Risky Business, Chapter 1

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Amateur

Technically, Ryan wasn’t a co-worker. We just worked for the same company in the same building on the same floor. All of the women in the office talked about him and how good looking he was and I obviously agreed, though I never thought that flashing a smile here and there or having quick coquettish conversations would lead to anything. Eventually, though, he asked me to lunch and we got along so famously that I agreed to meet for a quick glass of wine after work and before you knew it those lunches and after-work drinks became a regular thing. It wasn’t anything serious and it went on for weeks. At the time I thought they were just harmless flirty get-togethers before going home to our spouses.But I began to fantasize about Ryan all the time. It’s not that I was beylikdüzü escort in love with him or wanted to leave my husband and marry him. Andrew and I had been happily married for six years, after all, and I had never once contemplated straying. No, it wasn’t lust. I rather think I was addicted to the illicit thrill of flirting with someone not my spouse. It was so much fun playing at being naughty right under our unsuspecting coworkers’ noses that I couldn’t stop even when it started to become more than a game. Work was suddenly interesting. I rushed to get there early in the morning and the weekends seemed to drag by. I lay awake thinking of new ways to torment Ryan and was surprised at how dirty and devious my mind could be.Like beylikdüzü escort bayan the time I slinked up to him doe-eyed and sensuous in the break room while he was getting coffee, leaned in as if for a kiss, then brusquely said “excuse me” and walked right on past with a brush of my boob leaving him flat-footed and flustered. Or the time in the crowded elevator when I managed to stand directly in front of him, “accidentally” dropped my binder, and, bending to pick it up, made sure that the bulge in his Dockers pressed into the cleavage of my backside. I swear I felt it twitch.One day we happened to meet in the foyer to the restrooms when with a conspiratorial leer and wink he slipped me a folded piece of paper. I locked escort beylikdüzü myself in a cubicle and read while my stream hissed noisily into the commode:Good girls get kissed. Bad girls get spanked. And you are very good at being bad.Oh, gosh! How did he guess my secret fantasy? My husband was nice and considerate and thoughtful, but just once I’d like someone to take charge of me, to be rough with me, to bend me squirming over his lap and spank my bare bottom until it sang. Just thinking about it caused a little jolt in my groin.I sat for a moment reading and rereading, then leaned back on the toilet, spread my lips, and deliberately stroked my moistening hoo-ha until it thrilled. I came with a gasp then dug a pen from my purse and wrote:Maybe you should spank me, because when I read your note I did something very, very bad. And I never learn without proper punishment.I got the feeling that he timed his exit to coincide with my own. We exchanged smirks before I thrust the note back into his hand and returned to my desk, excited in a new kind of way.

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