectly well how attracted to
her he is.
“He’s always staring at my breasts,” she thinks.
Only she no longer has those breasts, due to cancer surgery,
and the reporter doesn’t stare at her the way he used to, and this only makes
her lust for him more intense.
She has seen him staring at the other worker and so have
others in the office, too close knit for anything to get by, and it is enough
to drive her crazy with jealousy.
Why did that girl have to pick on the boy she lusts after?
Or is it the other way around, his need finding a warm place in her bed?
“I think we need to fire him,” Dwight says.
“Are you crazy? Do you know how many awards he’s won.”
“Yes, but I can imagine how much we’ll have to pay out if we
do nothing and the girl decides to sue.”
A horrified Linda, however, can’t imagine coming to the
office every day and not finding him here, buried in his little alcove beneath
the stairs.
“Why did that girl have to pick him with so many other
available men for her to choose from?”
The whole affair sends Linda into a frenzy, how she might
finally lure him away not just from the girl, but from the office filled with
gossips.
“Perhaps I can use this somehow,” she thinks.
Her head swells with day dreams she’s had since the reporter
came to work for them, trying to imagine what it would feel like to have his
hands on her.
“Do his kisses really taste sweet?”
She longs for feeling his body pressed up against hers.
When she and Dwight call the reporter into the office, he
hardly looks at her, despite her doing everything to draw his attention, a
skirt with a slit up the side all the way to the thighs, her lingering fingers
on him when they shake hands, and her blouse unbuttoned far enough to show the
swell of her artificial breasts.
Linda realizes that her partner wants to fire the reporter,
not because of the indiscretion, but because Dwight is also involved with the
same girl.
The jealousy shows on his sweaty face.
God help us, how many others in the office know this.
There are no secrets in this place, and Dwight clearly fears
the reporter might give away his affair with the girl, something perhaps that
much more likely if Dwight gets his way and fires him.
What magic over men does this girl have that makes them act
so crazy?
Or maybe it’s the other way around.
Being this close to the reporter in the room, Linda feels
the intensity of her attraction and tries not to.
Her mind keeps manufacturing images, of his cock, feeling it
inside her, feeling him on top of her.
She can almost taste his cum as she licks her lips and feel
his cock moving deep inside her pussy.
Linda confronts Dwight after they ask the reporter to sit
outside until they come to a consensus.
“You are a pig, Dwight,” she tells him.
Blushes deeply including his bald head, part of it from rage
of his own.
“You should talk,” he tells her. “It’s clear you want to
fuck him.”
“I want more than that,” Linda says, and it is true. “But at
this point, you have too much to hide for us to simply fire him.”
“Well, if you know about me and her, then he does, too,”
Dwight says. “What’s to keep him from blathering it all to his blogger
friends.”
“You leave that to me,” Linda says. “I’ll convince him.”
“How?” Dwight asks, “by fucking him?”
“If I have to. Now call him back in here so we can get this
thing settled.”
The reporter, who is hardly a reporter, steps back into
their office, looking at Dwight then at Linda.
“Are you going to terminate me?” he asks.
“No,” Linda tells him. “But you’re going to have to make up
for this.”
“How?”
“I have some chores in mind,” Linda says, ignoring the snort
Dwight emits. “I want you to come out to my farm for a few days.”
It is then that he looks at her again, that old look, that
lusting look, his quivering lips as he stares at her fake breasts, as if they
were real, as if he already guesses what she means.
“This doesn’t mean things are settled between you and me,”
Dwight says, ruining the moment for Linda.
Later, Linda pulls her jeep up in front of the office door,
waving the reporter to climb inside, which he does.
Only he seems cold, remote, clearly pinning over the other
woman. They even pass where the other girl lives and he looks longingly at her
apartment, searching for her at one of the windows.
“Why?” asks Linda, furious with jealously, wanting him to
feel about her as he clearly feels about the other girl. “What does she have
that other women don’t?”
“It’s hard to explain,” the reporter says.
“Try? I really want to understand.”
“She’s beautiful and immensely talented. She sings like an
angel and writes poems that knock me off my feet.”
“So, you fucked her because she writes good poetry?”
“The sex almost has nothing to do with it,” he said as Linda
steered the jeep onto the highway going west.
“You didn’t like fucking her?”
“I didn’t say that. I could spend my whole life making love
to her – not just fucking her, but holding her, kissing her, feeling her body.”
This only enrages Linda more and she falls into a moody
silence.
But as they get further from the office and from the town
where the girl lives, things seem better.
“So, if I wrote poetry and sang like an angel, you might
want to fuck me, too?” Linda asks, laughing.
During the ride she catches him looking at her, evaluating
her, clearly thinking how much he would like to fuck her, and she imagines
sucking his cock, and letting him fuck her, her loss of breasts making her no
less a woman.
“I’ve always wanted to fuck you,” he says.
“So, what stopped you?”
“You’re my fucking boss!”
“That didn’t stop your girlfriend from sleeping with my
partner, “Linda says sourly.
“I’m no more happy about that than you are,” he says,
staring away from Linda towards the passing landscape.
He seems incredibly sad, and for the first time, Linda
realizes the man is actually in love with the woman.
When they reach the farm, he looks nervous again, as if
scared of being alone with Linda, as if he’s put together all the pieces in his
head to realize what she really wants to do with him now that they are here.
Perhaps he’s thinking of his girl being fucked by Dwight,”
Linda thinks as she pulls the jeep up the dirt driveway towards the farm house.
That look she longs for just isn’t there, or worse, it is
reserved for the girl elsewhere.
“All right,” Linda announced once they climbed out onto
solid ground. “Time to teach you your duties for the weekend.”
She leads him into the barn. This is the first time she’s
actually been alone with him in a place other than the office, and she feels as
nervous as a virgin. It’s just the two of them, walking there.
She grabs hold of his hands and lifts them against her
artificial breasts.
“They’re not real,” she tells him. “But maybe they feel as
good as you imagined my real breasts might have.”
“They do,” he admits.
Then, it all gushes out of her, all the waiting she has
done, all of dreams she’s had sometimes even in the office, and whatever
barriers existed dropped away in her.
she grabs him, pushes him against the wall of the stall, and
begins to tear his clothing off, his hard-on making it clear he still finds her
attractive
They lay down in the hay, naked, he kissing her madly, she
pulling him close, chest to chest, hip to hip, and when he eases his cock into
her, she screams with delight.
“This is all I ever wanted,” she says, then whispers in his
ear. “This will be your chores for the weekend. Fuck me until I can’t walk.”
She knows this won’t last, and so, she wants it all as much
as he can give her, even if he’s secretly thinking of the girl he can’t be
with.
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