by Alice Bright
I'm getting wetter, needier, more desperate as I start to suck harder, losing myself in the moment. Soon I'm not thinking about Amy or my old job. The only thing I need is Sean. The only thing I want is Sean. The only thing I have to focus on is him, his cock, and this moment.
And I love losing myself in him.
"Violet," he hisses my name, gripping my hair and forcing me deeper onto his cock. It's exactly what I need: him taking control. There are too many moments when I feel like I have to make a million choices. Losing my ability to make decisions, even something as small as how fast to suck him off, is exactly what I need.
I need to submit to him here, in this moment.
I crave it.
And as I give in to my feral desires, as Sean takes over my entire body, I feel him erupt inside of me.
Exploding.
8.
I have two weeks’ worth of voicemails to catch up when I return to the office on Monday, but I brace myself and hit “play,” trying to remember that it’s all going to be okay.
The first three are ordinary, normal. Nothing special. Nothing important. Nothing I’ll lose sleep over.
Then voicemail #4 comes through loud and clear.
It’s Tim Shoemaker: my old boss.
Yes, the one who didn’t care that I was quitting.
Yes, the one who sided with the president of the college over something they should have had no opinion about.
Yes, the one who hasn’t spoken to me since I quit.
Oh, and did I mention that he has my personal cell phone number? So why would he call me at my new place of employment?
“Hi Violet, this is Tim Shoemaker. I, uh, I’m calling in regards to your position at SVCC. We’ve made some changes recently and I’d like to discuss the possibility of you returning to your former job here.” He pauses, then continues. “We couldn’t offer you a raise or a bonus, but would be quite grateful if you would consider returning to your SVCC family. We all miss you here. Let me know as soon as possible. Thanks.”
I stare blankly at the wall in front of me.
Is this for real?
Quitting my job as the webmaster was one of the hardest choices I’ve ever had to make. Yes, there have been some pretty tough choices I’ve had to make since then, but seriously, what the hell? Why would he call me at my job and offer me my old one back?
More importantly, what makes him think that I would come back?
Am I really so naïve that I’m just going to come crawling back to him?
I wonder what happened at SVCC. Something bad must have gone down for them to ask for me back. Tim doesn’t make apologies often, obviously, and I’ve never seen him call someone who quit before. So, I do the only reasonable thing I can do: I look up the school’s website.
I’m glad I’m not drinking coffee, because I would have just spit it all out.
The new website, the one I was originally in charge of, is now live. The design features frames, as well as several .gif images you’d expect to find on a website from the late 90s: not the mid 2010s.
I can’t help but wonder if this entire thing is a joke.
My cell phone still has the contact information for my old coworker, Nathan, so I give him a ring and hope he answers.
As luck would have it, he picks up on the first ring.
“Nathan speaking.”
“Nathan, it’s Vi.”
“Violet?!” He sounds excited to hear from me. “Oh, thank God. Are you coming back?”
“Uh, I’m not coming back, Nathan. I just called to find out what the hell is going on. I just checked my voicemail and Timothy wants me to take my old job back. What gives?”
“You gotta come back, Vi.”
“What’s going on?” I ask again, more persistent this time. He has to give me something. Anything.
With a sigh, he answers. “So Jason hired this new guy. He’s awful.”
“What do you mean?” My job was tricky, for sure, but to design something that hideous? That takes skill.
“I mean look at the site, Vi. There’s a guestbook, for crying out loud! Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve seen a website with a guestbook?”
I bite back a laugh. It’s true. I haven’t seen a serious website with a guestbook in at least 10 years, maybe more. Probably more. Definitely more.
“Maybe he’s going for a retro look,” I offer up.
I picture Nathan shaking his head.
“No way. The guy’s not that smart. Anyway, students started complaining immediately. They completely took down student logins, so you can’t get online to check your grades anymore.”
“What!?” Now I’m the one who’s livid. “Do you know how long it took me to implement that system? What’s the point of calling yourself a ‘school on the cutting edge’ if you can’t even let your students get online to check their information?”
“I know,” Nathan agrees. “Well, the problem is this: everyone complained, everyone wrote letters, everyone called. Even parents called. Potential students, too. They all went nuts writing us hate mail and leaving comments in the guestbook that just said ‘lame’ or ‘penis.’” Seriously?
“I still don’t understand what this has to do with me.”
“They want you to come back and clean up the mess.”
Ah. Now I get it.
It’s not that they need me: it’s that the new guy messed up.
It’s not that they miss having me around: it’s that the new guy made more work for them.
In another world, it would be easy for me to fall back into my old routine, but I’ve changed a lot in the month I’ve been gone. I’m not the same girl anymore. I’m not scared of making a mistake or pissing someone off. I’m not afraid of losing my job. I’m not afraid of being replaced.
I’m secure.
And I have an amazing boyfriend-slash-boss who happens to think I’m quite incredible right where I am.
I think about what my dad said, about me being unhappy. I realize now that he was right. Yeah, I had a regular paycheck, but my whole life was ordinary. It was plain. It was really boring. Now I have something else, something special.
