My Coworker Waited for Me After the Sunday Shift

We ran into each other on the stairs just as the shift was ending. Those of us leaving, those coming in, the stragglers arriving late to wrap up a couple of loose ends. Everyone who’d been there that afternoon had a couple of days off ahead of us, so we said our goodbyes with those empty remarks that only serve to fill the silence at the end of a workday.

In the parking lot, I headed straight for my car. I didn’t even meet her eyes. I’d spent the whole afternoon avoiding her so I wouldn’t give myself away in front of the others.

—Hey, Martín! —she shouted over her shoulder, loud enough for everyone to hear.

That afternoon the universe seemed determined to test me.

—Remember you said you’d drive me home? A weird light came on in my car when I got there. I’m picking it up with the tow truck tomorrow.

I’ve always been a terrible actor, but I covered as best I could.

—Oh, yeah, right, I’d forgotten! My head’s nowhere these days.

We got into my car. I was still buzzing from the maneuver.

—Find an alley, an empty lot, a parking place, a hotel, or whatever you can think of. I’ve been soaking wet for three hours and I can’t, and don’t want to, get home like this —she told me as she buckled her seat belt and, with the other hand, undid the button on her pants.

Hardly had we left the company grounds when she slid her hand under her clothes, leaned back in the seat, and closed her eyes. I heard perfectly well as two fingers sank into her wet cunt, a small, obscene splashing in the silence of the car.

—If you stop next to a truck, let me know, I don’t want to put on a show —she murmured, her breathing already changing—. Though honestly, thinking about someone catching me with my fingers shoved all the way inside turns me on.

In a few minutes I was already heading out of the city. It was summer, but on Sunday afternoons there was very little traffic. She kept her hand where she’d put it, unhurried, setting a rhythm that slowly heated her up. She pulled her skirt up to her waist and let me glimpse, out of the corner of my eye, how she spread her cunt lips with her V-shaped fingers, and how her heart sank inside, going in and out with a sticky shine that spread across her pubis. I, inside my trousers, felt my cock start demanding its turn urgently, swollen, tight against the seam. I pulled down the zipper to give myself a little relief and keep the fabric from squeezing me any more than necessary. She stretched out her free hand and pulled my cock out of my briefs, gripped it by the base, and began stroking it slowly, squeezing hard each time she came up to the head.

—Hurry —she whispered—. Because if I come before you stop, then it’s no good to me afterward.

Out there, there’s never any shortage of farm roads disappearing between grazing properties. Within a few minutes I’d parked the car on a dead-end track, in front of a metal fence. I turned off the engine. The lights went out with it. Only the moon lit us, faintly, peeking through the acacias.

We opened the doors and got out at the same time. We found each other in front of the hood. Quick, rough kisses, hands that didn’t know where to begin. I threw my T-shirt to the ground and she yanked off her bra. We already had our pants around our ankles, along with everything else. I grabbed her tits with both hands, squeezed them hard, bit one nipple until she let out a gasp. She shoved me down, palm on my shoulder, until I was kneeling in front of her cunt.

—Lick it —she ordered—. Fast, don’t let it rest.

I ran my whole tongue over the slit of her cunt, bottom to top, and tasted hot woman, sweat, and hours of waiting. I spread her lips with my thumbs and drove my tongue inside, working it like a little cock. Then I moved up to her clit, circled it, sucked it like candy, while I slid two fingers into her cunt and curved my fingertips against the upper wall. She held herself up on the hood with one hand and used the other to press my head against her crotch, shamelessly grinding her face against me.

—That’s it, you son of a bitch, that’s it —she growled—. Fuck me, how you eat me out.

I got up with my mouth smeared in her juices. She turned around without being asked, braced her hands on the hood, and opened her legs a little, arching her ass toward me. The metal, still warm from the day, reddened the skin on her thighs as soon as it touched her. I grabbed one cheek in each hand, parted them, and spat on her cunt so it would slide in better.

I drove my cock in with one thrust of the hips, all the way to the hilt. She let out a muffled cry, but there was no resistance. The heat built up since the afternoon, the massages she’d given herself in the car, all of it had prepared the ground. Going in felt like arriving at a warm house in the middle of winter, smelling of fireplace smoke. She was so wet I could hear it slapping every time I drove in deep, a damp, dirty sound that echoed off the metal fence.

I kept pounding hard, tugging her hair with one hand and digging my fingers into her hip with the other. Each thrust pulled a short, tight moan from between her teeth. She’d sensed from the very first second that the party wouldn’t last long, so she helped herself with the pads of her fingers between her legs, rubbing her clit to the rhythm I was setting from behind. I landed two sharp smacks on her right cheek and left the red imprint of my hand under the moonlight.

—Harder —she panted—. Tear my cunt apart, I don’t care, tear it apart.

