Working on It

This is my first Literotica submission. I welcome your feedback, but beg you to be kind.

*****

It has been about six months since I accepted the position with this company. So far, I'm pretty happy with it. My salary is the same as it was in my last job, but there are so many aspects of this new job that make it so much better. Today is an example. Company-wide closing time is 1:00 p.m. on Fridays. This Friday, the company hosted an all-staff catered barbecue after work at a large park nearby. We all played, ate, and had beer or wine on the company tab. The barbecue is far less stuffy than the ego-driven country club scene my previous employer seemed to like so much.

When everyone drifted away from the park, the festivities moved on to a bar a few blocks away. The bar owners seemed to believe they had a traditional Irish pub, but it's really just a half step above a dive. The whole place is crowded with people from my company. I only know the few I see on a daily basis. There are people from other departments that work in entirely different buildings. We all congregate in our usual groups, not mixing our departments socially, though there seem to be a few people who successfully navigate the entire place. I happily watch on as my colleagues get a little tipsy and act a bit foolish. A couple of the younger ladies are acting flirty with each other, but I can't determine for whose benefit. I let my glance wander across the various tables and groups, knowing I will likely meet many of these people at some time in the near future. That's when I first saw her.

She was laughing with her group of friends and I couldn't look away. Her wavy brown hair was pulled back in a pony tail that gave the message she was not out to impress anyone. That laugh was loud, giving me the impression her confidence was not lacking. Her green eyes had a sparkle to them that said there was nothing fake about the laugh. She was enjoying herself. To anyone else, there was likely nothing outstanding about her, but I found her magnetic.

I managed to bring my eyes back to my own table before I was caught staring. I forced a smile to my face and spoke to the group. "I'll get the next round. Who needs another?" Several voices rose and hands flew into the air. We all agreed I would order a few pitchers of beer for the group.

As I walked toward the bar, I saw her again. This time she was standing and making her way to the restroom. I figured there was no harm in making a stop there myself before I stood in line at the bar where the lone barkeeper was doing his best to keep up with the unexpected early-afternoon crowd. As I followed her toward the back of the room, I took in her appearance from the back. She had small, feminine shoulders and a slim waist that curved out into wide hips and a round bum. She appeared to fidget with her shirt sleeve and walked with a slight tilt to her head. Her posture seemed shy, not at all like her strong laugh. Curious.

When I reached the interior of the restroom, she was already in a cubicle. I did the same and took care of my business. We arrived at the sinks to wash our hands at the same time. I could see her face in the mirror and made note of the smattering of freckles across her nose. I already guessed her at early 30s, but the freckles made her look even younger. At 45 myself, I knew I shouldn't even be considering looking at her the way I was.

She caught my eye in the mirror and, to my surprise, she spoke. "I get spoiled by the toilets at work. Now I expect auto-flush in every restroom. And same with the faucets. It seems inconvenient to turn knobs to get the water on and off."

I smiled. "First-world problems, right?"

"And clearly the most intelligent bathroom conversation to be had," she joked. "Hi, I'm Shelby. I work on floor 3 in the main building."

"Melanie," I replied, holding eye contact in the mirror. "I am in mutual funds, so I'm in the smaller building down the street."

"Sounds like we won't be seeing each other around the office, but it's nice to meet you," Shelby grinned. She looked down to the floor. "We're wearing nearly the same shoes."

I glanced down. Sure enough, my black trainers were the same brand and style as her red ones. "Great minds and all that. Yours are a bit more bold than mine."

"Well, Melanie, I've got a beer waiting for me. It's good to know you." Shelby smiled again and made her way out the door, dropping her paper towel in the bin as she walked out.

"Uh huh," was all I managed to mumble as I made my way back to order the pitchers for my table.

That was that. I managed to sneak a glance at her once again before she left about twenty minutes later. Those green eyes and freckles were just about the most adorable combination. Shelby was the picture of youth, but her curves were evidence that she was all woman.

While I was certainly curious about Shelby, I talked myself back from pursuing any more information about her. Social media stalking was something I couldn't allow myself to do. Besides, I didn't know her last name and I could hardly go Googling "Shelby who works on floor 3." So I put her out of my mind for the most part.

