Being The Other Woman I currently work as an administrative assistant to 4 mid-level executives. I've held such positions for the past 5 years, though I've had this particular job less than 6 months. Two of the guys are mid-50s; one is mid thirties; the last is an attractive woman in her mid-40s. This story concerns the fella in his 30s, Carl. Carl is 36 (to be precise) and has worked at this company for the better part of a year. He's attractive, intelligent, enthusiastic... all those things that make a guy great at bullshitting his way to the top. If he stays clear of too many sinking ships I bet he'll be a VP before he's 40. Carl is married with two young children. This hasn't seemed to bother him int he least when it comes to flirting with me. Mostly harmless stuff, not terribly suggestive. At least, not at first. After a month or so he apparently noticed that I don't mind. Still, it didn't progress past that until I had been working there for about 3 months. At that point Carl had to go make a big presentation to a potential client. Several people from other departments -- mostly sales and marketing -- were involved. Carl wanted me to travel with him. I've helped him prepare all his presentations since he's been one of the guys I look after, and I must admit I'm pretty damn good at it. So arrangements were made, and I flew off with the group to Atlanta. The trip was to cover 3 days. The first day we flew in, Carl did his thing (brilliantly, I might add) and all was well. That night we all went to dinner. Now, if you've never been on one of these trips you may not know how it goes. We're talking about 15 people, away from their homes and spouses, with an expense account. These aren't your normal paper-pushers, either, but people with power, even if only a little. So, the meal is good, and expensive, and lubricated with much alcohol. I don't drink much, as a matter of personal preference, and since I've learned you can overhear quite a bit when executives get wasted, and you wanna be sober enough to remember it later. During desert Carl is chatting me up quite a bit. As we're leaving he comments, "I like that outfit on you." I look up at him. I'm wearing a black skirt and red blouse. Kinda plain, very professional, I like it. I thank him with a smile. And I'm not surprised at all when, after sitting in my hotel room, slightly buzzed, for only 15 minutes when Carl rings. "Julia, hey... Can you come down here? I wanna run some things past you." "Sure. I'll be right down." Freshen my makeup a bit. Fix my hair. This isn't the first time for something like this. It's not a guarantee, of course. But I'm not new to it. Carl's room is one floor up. I take the stairs. Knock on the door, he opens. The tie is gone, top button open, shoes off. He smiles and waves me in. Starts asking questions about the day: How did I think the presentation went? What should he change? Any questions that I think they'll ask? To my shock we talk business for the better part of an hour. He's sitting on the bed with his laptop, I'm lounging in a chair. He pulls up some spreadsheet he wants me to look at. I move over to sit beside him and look. When I look back to him to comment, he's staring at me with that look. (ladies, you know the look. Guys, you've given the look, though you may not know what it is. It's the look guys get that says "I am no longer thinking about anything but sex") "You're very pretty, Julia." Here we go. "Thank you." He brushes my hair back, tucking it behind my ear, looking for a reaction. I smile; I don't mind this. He leans in, tentative. I meet him half way, and our lips touch briefly. We pull back for a moment. Only a moment. His hand slides to the back of my neck, pulling me in. I don't resist. Our mouths open, tongues meet. He tastes slightly minty, like he brushed his teeth just before I arrived. He moves from my mouth to my neck. Damn it feels good, too -- licking, then sucking a bit, nibbling me. I don't want to stop him, but... "Carl, why don't you move your laptop?" He does, quickly, and rejoins me on the bed. We lay down, on our sides, facing each other. His hands to either side of my face, pulling me in. I place my right hand on his side, trying to decide what he wants. A slut, to go after him? Demure, letting him take control? I don't wonder long. He returns to my neck, rolling me onto my back, his hand coming up and squeezing my breast through my blouse. I wrap my arms around him. He fumbles with my buttons, revealing my black bra. I sit up a bit, reach behind, unhook it, shrug it off with the blouse. "God, you're beautiful." I smile again as I guide his head to my nipple. He sucks in it, deep, hard, almost painful. I moan as he switches to the other. This man