One of my favourite filthy memories to recall (and there’s been a fair few over the years) was one that happened about 18-20 years ago, but remains as vivid as ever in my mind.
I was in my early twenties working for a well known accountancy firm. I was in a role way above my head, but the money was good and I decided it was sink or swim, so I stuck at it and it paid off in more ways than one.
About 3-6 months after I started, a new HR lady joined the company. Before then it was managed by someone who managed HR remotely from another location. This new lady was nice enough, in her late thirties to early forties, a husbands, 2 young-ish children and seemed quite straight laced at first. She was about 5’6 with brown short hair, very slim, an ex-gymnast she later told me. I was in a relationship with a girl at the time too, and things were all pretty normal.
The HR manager, let’s call her Gemma, shared an office with me, the facilities guy and the internal office accountant. We used to have some good laughs, away from the main floor of the rest of the accountants. As boring as the profession is, there were some wild stories that used to float around about some of the staff there. Maybe it’s how they got all of their stress out of their system during busy season. I remember watching Wolf of Wall Street years later and thinking that isn’t too far off some of the stories I used to hear about this place I one worked at.
I got on with most people there, but nothing was remarkable in terms of friendship until a few years in. A few of us used to go out for lunch on a Friday down to the pub around the corner from the office. I don’t recall exactly what the turning point was, but I do remember Gemma frequently ranting about her husband and being very short with him on the phone whenever they spoke at work. On one pub lunch her and I were alone and she started talking about a friend of her Dad’s who lived quite far away, saying that he’s her dream man, and that she’d known him for years and been chatting to him a lot lately and thought about going to visit him next weekend. I really didn’t know what to make of this, it just came out of the blue, but I just shrugged my shoulders and thought nothing really of it.
The next time we went to the pub together she told me that she had been and visited this guy and they’d slept together and spent all weekend in bed. She told me in quite vivid detail in fact of everything they’d done. I remember being quite shocked, I’d met her husband and kids a number of times and now there I was, in my early twenties, privy to candid details of an affair that could tear her family apart. I had confusing feelings about all of it, but part of it did turn me on. I kept her secret with me though and didn’t tell anyone.
Over the coming weeks, Gemma confided everything in me. She would call me over to her laptop and she’d scroll through lingerie websites asking my opinion on whether I thought they’d look good on her. We’d walk through town on our lunches and she’s drag me into Ann Summers to look at stockings and suspenders and she’d ask which ones I liked.
At the pub one Friday she said that she’d been telling some of her friends about the situation with this new guy and how frustrating it was that he lived so far away. I still remember her saying these exact words all these years later “if only there was someone much closer to home I could have the same arrangement with”.
I was in half denial that she meant me, I was a bit naive really, but I was also hiding the hardest erection of my life under the pub bar table. I wasn’t innocent as such and shared some pretty amazing and filthy sex with my then girlfriend, but she was my age, and Gemma was nearly double so I guess I felt a bit intimidated by an older woman.
One night, I think it was the office Christmas party, a black tie do, everyone ended up at the nightclub next door. We all danced and had a great time. The dancing between Gemma and I became quite heated, grinding up against each other but then laughing it off as if it was just a joke. We shared a taxi home together, with my house being the first stop. Just before we got to my house, we kissed unexpectedly. I walked inside to my then girlfriend who was asleep and went to bed very turned on at what had just happened lying there awake playing it over and over in my head.
Thinking Monday would be really awkward, I went to work but nothing was mentioned of it at all. The days and weeks went by with occasional flirting, and then came the leaving do of my new best friend in the company, Joe. He’d only been there a few months on a temporary contact but we got on really well and I was going to miss having him around.
His leaving do consisted of karaoke in one of the meeting rooms of the office, loads of booze and everyone just having a great time. I can still recall Gemma arriving wearing a white silky sleeveless shirt which revealed most of her back, which was so slender, and toned, and tight black jeans. I do remember thinking she was looking particularly good that night but had no expectations of repeating any kind of intimacy. How wrong was I about to be! |