It was a few months later when I saw her again. This time was a company volunteer event in the spring time. As I was a manager in the office, I was also assigned a somewhat managerial task at the volunteer site. The large group of volunteers was being divided into smaller groups and assigned a variety of tasks as we all worked to beautify a housing project largely inhabited by elderly folks on public assistance. The facility had great programs, but certainly made use of volunteer labor a few times a year to assure upkeep of the property. Our groups worked indoors and out doing everything from housekeeping to pouring concrete to replace damaged pavements. I tried not to notice where she was, but I saw Shelby volunteer for the team that was to help with gardening.

As one of the coordinators, I moved around the worksite to make sure the volunteers found their task and had all the tools that they needed. I couldn't help but notice Shelby as she worked just as hard as anyone else, and also made efforts to keep conversation going and morale up. She joked around and moved a bit among the various people. It seemed she knew everyone. As the day wore on, her wavy hair turned outright curly. A few tendrils curled tightly near her hairline. How could it be that getting sweaty and muddy was actually making her more adorable?

I made my rounds among the small groups, checking nothing was needed.

"Hey Shelby," I took pleasure in knowing at least one name in the group. "How is everything going over here?"

"Oh, hi Melanie!" she seemed genuinely pleased to speak with me. "I think we are all good here. We've filled several bins with yard waste. A lot of areas were quite overgrown." She smiled and I could not stop from grinning back.

"I know the community appreciates what we're doing," I told her. I noticed she stopped working and held eye contact with me. She was breathing a bit heavily. I figured it was from all the work she was doing. Her face was glowing from the exertion. I had to reel my mind back from picturing that glow resulting from another type of exertion.

I cleared my throat, looked away for a beat, then looked at Shelby again. "Say, would you be interested in grabbing a drink at the end of the day?" I hear myself say to her, surprised at my own nerve.

"I'm married," Shelby stated without much emotion. Her voice was barely above a whisper, but we both knew she had said it aloud. I could feel my brow furrow. Was it that obvious what I was thinking?

"No, Shelby, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I meant perhaps a group of us could get together."

"I, uh, I shouldn't. I have to get back to work now," she said, looking away from me and over her shoulder to an area where other people were working. "Sorry," muttered. Then she looked up at me and quickly away again before saying, "Nice shoes, Melanie."

I looked down to see that I was wearing the same trainers I'd had on the day I first saw her. She was wearing some shoes better suited to the outdoor work she was doing. I turned and walked on toward the next group of volunteers. I was baffled by our interaction. While I was not surprised to learn Shelby was married, I was disappointed in the way she gave the information. It was common that straight women would announce their status in conversation as a way of letting the lesbian know she should back off. What hurt about this was that it was contradictory to the look in her eyes, which had been almost flirty up until that point.

By the end of the day, I had pushed away most of my disappointment from my conversation with Shelby. I had also made good on my previously fictional plan to get a group together for a drink at the end of the day. Geoffrey, Michael, Jennifer, Wendy, and myself all decided to meet at a bar near the worksite. We gathered around a table. Geoffrey was the last to arrive and I was surprised to see Shelby follow him in.

As they arrived at the table, the last empty seat available for Shelby was next to me. She seated herself without looking at me.

"You made it," I said quietly.

"Yeah, Geoff talked me into it," she said to me quietly. She blushed slightly. I tried to ignore the effect that blush had on me.

We all chatted away as we enjoyed a pint or two and some snacks. I had the opportunity to witness her bold laughter again. It seemed Shelby and Geoffrey worked closely and had a rather hilarious rapport. They kept the whole table entertained with their shared stories.

As afternoon turned to evening, Shelby and I were the last to close our tabs and wander out to our vehicles. An uncomfortable silence hung over us. I could feel her hesitation at being alone with me, if just for a moment.

"Listen, Melanie," Shelby started. "About earlier..."

"No worries." I interrupted. "I get it. My orientation is no secret. You didn't want to be alone with the lesbian."

