The Guy in the Office Down the Hall

"The True Story of Saving a Marriage and Having Fun Doing It"

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Okay, let me set the stage. My name is Denise and I am thirty five. I am in relatively good shape for my age, tall, thin and with dark shoulder length black hair that curls at the ends, no matter what I do to try and straighten it. (Kind of like me — pretty much a conservative straight arrow, with a wicked uncontrollable twist, which my friends and my hubby hates!)

Okay, so you also know I am married. Very married. I would never cheat on my spouse, because I know better. Or do I? I have often found myself wondering if offered the opportunity, and no one but myself knew, would I succumb to a worldly desire for self-fulfillment, just for the pure fun of it? Almost always I have said I wouldn’t. Two weeks ago, after one of those little husband-wife spats that turned into me sleeping on the couch all night, I trembled as I had reached my peak. John and I used to have a very fulfilling sex life, but over the years it dwindled. He had gone through his “change of life” or whatever it is that men call it, but I hadn’t. I still craved sex—badly.

I have my own credit consulting business in a small office located in a multi-tenant building. I have the office all to myself, except when work demands I bring in a temp employee to help with the work load. I like working alone, because I can get more done that way.

Robert worked in the same multi-tenant office as myself. I only knew him in passing. He was a tall guy, standing about 6’ 4″ and was weight proportional. He had an engaging smile, but beyond that, I didn’t know much else about him. He was a relatively quiet guy, except for his “good morning” and “have a great day” salutations.

I wasn’t attracted to Robert, but for some off reason, we connected about the same time I was getting tired of sleeping on the couch. I wasn’t in a particularly good mood as I slipped my office key into the key slot of my office door. Robert’s cheerily belted out “Good morning!”, as he walked up behind me, startling me. I did my best to pleasantly respond. Before I could do so, Robert apologized.

“I’m sorry,” I replied back, “had a rough night.”

“Completely understandable,“ Robert acknowledged as he walked on past me. I quickly glanced in his direction, my hand on my office door knob. Robert glanced back in my direction over my shoulder.

Our eyes met for only a brief second. I quickly slipped into my office, embarrassed by the fact that I thought he had caught me checking him out. I don’t why I felt so embarrassed. I wasn’t looking for a hookup. I sat down in my office chair. I stared at my blank computer screen for the longest time. Then I did something totally out of character. I got up and walked down the hall to where Robert had an office. The door was open. I stepped into the doorway and Robert looked up from his computer.

“Can I ask you a question?” I bluntly blurted out.

“Sure,” Robert replied, looking up at me from behind his computer.

“Are you married?” I asked. Damn. What was I doing? I couldn’t believe the words fell out of my mouth.

“Divorced,” Robert replied. He sat back in his chair and looked at me. “What about you?”

Damn. I should have turned and walked off, but I didn’t. I couldn’t. My legs felt like noodles.

“Heading that way if something doesn’t change,” I remarked.

What was I saying? What the hell was I doing? I didn’t even know this guy and I was telling him my deepest feelings less than thirty seconds after stepping into his office doorway. Maybe this was the draw: I felt safe because he didn’t know me and couldn’t judge me.

“That doesn’t sound like fun,” Robert replied. “Do you want to talk about it over some coffee?”

Double damn. He wanted to talk with me. I was a married woman and I knew the rule. Never socialize with other men outside of the presence of your significant other. Damn the rules.

“Sure,” I replied, excited about the possibility of finding someone who appeared interested in hearing me out. Screw the hubby. I had a person that was willing to listen to me.

We slipped into the break room, and as Robert made us some coffee, I spilled my guts. College degreed. Married to my college sweet heart for fifteen years. Happy. Two kids. Good job. I have my own car – a BMW. I have my own house and run my own business.

Robert poured the coffee into two cups as I rattled on.

“Cream?” he asked.

“Yes,”

“Sugar?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Sex?”

“Yes,” I dutifully replied without realizing what he had just asked.

“A lot?” he pressed.

Suddenly, it dawned on me what he had just asked. I chuckled out loud.

“You’re smooth,” I said.

“I try to be,” he replied.

“Yes,” I replied, “We have sex. Not like we used to, but we have sex.”

Robert silently stirred the condiments in each cup and then handed me one of them. I took a sip from coffee at the same time that he did. He looked at me from behind the rim of his coffee cup.

“You look like you still have it going on,” Robert said, setting his coffee cup on the granite table top of the coffee room.

“Thanks,” I replied. “I look fine on the outside, but on the inside, I am conflicted.”

“We all get that way,” Robert replied. “Sometimes, we have to take a step back and re-evaluate a few things.”

I couldn’t have agreed any more.

“So, what happens if you take a mini-vacation?” Robert asked.

I was lost. The question caught me totally off guard.

“I’m lost,” I replied.

“Maybe all you need is some time away from the routine,” Robert advised.