Just as I’m about to give Nathan my answer, Sean walks in, affirming my decision. He doesn’t say anything. He just marches in with that swagger, that confidence, and leans against the doorframe like a teenage boy.
“Nathan, you can tell Tim to stop calling me. I’m not coming back.”
I don’t wait for an answer. I just hang up the phone and hop out of my chair.
“Important call?” Sean asks.
“They want me back at SVCC.”
“I know.”
He does?
“How do you know?” I ask him, placing my hands on his chest, not caring who sees. I push up on my toes so that I’m in his face. Our lips are only inches apart.
“They called me and asked me to release you from your position.”
Now that’s ballsy. Tim wasn’t sure that he’d be able to get me to quit, so he went behind my back and asked my boss? Did he really expect that Sean would just fire me? He knows we’re involved. Wait, maybe that’s it. Maybe he tried to use that to get Sean to let me go.
“Sean,” I ask seriously, almost not wanting to hear the response. “Did Timothy threaten to blackmail you?”
Sean nods, obviously not wanting to talk about it, but I pry further.
“And you didn’t give in?”
“He threatened to tell my dad that I was dating someone who worked for me.”
“What did you do?”
“I hung up the phone and called my father before Tim ever got the choice, Violet. I’m an adult in an adult relationship. It’s none of my dad’s business who I date, fuck, or fall in love with, but if that’s the ‘bait’ that Tim is holding over my head, then he can go fuck himself.”
9.
“Dinner tonight?” Sean asks me, still standing in my office, still looking amazing.
“Hmm,” I tap my index fing
er against my chin, pretending to be deep in thought. “I’m not sure. The only thing I want to eat tonight is you.” I lick my lips lasciviously, hoping I look sexy and not silly.
“You’ve tasted me quite a bite lately,” he grabs my waist and pulls me close. “Maybe it’s time you let me have a turn. I bet you're delicious.” He closes my office door with one hand while he grips my hair with the other, pulling my mouth into his. The kiss is deep and passionate, dark and needy.
He picks me up and carries me over to my desk. Pushing a stack of files out of the way, he places me there and smirks.
“Spread your legs.”
I dart my eyes toward the door, making sure no one is coming. We shouldn’t be interrupted. There’s no reason for us to be, not really. I’m pretty sure that most people are in meetings or sitting around counting the minutes until lunch, so we should be safe.
As Sean pushes my legs apart and pulls my panties down from under my skirt, I stop caring if we get caught. He tosses the thin scrap of pink lace aside and slides his tongue along my thigh. I arch my back, enjoying the sensation of his cool tongue against my flushed skin.
Oh yes.
This is what I’ve been missing.
He reaches the top of my thigh, then pulls back and starts licking at the opposite knee, making his way back up. It feels hot and dirty and slutty and magical all at the same time, all mixed into one emotion. This time, as he glides up my body, he doesn’t stop when he reaches the top of my thigh.
This time, he dives into my pussy.
Sean’s tongue slides over my slit, probing into my soft folds, licking me from top to bottom. I’ve been gone down on before, sure, but never like this. Not ever like this before. He continues to lick me until I’m dripping wet for him, dying to feel him inside of me.
I lean back on my elbows and let my eyes fall shut, closing out the noise of the world, the brightness of the lights, the sound of my phone ringing again. Now the only sensation I feel is lust.
The only thing happening in the entire world is right here.
Sean.
Me.
His tongue.
My pussy.
“I need to come,” I beg, grabbing his hair with one hand, trying to pull him closer to me. Though he’s been soaking my body with his mouth, he hasn’t touched my clit. Not yet. And I need it. I need it, even just a little. Just a little bit and I’ll be over the edge.
Just a bit.
Please.
But he pushes my hand away and shakes his head, standing up.
“No,” he tells me, unbuckling his belt. “You’re going to come around my dick. I want to feel every shake, every quiver. I want to feel you unwind around me. I want to feel you break, Violet.”
I don’t say anything, still panting from the way he was touching me, but now aching with desire. He’s too far away from me. I need him closer. I need him near. I need him taking me from the inside out.
I need every inch of him.
And then he’s in me, and I feel his hand cover my mouth just before the scream threatens to leave my lips, just before my world explodes and I’m giving him everything he begged.
My pussy quivers and shakes with relief as I orgasm around his dick, allowing him to thrust deeper and deeper until I can’t tell where I am, who I am, or why I’m here.
I see stars.
My nails dig into his bag, piercing his skin, not caring if I hurt him as I experience the greatest pleasure I’ve ever felt.
I forget about everything going on in my life, every bad thought, every bad memory, every frustration. I’m completely lost in this moment.
Sean is the only one who has ever been able to make me lose my mind like this.
He’s the only one who can make me get lost in him.
A few minutes later, Sean is the one exploding into me, letting me be the one who satisfies his cravings. He thrusts forward, burying my mouth in a kiss as he comes, allowing himself to be completely mine, if only for this moment.
I don’t want it to end.
And not all good things have to.