"Oh shit. You think I'm homophobic?" Shelby asked. Then she started to chuckle. "That is so far from the truth. I'm sorry I came across that way."

Shelby walked next to me as we approached my Volvo. I turned toward her and leaned with my back against the door of my car.

Shelby looked down at the ground, then scanned all directions around us as though she expected to find someone lurking about. Finally, she looked at me. Her gorgeous green eyes held my eyes captive. She stepped closer. Her curvy frame was about an inch and a half shorter than my lanky self. And then the distance between us was suddenly less than the difference in our height.

I could feel the heat radiating off her body as she looked at me and said, "I shouldn't be alone with you because I am married."

She leaned in, just barely avoiding making contact. I could hear her inhale deeply, her face now next to mine. My body was heating up from the inside out. She was smelling me and I was so turned on by it, my knees started to shake.

"Mmmmm," she groaned softly. "I have to go." She abruptly turned and walked away. I got a brief whiff of her hair product as she turned. Even after a day of manual labor she smelled wonderful. I watched Shelby as she got into her Mazda, started the engine, and left.

I stared after her for long minutes before I managed to slide behind the steering wheel of my car and start driving. I drove with little awareness of the road. The last several minutes were surreal. One minute I had myself convinced it had all been my imagination and this young, married woman did not possibly want anything to do with me. The next minute I was reminded that I was so turned on I could feel my own wetness as I drove.

Over the next few weeks, I well and truly convinced myself I had misread everything that happened with Shelby. There was no way a woman more than a decade my junior had flirted with me. More than that, even if she had flirted, she was married and I was no home wrecker. We would both be best served to remember that we were colleagues first, and could be only friends at the most, if even that were possible. Still, I struggled to keep those piercing green eyes out of my mind.

It was more than a month after the volunteer day when I attended my first meeting of a new cross-department task force. Our shared goal was assisting in development of a software to be used company-wide. The task force had members from all departments. My heart nearly stopped when I looked across the conference room table and saw Shelby. We nodded our hello to each other and the meeting went on. While I knew that my position was higher up the corporate ladder than hers, her poise in the boardroom would have no person wondering why her team chose her to represent them. She spoke with intelligence and approached all feedback with grace. I couldn't help but smile as we shared ideas.

The task force meeting was the beginning of a series of emails, that then turned into a volley of instant messages. Shelby and I would start sharing our work-related ideas. Soon we would move on to conversation about current events, television shows we binge-watched, and whether or not we should grab lunch together. We never spoke of our moment by my car, just as we never spoke of her spouse and she never inquired about my romantic life. Keeping those topics off-limits, we developed a tenuous friendship. We found we had similar political (liberal) views and religious (agnostic) beliefs. We both enjoyed crime dramas and avoided reality television. Over the weeks, we got into the habit of meeting for lunch on Thursdays.

I chastised myself for allowing her to affect me the way she did. No matter how frequently and harshly I reminded myself that Shelby was married, I still found myself glancing at her full lips as she spoke to me over our lunches. I still looked at those freckles and wanted to touch my lips to every one of them. Alone in my bed, I would see those eyes staring up at me from between my legs as my fingers swept quickly back and forth across my clit. Shit. I had it bad for Shelby. As much as I pretended that I could be her friend, I knew that it was definitely not friendly of my body to react the way it did when she was near.

It was a Thursday in September that I found myself sitting alone at our regular lunch spot. Shelby hadn't mentioned that she wouldn't be here. In fact, I hadn't heard from her at all today. Just as I was about to send her a text message, I was surprised by someone else joining me at my table. I looked up to see Geoffrey seating himself in the chair meant for Shelby. It took a second for me to switch my disappointed glance for a more welcoming smile. Geoffrey shot me a smirk, the kind that said he knew something I didn't.

"Heya, Mel," Geoffrey greeted me. He and I were not in frequent contact, so I was a bit thrown by the shortened version of my name. I didn't say anything, but waited for him to speak again.

"Listen, ah, you know Shelby and I have been friends for a while?"

I nodded.

