Sitting at my desk, pretending to wrap up a file. Colleagues file out, laughing about their perfect Valentine’s nights. I bite my tongue. Want to scream their men are cheating bastards like Marc. Waited all day for his call. Our first Valentine’s, he promised. At 28, still believing in fairy tales.
Marc’s a god, but married to that Instagram blonde who popped out two kids to trap him. Met him in a pub. His eyes devoured my curvy brunette body, olive skin. I spread for him in the toilets that night. Hard, fast fuck. Thought he was the one. Almost a year later? Three full nights together. Stolen moments turning frustrating.
The Awakening: Rage to Reckless Desire
Financial analyst like me? I’d call this a shit investment. Phone silent. Rage boils. ‘Asshole!’ I mutter loud.
‘You okay?’ Anne’s husky voice startles me. My colleague, blonde, slim, lesbian. Sits on my desk, nylon thigh flashing. ‘He’s fucking his wife?’
‘Probably.’ We laugh. She jokes about trying women. ‘Talk to my horse.’ Usual banter.
She leaves. I stalk his building in my car. Freezing feet, burning inside. Lights on. Kids, wife, flowers maybe. Phone rings. Anne. Knows I’m here. ‘Come to Flamant Rose. Women’s bar. Don’t be alone.’ I go.
Bar’s all women. Spot Anne with hot barmaid. She waves. ‘Here’s the hottest!’ Metisse Melissa eyes my cleavage, thighs. Two mojitos. Anne’s hand on my knee. ‘Ditch him.’
World’s new. Normal women kissing, chatting. Anne spots redhead, ditches me. Butch approaches. Melissa saves me. ‘She’s with Anne.’ Free drink. We talk. She’s 30, single, owns the place. I spill about Marc. Laughs off advances on me.
‘Smoke break?’ She goes. Butch returns. Panic. I chase her to alley. Grab my hand. Drags to dark office.
The Act: Dripping, Devoured, Exploding
Heart pounds. Forbidden rush hits. Her arms wrap me. Soft kiss. I melt. Tongues tangle, hungry. Hands rip open my blouse. Heavy tits spill out. Lace bra shoved aside. Nipples hard.
‘Beautiful.’ Her mouth attacks. Licks wide brown areolas. Sucks deep. Legs shake. Pussy soaks thong. She hikes skirt. Fingers tease wet lace.
‘No…’ Weak. She ignores. Strokes clit through fabric. I buck. Lights dim. She lays me on desk. Straddles. Pulls thong off. Fingers plunge into dripping slit. Tongue claims mine.
Breathless. She devours tits again. Trails down. Navel. Trim bush. Spreads lips. Tongue flicks clit. ‘Ahhh!’ Hips arch. She sucks, circles. Fingers curl inside. Gushes flow.
Too good. Better than any guy. Build explodes. ‘I’m cumming!’ She sucks harder. Waves crash. Body convulses. She laps every drop.
Panting. Her eyes hungry. ‘Happy Valentine’s, baby.’ I smile. Fix skirt. Her sad puppy face. ‘Take me home?’
She grins. Kisses soft. Leads me out. Followed her all night. Secret thrill burns. Betrayed by him. Freed by her. No regrets. This obsession? Mine alone.