On the gray morning after they had chatted at work, Paul passed by Marjorie’s desk oddly cheerful.
“Good morning, Marjorie!” he said with a wave. “It’s a great day to have a great day, isn’t it?”
His greeting pulled her attention from the spreadsheet of financial disclosures on her computer screen. She was surprised by his mood. Her head fell to the side, confused, and her eyes squinted in thought and interest.
But she answered: “You know it is.”
He was never this upbeat during the workweek. He was usually serious—or whining about work.
She suddenly had an ally in attitude—a coworker who didn’t complain constantly. It was a blessing among all the grumpy butts. Marjorie determined to learn the why of this change.
At the end of the workday yesterday, she was able to hang out with him—if even for a quick walk out of the building to the parking garage. Then they went their separate ways.
Pondering this new man this morning, Marjorie watered her peace lily by the window.
She liked him. He was nice and certainly inquisitive yesterday. Their chat began because she had mentioned meeting Leo, a principal associate at another competing firm, at a downtown party. His questions to her about going out, where, and with whom were unexpected. Yet, he talked with her. He seemed interested in who she was, which made her happy. Simply said, she enjoyed it. They were like fast friends. No one else in the office was that way toward her.
Across the low-rise cubicle walls, all she could see was the top of Paul’s head. He was focused on his work—maybe trudging through unread emails or prepping for the morning’s meeting.
She liked his auburn hair, with swishes of natural chestnut brown. He kept it in a wavy, tapered style, giving a sense of coolness—a trait she found attractive in men.
She also noticed his ears. Large but cute. Tuggable.
Paul moved his eyeglasses to the top of his head as he refocused on something.
Suddenly, Marjorie realized her lily was swimming in its tiny pot.
“Oh, I’m sorry, baby,” she murmured to the lily. “I lost my mind.”
Marjorie dried up the slight drainage on the shelf and around the pot. She left a piece of paper towel, folded squarely, underneath the plant to soak up any other seepage.
Before sitting in her ergonomic desk chair, she glanced one more time at Paul. He remained focused on his work.
Tossed over the cubicle wall, he had a plaid navy sport coat. The coat hanging limply and the mere top of Paul’s head: She liked the pairing—Navy and dark brown.
“He’s better looking than I realized.” Her eyebrows raised briefly. The corner of her mouth curled upward.
Marjorie forced herself into the chair and attended to the day’s work, especially as the 10 a.m. meeting would eat up much of her morning.
Eat up. The words brought to mind snacks. The kitchen on their floor of the office often had free snacks—pastries. Even if they were gone, she would have to pass near Paul’s desk.
“Hi, Paul,” she said, coming up to him.
Paul straightened up, surprised by the visit to his cubicle.
“Marjorie! You startled me.”
“My face isn’t that monstrous, is it?” She placed her chin on her hands and fluttered her eyes humorously.
“No, no monster, trust me,” he said, waving off his comment. “I just didn’t expect to see you over here.”
She rested her arms on the cubicle wall and glanced around. “I guess I don’t come to see you much. Today’s different though, right?”
He shrugged.
She scanned his work area, and he must have noticed.
“It’s not so organized as your workstation.” He turned his chair toward the browned, depressed plant and his trashcan filled with balled-up printouts and more around it on the floor. “I live a, er, less clean life.”
She giggled spritely. “At least you’re upfront about it. A lot of people hide how they live.” She grinned. “Anyway, I’m going to the kitchen. Can I get you something?”
“I got my coffee. The bagels and Danishes are gone.” He shrugged. “The early birds were here really early—Got the good ones like usual.”
Marjorie pursed her mouth, disappointed at his response.
“If I find something good, I’ll grab it for you.” She gave a quick wave.
Walking away, she thought she heard him mumble about grabbing something. She feared his morning’s good mood had already soured.
Paul was right though. The early birds had eaten the best pastries, and the second wave of hungry employees had picked over the rest, leaving crumbs. Going back to her desk with black coffee, she didn’t talk to Paul.
At ten minutes to 10, Marjorie sat at the long meeting table, rummaging through personal emails on her smartphone. She reminded herself that she needed to send her new client, Paula, the free stimulator that was her gift for showing up at last night’s online sales get-together. She had also purchased the male masturbator. Marjorie needed to add a friendly note to the gift box.
Marjorie scribbled down the to-do, messy enough so no one could read it.
She squealed.
“My goodness!” She patted her chest.
Paul had tapped her shoulder.
“I didn’t mean to scare you. I’m not that monstrous, am I?” Paul said.
“No, no. I was just …” She put her hand over the note.
“Writing down secrets?”