Kids. I could not leave my kids. They needed me to be at home.

“I’m not suggesting you leave your kids,” Robert replied. John and Sarah were good kids. They most certainly didn’t like the conflicts at home. One can not hide much from a ten-year old and a twelve-year old.

“Tell them you’re going on a business trip,” Robert suggested.

“And my husband?” I pressed.

“Tell him you need a few days to sort through some things,” Robert instructed. I stayed quiet, mulling things over in my mind. What he was telling me made good sense. I needed to think a few things through.

Robert was a smooth guy. His advices seemed right on target. I needed some time away and to think things through.

“Do you have a place to go?” he asked.

That was a problem for me, I acknowledged. My husband knew all of my friends and I was sure he would pester them looking for me. I needed a clean break without him looking for me.

“I have a couch,” Robert proffered.

I chuckled out loud.

“I just met you,” I replied.

“But you know where I work, so I doubt you will find me disappearing,” Robert shot back. He quickly added, “It’s your call.”

For whatever reason, I didn’t see Robert as a threat. In fact, he was quite nice and appeared quite charming in an odd sort of way. I took in a deep breath and forcibly exhaled. I was in uncharted territory. I was leaning up against the counter top, standing right next to Robert, when he slipped his hand into mine.

“Look,” Robert said, as I looked down at our hands. “No pressure. You can do whatever you want to do.”

That last statement had a profound effect on me. I could do whatever I wanted to do. I had been trapped in a marriage where I was expected to confirm to norms, to do certain things and to take on certain tasks. Robert was now telling me, I could do whatever I wanted to do. A sudden feeling of relief swept over me and I started to cry.

“I love my family,” I said as tears streamed down my face, Robert holding on to my hand.

“I know you do,” Robert replied. “That’s why you need some time alone. You need to regroup.”

I agreed. I was emotionally vulnerable. I knew it. Robert knew it. I wanted to hate him, because I felt like he was taking advantage of me, but truth be told, I needed some time away and I needed to reconnect with someone who would not be judgmental one moment and then want to take me to bed the next. I hated that with a passion.

“Can we get out of here?” I pressed.

“Sure,” Robert replied.

I told him I needed to grab the computer from the office, since my husband had a key to the office and I knew he might come looking for it and me.

We headed to Robert’s place. I was intentionally quiet on the trip. I didn’t know what to expect or how my husband might take my absence for a few days. I called him, knowing he would not answer his cell, since he was out on a work assignment. I left a brief message, explaining that I was going to take a few days to get myself together and asking him to explain to the kids that I was on an extended business trip. I knew he would not like my decision, but I really didn’t care at that point.

“Are you okay?” Robert asked.

“I’ll be better,” I replied, “once we get somewhere where I can lay down and just rest.”

Robert shook his head in silent agreement. I closed my eyes. Robert slipped his hand across the seat divide and on to my leg. I was emotionally drained. His reassuring pat on my leg was a nice touch, a touch I missed, a touch John had not made in years.

I said Robert was a smooth guy. He really was. He knew how to entice me. Again, I wanted to ignore his subtle attempts to win me over and seduce me, but I couldn’t. Secretly, I wanted to be seduced, something my husband had failed to do many times over. The art of seduction is lost on a lot of married guys and my John, was no exception.

Robert had a nice bachelor pad style apartment. I have to admit, I was pleasantly surprised, because most single guys that I have known, were not “neat freaks.” I’m not saying Robert was a “neat-freak,” but his apartment was very well kept, the dirty towel on the bathroom floor, excepted.

I asked Robert if he minded if I could crash on his bed.

“Go for it,” he replied.

I kicked off my cowboy boots and settled on to his bed, face-down. I crossed my arms and form a cradle for my head.

Robert disappeared into his bathroom and closed the door. I could hear the water filling his bath tub and I figured he was simply going to take a bath. The sound of the water lulled me into a sleep. I wasn’t sleep very long.

“Get undressed,” Robert whispered as he slipped on to the bed beside me and placed his hand on my shoulder. My mind raced. What the hell? I was startled at his suggestion.

“I made you a hot bath,” Robert said, standing up beside the bed. He headed for the bedroom door, opened it and slipped silently beyond the threshold, closing the door behind him. I lay there, kind of shocked and surprised. No one had ever prepared a hot bath for me, ever. Not even my husband.

I undressed and slipped into the bathroom. I slipped into the bath-bombed foamy water of the tub. Oh my God! I thought I was in heaven. I closed my eyes. I couldn’t stop crying for the longest time.

There was a tap on the bathroom door. Oh shit. I hoped I was well covered with the foam. To late. Robert slipped the door open and peered around the edge of it and right at me.

“How are we doing in here?” he asked.

“Doing great,” I replied.

He started to close the door.

“No!” I exclaimed, before I knew what I was saying. Robert peered back around the door edge at me.

