Break Room Beauty

by CodCapers

Copyright© 2012 by CodCapers

Sex Story: Lusting after a co-worker. What if both parties were thinking the same thing?

Caution: This Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Consensual   Heterosexual   Oral Sex   .

We smiled at each other in the break room every morning. I didn't even know her name and I was pretty sure she didn't know mine. Melinda? Miranda? It was something like that. The company I worked for had gone through such a hiring blitz in the last few months that it was hard to keep track. We had gone from twenty employees to well over one hundred in just six months. I was surprised we hadn't been on the news for single-handedly lowering the local unemployment rate. The "Please welcome..." e-mails had been flying about practically every Monday, usually in bunches, and the new employee meet-and-greet tours had stopped because they were so distracting. I felt bad for not knowing people's names, but there were so many in such a short period of time.

Despite not knowing her name, I still was in lust. That seems wrong, I guess, and you should at least bother to know the name of the co-worker you've beat off to more than once in late night self-pleasure sessions. She was older than me, although not by much. Maybe five years? No more than ten? She was so nicely put together and in such great shape, it was hard to tell. Great ass that I stared at any chance I got. Nice breasts from what could be told hidden under typical work clothes. Pretty face. Great hair. About 5'7" with long legs. Always dressed nicely, even on 'casual Friday'. She was just delicious to look at and dream about. My desk had a view of the hallway leading into the break room, so I would get to work a little early just to make sure I bumped into her. I think she was getting wise to it; it was an almost-every-morning event. I didn't care.

In the break room, we'd make small talk. Say our 'Hello' or 'Good morning' and usually move on with our days. Sometimes we'd share little pieces of our lives. I often didn't see her the rest of the day. We were usually the first two into the office. She was recently divorced, and got her youngest child onto the school bus. Getting in early also let her go home early and in time for the return of the bus. I knew she was older than me because she had a child in college, but still had a young one in elementary or middle school. Unless she had the first one at 12, she was definitely older than me. Her husband must have been an ass. She was beautiful, smart, and stayed in great shape. No idea what he was looking for at his age, but this woman would have been hard to beat in the looks and personality department. His loss, I guess. She seemed fine to have been freed from the loser.

I was a confirmed bachelor and currently between relationships. OK ... it had been a long time since I'd had a relationship. The last one ended amicably enough. No kids. No real ties. For now, I was pouring myself into my work and trying to get ahead. I kept myself in pretty good shape for a desk jockey. Worked out a few times a week and generally took care of myself. I wasn't a 'hunk', but felt I was on the plus side of average. Just under 6' tall and about 180 pounds.

Working late one night and thinking I was alone in the office, I was surprised to see her walk by on her way to the break room just as I was about to log out. I didn't want to appear to be a total stalker, but was curious about why she was in the office so late, so I went in and made a production of washing out my coffee mug while she filled hers with a fresh cup from the one-cup machine. I'd never seen her around at night, and I closed up the office almost every night, even though I was also one of the first ones in. Great life, huh? First in, last to leave. My boss loved me. A salaried guy putting in 60 hours weeks regularly. My projects were always on time.

"You OK?" I asked while she made her coffee, a harried look about her and even the coffee machine wasn't fast enough for her.

"The bitc ... I mean Carol ... is demanding that I finish up something before leaving," she sighed. "My 'ex' has my daughter this weekend, thank goodness, but if I don't get this done, I'm not sure I'll have a job come Monday. Great Friday night, huh?"

"I'm here, too. We make quite the wild-and-crazy partiers, huh?" I teased. "Do you know how to set the alarm?" I asked. I knew what a bitch her boss could be. She apparently did, too, and just caught herself in front of me. She probably wasn't enough of a bitch to fire her over some report or project being a little late, but it would be less drama to just get it done. I had worked for her on one project and swore I never would again. I had told my boss as much and he needed me badly enough to agree to keep me away from her. The more junior engineers got stuck on 'her' or 'those' projects. Lucky them.

"Umm ... no ... I've never done it. Why?"

"Well, I was just about to leave and I usually set it when I go, but I don't want to lock you in. They're not happy when someone sets it off and the police drop by." I added with a smile. "Pretty sure we're the last two here. How much longer will you be?"