“… not expecting you.”
“When I’m having a great day, it’s smartest to be by the others who are having a great day.” Paul smiled.
“I’m glad you thought of me.” She turned the chair next to her toward him.
“Who else is there but you?”
His cologne was comely. The scent was leather, reminding her of her father’s assortment of belts handing in his closet that she liked to sniff as a little girl.
“You smell nice,” she said.
He didn’t have a chance to respond except with a smile and a wink. The executive, who was heading up the meeting, had entered. As always, she began the meeting immediately.
During the presentations, Marjorie peeked subtly at his hands. The thickness of his fingers, trimmed clean nails, large knuckles—the second one especially—veins coursing across the top of his hand. She was head over heels about his hands—a part of a man she always loved.
With another glimpse, she thought he might have more hobbies than tapping a corporate, in-office keyboard.
Fixing up old cars. Woodworking. A regular at the gym.
A thought shot through her mind. Whatever his hobbies, he certainly did one thing she would like to watch. He did it alone, at night, likely. And it left him feeling good and relieved.
Another exciting thought hit her. He might want a little toy to help him too.
A new client, Paula, had registered for such a toy last night. Paula came out of the blue. She was shy—No camera and no talking. By party’s end, she had ordered, of all things for a woman, a male masturbator. She was probably thinking of her husband or boyfriend, since she was getting the clit stimulator for free.
Then Marjorie pulled her attention from Paul and his hands. Puzzle pieces came together oddly.
Paula. Paul.
His sudden questions and comments last night about Tupperware parties.
Yesterday, asking about her plans that night.
She brushed off this forming theory. There was no way he could know about her side job. She kept it quiet. No one knew.
Concerning to her, though, their conversation began because she had mentioned Leo. Paul had appeared at her desk to talk about it. He was awkward but asked directly.
What if he was attempting to undermine her credibility with the company? Expose her colluding with a competitor. Investigating, trying to infiltrate. Playing an amateur private eye.
Did he want her fired?
He would get nothing from it. They did different jobs and she was not on a higher rung on the corporate ladder.
Anyway, she eased her chair away from him and attended to the ongoing meeting.
At its conclusion, Paul stretched. “Long meeting, but I am not complaining. These are comfortable chairs.”
Marjorie chuckled. “You’re working hard to keep that good attitude.”
“It’s worth it.”
For the rest of the day, her mind bounced between him being a happier man and a snitch. However, instead of living in fear, she decided the conspiracy was too out there. All a coincidence.
Later that day, Marjorie stopped by his messy cubicle with the wilted plant.
“You doing all right?” she asked.
He turned from his computer screen.
“I sure am.”
“Really?” she said with a dab of distrust.
“I had a great night. I’m ready to handle anything and everything. I decided to have a great day,” Paul said.
Marjorie grinned. “I love to see that!”
“I think you’ll see it more now,” he said.
“I hope to.” She waved and turned to leave. But she stopped.
“I don’t have time right now, but I’d like to know what happened last night that impacted you so much.”
“You do, really?” His hands did a rap-tap-tap on his thighs.
She glanced at his big hands.
“Are you free tonight for a little happy hour?” she asked.
His mouth spread wide. “Are you asking me out?”
She pursed her lips. “Not like that. I want to take you out so I can hear more about your evening that has, as you say, changed how you live.”
He frowned. “If it’s not a date, then …”
She put her hands on her hips. “Then what?”
“I’m only teasing. I’d be glad to go.”
An hour later, they were sipping drinks at Pantheon, a bright, airy bar. Other people were chatting and laughing. A waitress rushed by with a charcuterie board and a bottle of wine.
Paul had pushed to go to Harkenrider’s, but Marjorie told him it was too dark and gave off bad vibes.
After a dainty sip through a straw, Marjorie set down her tall berry coolie. “So tell me about the ‘new’ you.”
He set aside his beer and clasped his hands like he was in prayer. “I just saw the world in a new light. Saw things I hadn’t seen before, and I loved it.”
She noticed his auburn eyes. They lingered longer on her than usual. From her eyes, to her nose, then to her chin and down her neck, ending on her shirt collar.
The next words just came out of her mouth in anger. “Are you trying to instigate something?”
“What?” His clasped hands fell apart and dropped to the table.
“I just went to the party, you know,” she defended, “and Leo happened to be there. A coincidence.”
“Marjorie, Marjorie.” He touched her balled-up fists. “Calm down. There’s nothing to worry about—”
She pulled back her fists and pulled them tight against her body. “I don’t have anything to hide. Don’t attempt to paint me as some insider.”
Paul backed up in his seat, confusion written on his face. “What are you talking about? Who is Leo?”