“Come in,” I beckoned.

“Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied, pulling some of the foam over my chest and slipping down in the water so that it lapped at my chin. I was literally in unchartered water. “Why?” I asked.

“Why what?” Robert replied.

“Why are you so nice?” I pressed.

“Just doing my part to help out,” Robert replied as he stood in the doorway.

“Fuck that,” I replied. “I know your game.”

Robert looked confused.

“Look,” I replied. “I know you like me. I know you want to fuck me.”

Robert stood in silence, unsure of what to say or do. I was uncontrollable at this point. I needed a man. I needed Robert.

“Fuck me,” I blurted out. “Just take me and fuck me, fuck me hard. Do whatever you want to me.”

Robert stepped backwards as my words bounced off the walls. He looked literally shocked.

I pushed the foamy covering away from me and quickly stood up. The water cascaded off my naked body. Robert stood stone-faced, unsure of what to do, as I quickly stepped out of the tub.

“Look shit head,” I said, naked and unafraid. “I need a man, a real man. I need a guy who cares about me and for me. I need a good fuck. You do want to fuck, right?”

“Y -Y- Yes,” Robert stammered out, as he attempted to unfasten his button-down shirt.

“Fuck it,” I exclaimed, pulling Robert’s shirt over his head. I couldn’t be contained. I wouldn’t be contained and in seconds, I had my man Robert, stripped naked. I was all over him.

Robert treated me like a queen. He was deliberate in his touches and yet soft. He didn’t manhandle me or make demands, which made me want to please him even more. This was not a “wham-bam-thank-you” love-making session, but truly an experience unlike anything I had ever engaged in. When he went down on me, it was surreal the things he could do with his tongue and his fingers. I couldn’t hold back, and I didn’t hold back. I could scream in ecstasy and not worry about the kids hearing me.

Robert was a delightful change from the same-old, same-old. His cut manhood was a delight to inspect. He was a little larger than John and I worried whether or not I might be able to accommodate the width and length of his tool, but when it came time to do it, I was simply amazed as his gentleness and my ability to easily accommodate him.

Oh my God! I thought for sure I was in a dream, as he slowly worked his tool in and out of me, sending me into a convulsive like state. I dug my fingers into his massive shoulders. He stared deep into my eyes and I did the same in return. He had deep green eyes.

“Give it to me,” I pleaded.

The corners of his mouth curled into a smile.

“Kiss me,” he pleaded.

Gladly. Oh damn! That did it. I was gone at that point. I could feel him filling me up as we kissed. That was the last thing I remembered until I woke up lying beside him, one leg thrown across him, my head resting in the crook of his neck and one hand resting on his chest.

Instinctively, I whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he replied.

I had never before expressed such a deep feeling for another man outside of John. I was afraid and happy, at the very same time. I was afraid I was losing my life-long love for my soul mate while happy that I had found someone who was both passionate and not judgmental.

Robert and I lay there in silence for the longest time.

“You know,” Robert finally said after a few minutes, “You are married to a good guy. He is lucky to have you.”

“I know,” I replied. “I just wish he would show it.”

Robert gently stroked my arm.

“He will,” Robert replied. “Just give him time.”

“But what about you and us?” I asked.

Robert stayed quiet for a moment.

“We’ve still got a few days of fun,” he replied. I chuckled.

“You’re a great lover,” I told Robert.

“You’re pretty damn good yourself,” he replied.

I asked Robert if he minded that I called John.

“Not at all,” he replied, reaching across the bed and grabbing my cell phone from the night stand beside the bed.

I called John. He was not a happy camper. I told him I understood and that I’d be back home in a few days. He demanded I come home right away. I told him I needed a few days away to clear my head. He wanted to know where I was and began to query me as to where I might be. I reassured him I was in a safe place. He asked if I was cheating on him, which I quickly denied.

Robert gently massaged my bare shoulder as I talked with John. He then gently moved his hand down to my left breast and circled my nipple with his finger-tips. My nipple immediately hardened at Robert’s touch. Damn.

“I have to go,” I told John. John wanted to keep talking. I told him I’d call him later and to kiss the kids for me. I could tell he was not a happy guy. I hit the end-call feature and tossed the phone on to the nightstand beside the bed, as Robert gently kissed the backside of my bare shoulder.

“You don’t give up, do you?” I asked.

“No,” Robert pressed, as he pulled me in closer to where he lay naked and uncovered beside me. “Do you want me to give up?

I chuckled.

“Not at all,” I replied. “Not at all.”

 

Post-script. John and I reconciled. John eventually met Robert but never knew he was the savior for our marriage. It’s been a while since I have even thought about Robert and what transpired. I try not too, because the temptation drives me crazy. I was just combing my long hair and it curled up at the ends. I guess some things never change.

 

Published 7 years ago

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