My restraint from the whole afternoon couldn’t last another minute. I shoved my cock in to the balls, pulled out again, and went back in, and I just couldn’t hold on anymore. I clutched her hips so I wouldn’t fall and, with one last effort, felt myself melting inside her, my cum coming out in thick spurts, filling her cunt until it started to overflow and run down the inside of her thigh.

She bore my weight without saying a word. Her fingers kept moving on her clit, faster and faster. As my strength faded and I came out of her, I felt contractions squeezing the tip of my cock and rippling through her belly. Her arousal had been as intense as mine, and it didn’t take long for her to come: she shook against the hood, mouth open against the metal, while a thread of my semen mixed with her juices dripped down between her legs to the dirt floor.

We separated, panting. We breathed in deeply the smell of dry earth, cut grass, sex. That was when I realized that since we’d turned onto the road we’d barely said a word that wasn’t an insult or an order.

It had been a dirty, quick encounter, with no time to savor it. But necessary. Our bodies had spent a week building up tension that needed to be relieved somehow. So we did.

She took some wet wipes out of her bag and handed me one without saying anything. She cleaned her cunt and the insides of her thighs, made a ball of the used wipe, and threw it into a plastic bag. We stayed silent. We got our clothes back in order and returned to the car like two thieves who’d just wrapped up a clean job.

Before I started the engine, her phone rang.

—Yes, honey, don’t worry. The afternoon’s been a mess. Yes, but I’m on my way out now. See you in a bit.

She had just hung up on her daughter. I was already pulling out onto the main road, heading to her house.

—Tomorrow I’ll grab a taxi to go pick up the car at the office. Don’t worry about that. And how long until your apartment is ready?

It was more of a monologue than a conversation. That week had been madness, the excitement hanging heavy in the air since Monday.

I dropped her off at the door of her house. She shot out of the car. I lingered for a second looking at that ass I liked so much, still marked by my fingers under her skirt, and then I headed home to my friend’s place. I needed a shower and to get a little order back in my head.

When I got there, he was already in bed. I got into the shower without eating dinner and gave myself an epic wank to try to put out the heat I was still carrying: I grabbed my cock with both hands and worked it thinking about how her cunt lips opened on the hood, the thread of cum sliding down her thigh, until I came against the tiles with a growl I had to swallow so I wouldn’t wake my friend. Straight to bed. I fell asleep before I finished the thought.

***

The next morning the phone woke me up. It was the contractor. In two days I’d be able to go back to the apartment. The work would be finished and the insurance company would send a cleaning crew to get it ready. I cracked a victorious smile. No sooner had I hung up than it rang again.

—Good morning. Did you sleep well? —it was her.

Her voice finished waking me up. So did my cock.

—Honestly, yeah, I was out cold. The contractor just called me. In a couple of days my apartment’s ready.

—Have you had breakfast?

—I don’t even know what time it is —I replied—. But I’m starving.

—It’s nine. I went to pick up the car and bought fresh croissants. The girl is at her grandparents’ house. I made up some far-fetched excuse to take her there so she can spend the morning helping them with a few errands. I’m alone at home until this afternoon. Are you coming?

She didn’t give me time to answer. She hung up just like that.

Ten seconds later, my phone vibrated. It was a short video. She was wearing a thin white nightgown with Minnie on it. She slowly lowered the straps until the fabric fell by gravity and left her tits bare, her hard nipples pointing at the camera. The frame cut off just as her hand moved down toward her pubis. Never had a house dress looked so indecent on a woman’s body.

I brushed my teeth, put on the first thing I found, and took the stairs two at a time. Within minutes I was in front of her door.

She opened it wearing the same nightgown I’d seen in the video. We started kissing before she had even closed the door. The nightgown flew into the living room, just like my clothes. I shoved my tongue down her throat while pushing her against the wall of the foyer. She grabbed my cock over my pants, lowered the zipper with one hand, and pulled it out already hard, slapping it against the inside of her thigh. We didn’t make it to the bedroom. We fell onto the foyer rug like two teenagers taking advantage of an empty house for the first time.

She got on all fours on the rug, her ass up in the air toward me, and turned her head over her shoulder with a defiant smile.

—Eat me first —she said—. I want to feel your tongue before your cock.

I knelt behind her. I spread her ass cheeks with my thumbs and ran my whole tongue over her, from the clit to the asshole and back down. I repeated the path several times, each time slower, until I heard her moaning with her face against the rug. I buried my tongue in her cunt, pulled it out, spat into her back hole, and slipped a finger into her while I kept eating her pussy from the front. She ground herself against my face, wanting more pressure.

—Put it in already, fuck, I can’t take it —she panted.

I straightened up on my knees and lined up behind her cunt. I drove my cock in with one shove, all the way to the hilt. She let out an animal grunt and clenched her fists against the rug. I started fucking her hard, holding her by the hips, watching my dick slide in and out, glistening with her juices. I gave her one sharp smack on the left cheek and another on the right.

—More —she begged—. Harder.