“Who is Leo!” Fire sparked in her tone. “You asked me all about him, about our meeting. The investigation you put me under at my desk yesterday.”
“You mean that guy from— Ha! He’s a joke. Doesn’t actually have the experience to do his job right.” Paul waved him off. “And me investigating you?”
Marjorie remained defensive with stiff shoulders and sharp eyes. “Yeah, your questions, you poking around. Being fake friendly.” She then shouted, “It’s all bullshit. You’re shit!”
All eyes in the bar turned to stare them. An HGTV host was the only one left talking.
Marjorie was too tense to notice. Her face was red and her teeth gritted.
Paul shifted and set his arm on the back of his chair to be cool and play off her explosion. “I’ve never seen this angry side of you before.”
Marjorie didn’t cool down.
He slowly shifted forward. He spoke softly and calmly. “I only asked because, well …”
“Well what?” She nearly spat out the question.
“I hate to say it, but I never thought of you, um, at a party.”
Marjorie was silent. She tried to process his statement. The tension in her face and shoulders melted. She was confused.
“About me going out?” she said slowly.
“Yeah. I apologize. You just come across so … so … I don’t know … proper? Innocent? … not one who, er … like, a girl who prefers staying home—playing piano.” Now his face flushed with embarrassment. “It’s a bad—a terrible assumption.”
Marjorie’s face melted again into a frown. “Like I have no friends?”
“Friends, yes. Certainly friends, no doubt. But friends who go to parties, no. I mean, have you ever been drunk before? My guess is no.”
She was quiet, only glancing briefly at the fruity drink.
“I wasn’t even sure you’d ever—” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have.”
She spoke calmly. Yet she was flustered and uneasy. “Shouldn’t have what?”
“It’s not something I should ever say to a coworker—especially nowadays and being a man.” He wrapped his hand around his beer glass but didn’t lift it.
She looked at his hand again, like she had throughout the day. The knuckles and the fingernails.
“Tell me,” she said bluntly.
He hesitated but eventually answered. “Until last night, I wasn’t sure you had ever …”
“Thought I was a virgin?”
His head barely nodded.
“What about this ‘until last night’?” Then she halted. She gasped loudly. Her chair screeched as she scooted back.
“Hold on.” She almost hissed the words. “What were you doing last night, Paul? Or should I say ‘Paula’!”
The man before her said nothing. She saw his face and neck flushed cherry red.
“You saw me.” Her voice cracked. “You saw me with—And you bought—”
He didn’t respond with words, but his eyes screamed his affirmation.
Marjorie shaded her eyes with her hand.
She twisted sideways in the chair away from him. Now she felt her face and neck flush cherry red.
“This was supposed to be a secret. No one should know,” she mumbled to herself.
“You were so hot,” he whispered. “I was amazed.”
She uncovered her eyes. “How did you find out?”
“My friend’s girlfriend bought some stuff.” He spoke like a little boy fessing up to a lie to his angry mother. “He took pictures of the host off the screen. He sent them to me.”
“And it was me,” she said softly and blandly.
The pair was silent. Marjorie slid forward. Her arms—up to her shoulders—were under the table. She was unconsciously hiding from the guy who had seen all of her. Paul still was leaned back in his chair, putting space between him and her.
Marjorie nibbled her lip.
He itched his cheek.
He then heaved a deep breath. “I loved it.”
“Loved it?” she said weakly, a lump in her throat.
“Amazing, Marj, amazing.”
Her sad face didn’t change, but there was a swirl of excitement in her stomach by hearing the compliment.
“I mean hearing you say those words … I couldn’t …”
“Words. Talking about toys?”
“And what you like—Watching men masturbate.”
She noticed his Adam’s apple move down and then up.
“Oh, god, why?” She stared at the crossbars in the open ceiling that were painted black.
“Don’t worry, Marj. I’ll keep the secret. No one else will know. I swear.”
She shook her head, still not meeting his eyes. “Yeah, but what will I owe you to keep silence?”
“Nothing,” he said, confused. “Did you expect me to take advantage?”
“You have the upper hand. You could hold it against me.”
“If you’d ever watch me …” He stopped and tried to chuckle.
“It’s not the right time.”
“To watch?”
“No, to make jokes.”
“Sorry, no more jokes.” He paused briefly. “I feel really bad. I’ll finish this and head home.”
He drank the rest of his beer. “Can I at least say hi at work tomorrow? I know we’re in a really awkward spot—really, really.” He scratched the back of his head.
“Don’t leave yet.” She touched his hand that was cool from the beer. She spoke as if she had just run a marathon. “I might as well give you the toys in person. And what are you going to do with the stimulator?”