"I ... I don't really know. Maybe another half hour?" she said without a lot of confidence.

"I could show you how to set it, but I have some other projects I can work on," I said, smiling. "Find me when you're ready to leave." My damsel-in-distress instinct kicked in and I was stuck here a while longer. Yup ... a great Friday night. I probably would have gone home, watched college football, and dreamed of her while in the shower anyway. If I wasn't such a chicken-shit, I'd make a pass and take the opportunity to get to know her without any nosey co-workers constantly getting in the way. There was an informal 'no fraternization' policy at work, but it had been broken on more than one occasion lately with all the new employees. Bunch of fresh-out-of-college new hires with still-raging hormones and frat party mentalities.

"Thanks a million," she said with a relieved smile.

I went back to my desk and mostly surfed the web and thought about being in the office alone with her. They weren't pure thoughts and I nearly hit up a porn site while waiting it out. I was almost tempted to hit the men's room for some relief as my imagination ran wild and my dick grew hard with the thoughts. I was actually hoping to get home much sooner than now and had already stayed later than I wanted. Maybe she'd finish up quickly and I didn't want to be missing when she came to find me. A storm was headed our way -- a cold, November Nor'easter -- and it was threatening heavy rain and high winds. I couldn't let the object of my lust down, though, even if she didn't know my name.

About an hour passed and she came running over to my desk in a panic, "I think I'm done, but I can't get the data to print out! Can you help?"

"I can take a look," I offered, once again donning the 'white knight' armor. I quickly followed her towards her desk, mostly so I could watch her perfect ass sway, but also because I had never been to her cube and didn't even know where she sat. I wasn't in the IT group, but was geeky enough to be dangerous. It was me or nothing. In a pinch, I had the IT manager's cell phone, but I'm guessing he wouldn't have been happy to hear from me on a Friday night. I wasn't happy to be here, but at least I was spending time near her, something I couldn't otherwise do on a daily basis. We worked on completely different products in completely different groups at the company.

Her problem turned out to be something simple and I was able to help her in about five minutes route her document to another printer. It was Miranda. Her open e-mail client and nameplate outside her cube were the dead giveaway. I'm such a genius.

"Thank you so much. You're my hero," she said, and surprised me with a hug and a peck on the cheek. Her breasts pushed against me briefly during the hug and my cock, which was already a little swollen from my desk day-dreaming, nearly came to full attention in an instant.

"Uhh ... sure ... no problem," I muttered and mumbled and tried to hide my growing bulge.

"Are you ready to leave?" I asked and she nodded. "Meet me by the front door in five minutes and we'll lock up."

We got to the front door and I suddenly realized that I should have left early. I hadn't even bothered to check the news or weather while web-surfing earlier, but the forecast of rain for our area had been way off and there were already 3-4" of heavy, wet snow on the ground. And it was snowing and blowing really hard. My middle-of-the-building cube didn't allow me to see outside, or I might not have been so amenable to staying late. Shit. I had a forty-five minute drive home on the best of days. Tonight, it would probably take twice as long ... if I was lucky. I cursed under my breath again.

"What was that?" she asked as I punched the code into the alarm system and opened the front door for her. The blast of cold was bracing and my coat was slung over my arm instead of where it should be.

"Sorry. Nothing. Long ride home and in this," I said, pointing to the snow.

"I'm so sorry for keeping you late," she said, genuinely concerned and thankful. "You really did save me tonight, though."

"It's no problem, Miranda," and she beamed when I said her name. Down, boy!

"Well..." she began, and I thought she was going to say something else, but her eyes dropped and she just said, "Drive safely." And then she added my name. It was like music to my ears.

I watched her go to her car in a dream state, not noticing the cold. I got into my car, throwing my jacket and laptop into the back seat. I quickly brushed off the worst of the snow and looked over to where Miranda's car was. Something was wrong. I could hear it was cranking, but it wasn't starting and the headlights seemed dim. It was an old car, but in great shape. Like her. A late 60's Mustang. I couldn't be sure of the year. Cars weren't my thing. I couldn't leave her stranded here and my 'white knight' tendencies kicked in yet again. I finished getting the snow off and pulled my car over to hers.

