![]() ![]() But she was also the manager, the lawyer and the HR at our tiny agency, which was still in its infancy, so everything had to be secret. When we were together it felt electric, my heartbeat thumping furiously. Sometimes first thing in the morning before anybody else arrived at the office, sometimes during a quick trip to the loo before nipping to Pret, sometimes once the last person had left for the day and it was just the two of us.Īll I wanted was to be with her full-time, and for it to be out in the open that we were together Our relationship gained a momentum of its own and before either of us realised, we were sleeping together every day. After several swift orgasms in the cubicle, we returned to the table and our unsuspecting cohort of colleagues. How could she go from practically never acknowledging my existence to pouncing on me? I felt vindicated in my feelings for her there must have been something there all along, she had just been very good at suppressing it. But several glasses of wine later, my mouth was on hers and she was pushing me against the bathroom wall, as we clumsily tumbled in a stall, fumbling with our belt buckles. I instantly assumed I must be getting the wrong end of the stick. ![]() Our team were out celebrating a victory signing, when I first felt her eyes on me from across the table. No odd winks or lingering favouritism, just an aloof air of power. I’d been at the company for around two years, working hard to secure advancements for myself all the while struggling to relax around her. The agency we worked for also represented her husband, an esteemed writer, so I knew I absolutely couldn’t go there.Įxcept one night, I did. She was 40 and had been married for 10 years, with three children under the age of 10. I’d moved to London and been in and out relationships and casual flings. I’d come out when I was 17 and been disowned by my parents. But I knew the cliché and I refused to succumb to the stereotype of being the young, ambitious 25-year-old who screws the boss. Usually never short of things to say, in her presence, I’d marvel at her ability to drain all quips from my mind, leaving my mouth bone-dry. Sitting in meetings with her at the prominent literary agency where we both worked left me feeling weak. Her hair, a lustrous brown, sat full-bodied above her collar bone, flirting with her shoulders every time she’d throw her hair back and laugh, which was often. It was alabaster, smooth like butter and translucent. The first thing I noticed about her was her skin. ![]()
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