“Could I get one that suits me better?” His eyebrows crinkled. “Not a joke. I’ll, I’ll pay for it.”
She exhaled, her chest compressing.
“Sure, I guess. I have the Bill 2 in stock at home. An anal massager. It’s a good one for guys.”
She noticed his mouth curl in subdued delight. She had said another word.
But he changed the subject.
“It comes with instructions, I assume. I’ve never used one before.”
“Ah, so you’re a virgin.”
He gave her a smirk. “So we both are.”
She huffed and rolled her eyes. “Let’s get them so we can get over this.”
“Can’t you bring them to work?”
“Again, wrong time for jokes.”
“Marj,” he said, “we’re going to have to get over this. We can’t be awkward, or we will never be friends. We know. It’s a fact.”
She shrugged.
He ran his fingers through his hair, like he always did. She admitted to herself that he was handsome. A tiny smile broke the frown on her face.
“If anyone in the office should know, it’s best that it’s you,” she said.
She jotted down her address in her cursive penmanship. “Meet at my place. Let’s make it a quick transaction.”
She straightened up her apartment before he arrived. She folded the blanket over the couch, stacked her junk mail in a neat pile, moved the two coffee cups from the sink to the dishwasher, lit a lilac-scented candle.
When he arrived, she offered him a seat on the couch.
“I’ll get the toys,” she said flatly, hoping to get this over with.
“Wait.” He reached toward her. “Will you say what kind of toys they are?”
She noticed his puppy-dog face with a twinge of horniness that was so obvious in men.
She leaned toward him. She emphasized each word. “Let me get the sex toys for you. A male masturbator and an anal massager.”
His eyes closed as if he had just smelled wild lilacs in a glorious meadow.
Seeing him like that, she shuffled slowly and swayed her hips all the way to the hall closet. Knowing his eyes were on her, she kept pulling out toys and pushing them back into place, so he could see that she had plenty of fun in the house.
She returned with a black box in each hand.
“Here you go. I’ll give you Bill for free. It’s an easier transaction—one for one.”
“I prefer paying. I like to support woman-owned businesses.”
She gave him a dull look. “Seriously, take it.”
“Marj, tell me.” He patted the cushions. “Is this … is this where you were sitting last night on the video?”
“Why?”
“I just … I just want to know.”
As if giving candy to a little boy who had begged for it, she acknowledged it was. “Yes, I always sit there. It has the best light and …”
She watched his palms rub the cream fabric in circles and figure-eights. He seemed to be touching any remnants of what might be left there.
“Right here,” he mumbled.
“Yep, right there.”
He slid his palms down the legs of his slacks, as if nervous.
That’s when she noticed his pants were tightened uncomfortably.
He didn’t speak but seemed to be soaking in an ambience in her living room.
“I’m, like, behind the scenes of a movie, on the set of a fantasy.” He wasn’t talking to anyone but only stating it aloud. “A scene that I loved.”
She sat on the arm of the couch, studying him. “Are you okay? You’re being overly dramatic.”
His eyes then had a spark of coherence. He grabbed one black box from the coffee table. However, his fingers only fiddled with the packaging, unable to open it.
She gently took the box. With her other hand, she placed her palm on his forehead, as if checking for a fever.
“Obviously your mind isn’t here right now.”
She slid the top from the box. She removed the long massager as well as the instructions foldout. “It’s pretty easy to learn. These aren’t complicated devices.”
Then Paul changed the subject. His question was abrupt.
“How many parties do you do regularly?”
She stuttered a reply. “A few a week—three. No more than four.”
“Do you get naked for all of them?”
Her back stiffened, embarrassed. She remembered all he had seen.
“Um, not all, no.”
“So I saw a special one?”
She set the massager on the table. “Special because I …”
“Do you actually really like watching guys jerk off?” he asked softly.
She nibbled her lip, mulling over that question. His eyes were obviously rapt with arousal.
She leaned close.
“Yes.”
“How are my hands?” He spread out his fingers.
“I’ve been admiring them all day.” She weaved her spindly fingers between his thick ones.
His other hand cupped her butt.
She put her lips next to his ear. “Can I watch you?” she whispered.
“Watch me what?” he whispered back, with a jitter in his voice.
“I want to watch you stroke your cock until I see your hand covered in cum. Do it all for me.”
In a moment, his slacks and boxers were at his knees. Standing erect and excited was his dick.
Marjorie wasn’t so much impressed with his cock as much as Paul’s manly hand wrapped around it and stroking up and down.
Her throat constricted, and her voice fluttered like his had moments before.