As I drove over, she opened the window and exclaimed, "Oh my god, thank you again," she said, nearly in tears. "I got this car in the divorce. I love it, but it's finicky sometimes, especially in cold weather."

"Let's try a jump," I said. I moved my car into position and got my jumper cables out of the trunk. I wasn't a 'car guy', but I did know how to hook up a set of jumper cables. I got out into the cold and blowing snow and popped my hood. I motioned for her to do the same. She did, and I had the batteries hooked together pretty quickly, even in the semi-dark of the parking lot.

She tried again to crank it over. Once, twice, three times. Ten times. It wasn't working and in the meantime, I was getting pelted by snow and wind. My jacket was still in the backseat and I had been thinking that I didn't want the heavy thing on for the long drive home. I should have put it on before helping Miranda ... or trying to. Now I was soaked to the bone as the wet snow had just smacked into me and melted instead of sticking to my shirt and jeans. Double-shit, I thought.

I ran to her open window and asked, "How far away do you live?"

"Less than ten minutes. Wh ... why?" she asked as she mentioned the area of the town she lived in. It was on my way.

"Because I don't think this thing's going to start. I'm frozen and wet. How 'bout I give you a ride home and you can call AAA or a mechanic tomorrow?"

"Umm ... OK ... sure," she said. Was that reluctance? Was she afraid to get in my car? Great. My heart sank a bit.

She grabbed her purse and soft-sided briefcase and hopped in. My car was warm, at least, and I cranked the blower up to 'high' to try to get the chill out. As it was, the car was already warm, but I was still shivering and cold, the damp clothes clung to me and seemingly wouldn't let the heat in. I managed to navigate my way to her house with her help, but it was a struggle and took twice as long between the weather and my soggy, frozen brain. The roads were already awful, and the storm apparently took the local DPW by surprise. We hadn't seen a plow or sander the whole way.

"Oh my god. You're shivering," she said with concern as she directed me into her driveway. "Come in for a minute and I'll give you some dry clothes. You're practically the same size as my 'ex'."

"I should probably just get home in this storm," I said, my teeth chattering. Shit. I really was chilled. It wasn't frostbite, but I felt weird. How long had I been standing out in the cold? Was my heart racing? Double-shit. Did I have hypothermia? I didn't know the signs. Was I out in the cold that long?

"I'm no nurse," Miranda started, "but I am a Mom and you don't look great. Your lips are blue and you can't stop shivering. This car is at least 85 degrees, and I'm about to start tearing off layers from the heat. Come in and get warm, young man. No argument." She used what I guess was her 'Mom' voice on me and, at the same time, she grabbed the keys out of the ignition and popped them into her purse. She grabbed her other bag and came around to my side of the car to guide me to the house.

Some 'white knight' I am, I thought. I can barely move or stop shaking. Triple-shit. I was cold and the blast of frigid air that hit me as I got out of the extremely warm car was bracing. My shivering intensified and she quickly got me into the house. It was a typical New England Cape, but had clearly been updated and upgraded. Either that, or she was an immaculate housekeeper. Probably both. Not sure how I noticed all the details in my fog, but it was clear her personal style had extended beyond just her wardrobe and was reflected in her home. It was classic, but not old-school. Very warm, inviting, and comfortable. Like her.

"Bathroom at the top of the stairs. Get in a hot shower. I'll bring you dry clothes." It was an order, not a suggestion, and my brain was just foggy enough to follow the order without questioning. I closed the door behind me and slowly and methodically stripped off the wet clothes, dropping them with a soggy 'plop' onto the bathroom tiles. How do buttons work again, I thought? Wow. She's right. I'm not doing well. My coordination was awful.

I managed to get undressed and figure out the shower. Another room that had clearly been updated, this bathroom had a big stand-up shower big enough for three or four people. It had a huge 'rainfall' showerhead and I cranked the temperature up as high as I thought I could stand and walked in. The water helped, but I was still shivering. As I stood there soaking in the heat, I heard the bathroom door click open. The steam had already filled the room and it was impossible to see the door or much beyond the shower's edge. I saw movement, but no detail.

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