10.
“Blue evening gown or slutty red clubbing dress?”
Amy just smirks at the question and leans back on my bed. She’s enjoying watching me squirm tonight. I've been staring at my closet for ages, attempting to pick out something that will showcase every curve. Sean's taking me to dinner and I want to knock his socks off.
I also don't want to look too easy.
“Hey, I called you over to help me pick out something to wear, not to laugh at me.”
Amy responds with a fit of giggles.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “I just can’t help it. Why are you so nervous about tonight? It’s just Sean.”
“I know, but it’s Sean. Amy, I don’t want to blow this. I almost have a couple of times. I really want it to work. He’s so…”
“Rich?”
I throw a pillow at her. Pregnancy be damned.
“Perfect. He’s kind, he’s generous, he’s real. He makes me feel really good about myself. He makes me feel sexy.”
“Good,” now she smiles. “You deserve to have someone make you feel that way, Vi. And, if I may add, you deserve to get to be the one to make him feel that way.”
I’m glad she said it. So many women only care about what they get out of a relationship instead of realizing that it’s a two-way street. While Sean makes me feel incredible, I need to make sure I’m returning the favor. I want him to leave our time together feeling like he can do anything, be anyone, go anywhere.
I want him to feel like he can soar.
I hold up the two dresses again and, after a few more minutes of internal debate, I put the red one back.
“Good choice,” Amy smiles. “I knew you’d make the right one.”
“What? You mean I should dress classy instead of like I’m going to pick up a couple of big, strong men to share my night with?”
“That’s exactly what I mean.”
I plop onto the bed next to my little sister and pat her belly.
“Any kicking yet?”
“Not yet. Still kinda early, though.”
“I want to be the first one to feel him kick.”
“Him?”
“Yeah, I have a feeling it’s going to be a boy,” I say.
“Why’s that?”
“Just a feeling.” Then I whisper, “Plus, Mom always wanted a boy.”
We both laugh, but it’s a thoughtful sort of laugh. Mom’s not going to be here to see her first grandchild. She’s not going to see Amy become the type of mother that she’d be proud of. She’s not going to be here to see me falling for a guy who actually respects, loves, and cares for me. She’s not going to be here to see Amy and Colby growing old together.
She’s missing a lot.
And we’re missing her a lot.
“Okay,” I say, standing up finally. “I can’t cry tonight. I don’t want to cry tonight, okay?”
“It’s going to be a good night,” Amy promises. She hands me my makeup bag and pushes me toward the bathroom, but not before I see her wipe away a couple of tears of her own.
11.
Sean picks me up at seven for dinner.
When he waltzes up to my house, he’s in a tux.
Yes, a real, honest-to-goodness-take-me-to-the-prom tux.
And damn. He makes it look good.
My mouth drops open when I see how it fits, perfectly highlighting each aspect of his body I love the most. His eyes shine against the emerald green vest; the jacket shows off his muscular shoulders. Before I even comment on his appearance, he lets out a low whistle.
“Damn, Vi.” He flashes me that boyish grin I’ve come to love so much, then offers me a bouquet of flowers.
“Maybe we are going to the prom after all,” I lift the roses to my face, taking in a long whiff of the fresh scent, then wave Sean inside. “Come on, I’ll put these in water before we go.”
He follows me into the kitchen, quietly
watching me while I roam around, finding the perfect vase, filling it up, adding plant food, then arranging the roses.
“What?” I ask. “You’re staring at me.”
“You’re beautiful, Violet.”
He’s said it before and I’m sure he’ll say it again, but tonight he says it in a way that I don’t really expect. This time, it's serious. It's not an offhanded remark. There's passion behind his comment and it's not just because he thinks I'm going to fall into bed with him if he says it. He means it.
“Thanks, Sean,” I place my hand on his cheek and he leans into my touch, letting me rub my hand over his soft five o’clock shadow that I love so much.
His lips are on me before I know what’s happening, reminding me exactly why I love this man so much. No one else can make me feel this way. No one else understands me, supports me, or stands up for me this way.
Only Sean.
He pulls away from me far too soon, leaving me wanting just a little bit more of his touch.
“Well, my Sweet, shall we go?” Playing the true gentleman, he holds his elbow out and waits for me to grab it before we head out the door. I shiver in the evening air and he stops outside the car to wrap his jacket around me.
“Wear this,” he murmurs, burying his face in my hair.
Then we glide into the car and head to the restaurant.
When I see where we’re going, I can’t help but laugh.
“Happy Chance Steakhouse,” I grin. “We had our first sort-of date here!”
“I think we had your Strongdelt interview here,” he responds quickly, but my heart beats a little bit faster knowing that we’re back at the place where it all started. Along with excitement, I suddenly feel just a little bit nervous.
Our first dinner here ended up in me drinking way too much, making a total fool of myself, and almost drowning in Sean’s bathtub.
What could go wrong tonight?
12.
When we arrive at the restaurant, the lights are off.
“Sean,” I say, as we walk toward the front door. “I think it’s closed.”