"Yeah, well, I love that girl like a sister. I would do just about anything for her. Do you know what I'm saying?"

"Um, not really. Has something happened? Where is Shelby?"

"She had somewhere to be today. I know she didn't tell you. Shelby asked me to meet you here. Wanted me to give you this." Geoffrey slid a business card across the table. There was handwriting on the back side of it. "Said she wants you to meet her at that address tomorrow after work."

I looked at the card. Even Shelby's handwriting was lovely. The address in her elegant print appeared to be an apartment not far from the main office building.

I looked from the card back to Geoffrey. "Is everything okay? Is Shelby okay?," I asked him. I am certain he could hear the bit of panic I was feeling.

"Actually, I think everything is going to be more than okay." He almost seemed calmed by my distress. He leaned in over the table that separated us and lowered his voice. "When did you fall in love with her?"

I stared at him, feeling my panic level increasing as I knew I was being called out. My voice was barely above a whisper as I replied, "I can't even remember. It seems like it happened before I even knew her."

He gave a single nod then looked at the card in my hand. "Tomorrow after work. Go there."

And then I was alone at the table. I didn't eat lunch. This was just too confusing for me.

Friday seemed to take forever. I couldn't concentrate on my work. I was so impatient to learn what had happened with Shelby. I needed to see her to know that she was okay. When one o'clock finally came around, I was nearly running for the door. I had already put the address from the card into my GPS. Within 15 minutes, I was knocking on a door I had never seen before and desperately hoping I was at the right place.

I was finally able to breathe when the door opened and I saw Shelby's gorgeous face smiling at me. She grabbed me by the wrist and pulled me in the door, shutting it behind me. She stayed so near me, I felt trapped between Shelby and the wall of the small entryway.

I glanced over her to see that she looked healthy and not injured in any way.

"What's happened? Are you okay? What is this place?" I rattled questions off, still a bit worried. "Where were you yesterday?"

"Shhh, honey," Shelby tried to calm me. "This is my new place. I live here now." She ran her fingertips down the side of my face, caressing my jaw as she spoke. Her calling me honey only made my heart beat faster than its already panicked pace.

"Yesterday I had an important appointment. I met with my attorney. Everything is fine, sweetheart," she assured as she could see me panic again wondering why she needed an attorney.

"Melanie, honey, I need you to know that this all started before I met you. It's important to me that you know this wasn't about you." My confusion was clearly broadcast in my facial expression. Shelby continued to gently touch my face and neck as she spoke.

Shelby moved in even closer. I could feel her body gently touching mine, our thighs touching and our torsos and breasts just barely reaching each other. Her face was beside mine when she whispered, "Melanie, I'm not married anymore."

I pulled my head back so I could look into her eyes, silently asking for more information. Shelby obliged.

"We started our divorce proceedings months ago. It's all been very friendly between us, nothing ugly. We just couldn't be a couple anymore. Of course there are reasons and details, but I don't want to go over all of that right now.

"Melanie, I have wanted you since I first saw you. Hell, I wanted to attack you in the restroom of that bar when we first spoke. But I couldn't let myself be with you when I was still bound to someone else. I'm sorry I couldn't talk with you about it.

"But, Mel, honey, the divorce was finalized yesterday. I am not married anymore."

I stared at Shelby as her words worked their way into my brain. Then more of her words gained traction in my muddled mind. Her hands were still on my face as I looked at her. Finally, I bent slightly and she reached up. Our lips met. The softness of her lips overwhelmed me. We both allowed our lips to part slightly, and then her tongue was in my mouth, dancing with my own tongue.

I was kissing Shelby. She was kissing me. The reality was so much better than my fantasies. The taste of her tongue in my mouth drove me mad. Suddenly my hands were everywhere: in her hair, on her breasts, cupping her round ass, feeling the slope of her rib cage.

"Mel, baby, tell me I'm not imagining this. Tell me you want this," Shelby begged between kisses.

"Shelby," I said breathlessly as I turned her around. I pressed up against her as her back gently hit the wall. "Shelby, I need you. If you're imagining this, I'm imagining it with you."