“God, that looks good.” She patted her chest.
Paul sloshed into the back cushion, giving an unfettered view of his moving hand.
Marjorie felt her body heat up. Her nipples hardened and her moistened pussy urged her fingers to play.
Trying to withhold, her eyes remained locked on him, scanning from his knees to his bared stomach. Her eyes always returned to his hand quickly. Her restraint faltered, though, when he grunted and his face winced in increasing pleasure.
She pushed back the coffee table. On her knees before him, she became like a little girl hoping to play with a favorite toy. She reached forward. However, she pulled back her hand. To stop her reach, she nibbled on her fingernail. Her body was boiling over. The world around was blurring. He became the only visible object while the rest of her vision blackened.
He suddenly halted his strokes. At that time, her blacked-out vision was again in full view.
“Don’t stop,” Marjorie blurted. “Come on.”
“I want to see you too,” he said in a taxed voice.
It was a fair deal. Marjorie unbuttoned her blouse and shed her pants. She was left in a bra and panties.
“You look so good,” he complimented. “You don’t know how fast I came when you were on screen.”
Nothing more needed to be said. She took off her small, white panties and tossed them onto his face.
She sat on the coffee table just feet away from him. “I want to spread my pussy open so you can see.”
“See in real life,” he added, as a side note.
“Yes, in real life. You may even touch it, touch my pussy.”
“Oh, shit!”
His hand jerked into a blur.
Marjorie unfolded her sparkling wet outer lips, revealing a lavish pinkness. She opened her legs further to slide two fingers inside. When drawn out, they glistened in the light. She spread them apart, and there were strands of sticky gloss connecting them.
The muscles in Paul’s forearms contracted because of the speed of his hand running over his dick.
“I love it,” Marjorie announced. “This gets me so hot. I want to fuck myself when I see it.”
She jammed her fingers into her pussy deeply. “I want to see you get off.” She thrust fast into herself. “Cover your hand in cum! Release! Shoot! For me!” she screamed out.
Hearing a hoarse howl, Marjorie witnessed the first shot of cum rocket up. It landed on his stomach and the second and third releases drizzled onto his large, red hand.
Marjorie braced herself on the coffee table as the mere sight of a man’s cum tickled her toes. Those tickles, though, transformed into torpedoes that attacked her. She was caught in orgasmic explosions of colorful confetti and birthday balloons.
She moved to the couch beside her guest before she fell off the short table.
His fingers were still wrapped around his dick. She smiled at seeing the thick globs of cum on his hand—the hands which she had first noticed during the meeting that morning.
Paul was smiling. He had exploded too.
“Paul.” She nudged him. “Paul, babe.”
He turned his head.
“You wanted to touch me, didn’t you? To feel the real thing. Now’s your chance—one chance.”
He smeared his gooey hand on the back of her thigh as she climbed up to straddle his face.
Lowering herself, she realized he had a long, fluttering tongue. It swept her sensitive pussy. Her butt squeezed together in reaction.
“Damn,” she said as if touching a red-hot pan. Yet, she lowered herself slowly, prepping for another glorious attack.
Soon she was swooning. Her hips shifted, moving her wet lips from his chin to the bridge of his nose.
“Yes, Paul, Paul, you deserve me. I am giving you that great day. I am keeping you—”
Her words paused as did her body. Confetti and balloons exploded again.
She could only rest her forearms on the back bar of the couch.
Paul’s hands slithered to her hips and eased her down.
She yipped when the crown of his dick bumped her sensitive pussy.
“Been on a ride before?” he said softly.
“Not on yours. Take me on it.”
His dick entered smoothly with their slipperiness. She held onto the couch for life. He thrust and their bodies slapped for a moment or two. Nevertheless, they were weak and worn out.
Later, gaining some strength, Paul shuffled her legs off him.
“You going?” Marjorie asked, while still laid out.
“Planning to.”
“Sleep over. In my bed.” She reached out her hands, fluttering her fingers toward him for help.
Soon they were cuddled under her puffy, white comforter.
Waking before him, she tiptoed to the couch and grabbed a black box. She then slid under the comforter. His dick was hard. She slid the male masturbator over it and let it work its magic.
Paul began to twist, to spread his knees, groan, and thrust lightly. Watching from under the blanket, she placed her warm hand on his inner thigh. A moment more and he unloaded again. She patted her hands.
His hand slid over her smooth butt.
“Giving head this early?” he asked groggily.
“No. Making sure you know your purchases are worth the money.”
“They are, they are. I still need help with the massager though.”
“If we can keep this whole thing a secret.”
“What whole thing? I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Good.”
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