A little flirting while at work doesn’t hurt anyone. Rachel was wickedly naughty and the emails that would be sent back and forth each evening were quite amusing and titivating. As I mentioned before she was experienced in areas I certainly wasn’t and she had a way with words. I learned a lot about her preferences, fantasies and past encounters from the emails I would receive.

Rachel didn’t need much encouragement, I soon learned a lot about her wicked ways. She was into BDSM, she was submissive and she was definitely a free spirit. I found her stories fascinating, I was naturally inquisitive, which soon turned to curious and dangerously flirtatious. The emails would certainly make me blush.

If I try to think about my mental state back then I would easily describe it as a surreal detachment. While I was at work living in cloud cuckoo land with Rachel I would forget about the fact that I was cohabiting with my now ex-girlfriend and the multitude of arguments that typically awaited every night. Katy and I couldn’t go more than a couple of days without starting on each other over something. I was equally, if not more so to blame. I was hurting and she was unapologetic. So I would try to even the score, I wanted her to hurt as much as she’d hurt me.

I suppose that’s why I encouraged the surreal detachment, over the course of about two weeks Rachel and I had reached the dangerously flirty level. I remember thinking that it was all just very risqué banter, that due to my obviously complex situation and our twenty year age gap that nothing would ever happen. Not to mention that we were colleagues with absolutely nothing in common than our sexuality.

We were working the four to midnight shift and although I had only been working there a few short months I had become proficient enough to be something akin to the technical specialist on shift. If any of the guys got stuck taking support calls they would come to me for advice, network checks etc. Next thing I know Rachel is sat beside me with her notepad in hand coyly asking for my assistance, personal space optional. She leaned over me as I showed her information on my screen and next thing I’m aware of is her hand moving up my thigh. I think my eyes nearly popped out of my head, but I composed myself rather quickly and dismissed her and her technical query and saw to the next person in the queue.

Rachel had a colourful past that included a current driving ban, she relied on other colleagues to provide her a lift to and from work. Conveniently one evening she couldn’t find a lift home, I lived ten miles in the opposite direction yet I still offered her a lift home, we were friends now and we’d be finishing at midnight, it’s not like there’s any public transport in the countryside at that hour and a taxi would be extortionate. I felt like it was my duty. I made it very clear that I would be driving her home and then heading home myself, she accepted those terms.

Courtesy compelled me to inform Katy that I’d be home late that night since I was driving a colleague home. During the short drive to Rachel’s I had to drive while negotiating wandering hands and several suggestions to pull into various lay-bys along the way. I persistently denied her advances, this seemed to spur her on more. I guess the denial was perceived as me being dominant which only made her want me more.

Eventually we pulled up at her place and she insisted on me coming in for a drink. I don’t drink tea or coffee, I was intending to drive home so alcohol was also out of the question. I knew what she was really asking and I was dubious. I nervously glanced at my phone for a distraction, the shirty text messages from Katy made my mind up for me, my internal dialog said a drink wouldn’t hurt and then I turned my phone off.

I followed Rachel into her apartment and casually started riffling through her CD collection, further proof that we had nothing in common what-so-ever. I could hear her pottering about in the next room and I assumed that she was busy making us a drink of some kind. When I finally realised her CD collection was a lost cause and I didn’t recognise anything in it I casually looked up to take in the rest of the room.

I can’t say that I noticed any of it, the first thing I saw when I looked up was a naked woman standing in the doorway to the living room with a wicked grin on her face. In the few seconds that followed she gracefully sank to the floor and crawled over to where I was sat on the floor. I was like a deer caught in the headlights, what ever happened to the subtle art of seduction? This approach was about as subtle as a brick.

By the time my brain had caught up to the present moment and everything that was happening I realised I had let her lead me to her bedroom. I feebly attempted to stammer an excuse to leave but my will was weak. She sensed that too and reminded me of my exhausting situation at home and the fact that I had no one to answer to, I could do as I pleased. My last thought was pretty much ‘Ah, what the hell, we’ve come this far…’

I don’t remember sleeping at all that night. I think if I were to give Rachel a label it would definitely be ‘hippy.’ I think she genuinely believed that in the trows of passion she was on another spiritual plain, with every orgasm she’d practically chant ‘Thank-you’ what was I supposed to say ‘You’re welcome?’ it was weird. Some time after dawn we must have fallen asleep.

Rachel woke me early the following afternoon. She had received a call from work, one of the team leaders just checking in to make sure she had a lift arranged. I didn’t miss the wicked way she looked at me and informed him that I’d be driving her to work that morning. I don’t think the team leader in question missed the fact that I typically wouldn’t have any reason to be in this particular neck of the woods and available to drive Rachel to work.

If I were to attempt to sum up the experience in one phrase it would be, weird and wonderful and never to be repeated. My head was swimming when I woke up and half my mind was wondering about the backlash from Katy when I’d finally turn my phone on and see the reaction to my not coming home the night before. I was anxious.

With all this going on in my mind I wanted to get ready for work, have a nice long shower before I had to put on the same clothes from the day before and go back to work. Rachel left me alone in the bathroom for all of about 5 minutes before she hopped in with me, at this point I just gave up, what was the point in trying to say no, the damage had already been done.

At around three o’clock we set off for work. I felt awkward to say the least. I still hadn’t turned my phone on to deal with whatever was coming next. I would wait until I was away from Rachel for that. When we arrived at work it was too busy thankfully to find desks next to each other. I got myself settled in for my shift and then turned my phone on.

There were certainly a few messages for me, voicemails too. The trepidation was almost overwhelming, Katy was clearly very angry with me. I knew I’d be going home that night, I just didn’t know how bad it would be. During the shift I also received a further email or two from Rachel, culminating in her stating ‘Last night was fun, we should do that again sometime’ to which my response of ‘I’ll have to check my schedule’ received a cackle of laughter and a taunt of ‘oh you are wicked.’ I honestly didn’t realise just how much of a brush off my response had been until after I hit send on the email. I didn’t even attempt to backpedal, I can’t say that I was hoping for a repeat performance.

Shortly after our encounter Rachel had some personal family problems which resulted in her leaving the company. We didn’t stay in touch and I’ve not seen or heard from her since. Our one night together became something that I wouldn’t speak of for a few years and when I finally did it would become the kind of tale that has your friends in stitches at the pub as we each tell our more ‘interesting’ exploits.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s