I grabbed her hair, pulled back until her back arched, and kept ramming her with all my weight. The slap of my hips against her ass echoed dryly through the foyer. I ran a thumb over her asshole, wet it with the saliva dripping from her cunt, and pushed it in to the knuckle. She screamed and came instantly, squeezing her cunt around my cock in a series of spasms that nearly dragged me under too.

I held on. I pulled out before I came and flipped her over onto the rug. I left her on her back, legs spread wide, and went back in. I grabbed her tits with both hands and squeezed them to the rhythm of my thrusts. She hooked her heels around my lower back and pulled me in.

—Come inside —she whispered against my ear—. Today inside. All of it.

I sped up. I drove my cock in to the hilt three, four, five times, and felt my cum rise from my balls and burst in thick spurts inside her. I stayed lodged there, moving my hips in little circles to empty myself completely, while she clutched my ass with both hands.

It was a fabulous summer Monday.

From the living room we moved to the bedroom. The morning was for slow kisses, unhurried caresses, saliva, fingers, tongue, lubricant, toys she kept in the nightstand drawer and we had never had time to use. I ate her cunt until she came three times in a row against my mouth. She sucked my cock slowly, looking me in the eyes, her lips tight around the head, and pulled it out of her mouth just before I came so she could jerk off the rest against her tits. She took a pink vibrator out of the drawer and put it on her clit while I slid into her very slowly, controlling the pace so she wouldn’t finish too soon. She came twice more, her legs shaking and her voice broken. We recovered all the caresses we hadn’t been able to give each other the week before, and many more besides.

After midday we went down to the kitchen to replenish our strength. The croissants had been invaded by an army of ants and ended up straight in the trash. We laughed at the disaster, both of us naked, with the sunlight slipping through the half-open blind.

She opened the fridge and took out whatever she found: cheese, tomato, a jar of olives. I sat on a tall stool by the kitchen island. She leaned against the counter, right in front of me, and looked at me with that smile she got when she knew she had me where she wanted me.

—Do you realize what we’re doing? —she asked.

—I do.

—And doesn’t it weigh on you?

It should weigh on me. It should have weighed on me since the first kiss in the photocopier room.

—It should —I said—. But I’ve spent the whole week thinking about you, and none of those thoughts had anything to do with guilt.

She nodded, as if she’d been expecting exactly that answer. She cut a slice of tomato and put it in her mouth without taking her eyes off me. Then she cut another and held it out to me with her fingers. I tasted it from her hand. Between the tomato, the oil, and the salt, she let slip a smile I knew far too well.

—We’ve got the whole morning —she said—. And later, when you’ve got the apartment, we’ll have a lot more.

I didn’t answer. No need. I stepped down from the stool, lifted her into my arms, and set her on the counter. The olives rolled across the table and went all the way to the edge. She didn’t care. Neither did I.

She spread her knees without being asked. The light coming in through the window drew a warm line on her thigh, right where a few hours earlier I’d had my hand pressed. I leaned in to kiss her neck, her shoulder, the hollow beneath her collarbone, the nipples that went hard at once under my tongue. She sank her fingers into my hair and pulled, just a little, just enough to remind me that that morning she was the one setting the pace.

I lowered my head until I was between her legs and ran my tongue over her cunt calmly, unhurriedly, tasting every fold. I sucked her clit with soft lips, in gentle circles, while I slipped two fingers inside her and moved them slowly against the upper wall. She arched her back against the cabinets and gripped the edge of the counter. When I felt her about to come, I rose, kissed her on the mouth so she could taste herself, and slid my cock into her slowly, all the way in, with her still sitting on the cold stone.

We moved slowly. Without the animal hunger of the track, without the urgency of the car, without the haste of the foyer. This time there was time, there was silence, there was a dim kitchen that smelled of cold coffee and yesterday’s bread. I fucked her looking into her eyes, never breaking my gaze, pulling my cock almost all the way out and thrusting it back in to the hilt with a long, round motion that made her close her eyelids and bite her lip. She ran a hand over my chest, pinched one nipple, scratched slowly down to my hip. She came without a sound, trembling inside, eyes wet and a tired smile on her face. I followed a few seconds later, emptying myself inside her for the second time that morning, holding her against me as if I never wanted to let her go.

When we were done, she stayed sitting on the counter, still wrapped around my neck, my cum sliding slowly down her thigh to the stone. She rested her forehead against mine and we breathed in unison for a long minute.

—This is going to get complicated —she whispered.

—It’s been complicated for a while already.

She laughed softly. She kissed me on the lips, unhurriedly, and hopped down to the floor to look for something to wear before the girl came back much earlier than expected. I stayed a moment longer leaning on the counter, looking out the window at a patio with a lemon tree.

Outside, Monday was still just an ordinary Monday for everyone else. Inside that kitchen, it was the beginning of something neither of us quite knew how we were going to end.