knows how to treat a tit. Licking the nipple, sucking, but not just the nipple. All around, to the sensitive underside, nibbling me while squeezing the other. The feelings, combined with the couple of drinks i had at dinner, work a number on me. As he's loving my tits I remove my arms from around him, begin to frantically unbutton his shirt. He sits up, pulls it off, removes his undershirt, revealing a slightly-muscled chest. Not bad... he works out. I unfasten my skirt as he removes his pants. His hard dick -- not overly long or thick, but nice enough -- is in view and I slide my panties off. I sit up, kiss him again as I place my hand around his shaft. I'm only allowed a few tugs, though, before he pushes me down. I pull my knees up and out, opening myself. He works a finger over my pussy lips and smiles. "Nice," he says, "I wondered if you shaved." I do, and I'm glad he approves. I'm not terribly interested in his compliments at that moment, though. He comes down, kissing my thighs. Holy shit, I thought, he's going to eat me. And he does. One finger, then two, slide into me, slowly, going deep, I arch to meet it. His mouth comes down onto me, licking above his fingers. He finds my clit, and flinch at the sensation. He looks up and I push him back down. He slowly fucks my with his fingers and he sucks my clit. I leave one hand on top of his head, pulling him to me. My left hand comes up and pulls my nipples. Fuck, but he's good at this. I climb up steadily. I'm almost there when he removes his two fingers... I groan my protest. He replaces the two there before with a single digit... not good enough. I'm about to complain more when that one finger is removed, the other two swiftly replacing it. My protest becomes just "Uh oomph" as he finger fucks me again. The reason for the brief exchange becomes obvious when that lone finger, lubricated with my juices, nudges my asshole. God, but I'm in heaven. He knows how to suck tits, eat pussy, and play with my ass. I relax, and push slightly, his finger pops in. I groan. He looks up at me, his face wet with my juices. "You've this before." I ignore him, pulling his head back down. He complies. I can feel his fingers -- the two in my cunt, the one in my ass -- rubbing together. His tongue is loving my clit. Both of my hands are not occupied with my tits. In barely two more minutes I'm coming, clamping my legs around him, crying out softly. He takes me all the way up, all the way down, kissing my softly, removing the digit from my ass, only rubbing my thighs. "God, Carl... wow." I'm not terribly coherent after an orgasm. He smiles, obviously proud of himself. I look down, his dick is only semi-hard now. I reach for it. "So, you want your turn now?" Chuckling, he settles himself between my legs. I still hold his cock, working it back to hardness. It doesn't take long. His tongue moves against mine, both his hands squeezing my tits. I pull him to me, he slides in, his eyes shut. "Holy fuck Julia... oh God..." I wrap my legs around him, hooking my feet behind his ass, using this leverage to pull him deeper into me. It feels good, but I'm concentrating on him. I tighten my muscles as he pulls out. He keeps his eyes shut, pushed up on his arms now, pushing into me hard, then pausing, drawing out slowly, back in. Sweat is on his face, along with my juices. I lick both off. He lasts longer than I thought he would, but eventually I can tell he's getting close. I keep moaning, telling him how good his cock feels. I tell him, "Cum in me, Carl. C'mon, give it to me, fill my pussy." He does, moaning and grunting, bottoming out in my. He collapses on me, panting. I relax my legs, letting them fall to the bed. We lay there for several minutes. I wonder how he will react now that we haven't just flirted; now we've fucked. No going back from that. "He rolls off me, sits by on the edge of the bed. "God, Julia, that was... shit." I smile, waiting for him, trying to judge the reaction. "Fuck." He puts his head in his hands. "Oh fuck." Uh oh. I sit up, place my arm around his shoulder, leaning into him. "You're awesome, Carl." He's silent, I go on. "I'm glad we did this." He looks at me. "I wish we'd done it before, and I hope it won't be the last time." "I don't know. I mean, Cathy..." (his wife) I interrupt him "She only knows what you tell her, Carl. That's between you and her. For me, I had fun. Didn't you?" Again, he's silent. I go for his ego: "Most guys can't make me cum the first time." He can't help himself, he smiles. I get dressed, letting him watch me. Before I go I walk over to him, give him a nice, deep kiss, and wrap my hand around his dick, still sticky from me. I get him well on his way to a hardon, then say, "I have to go, sweetie." Leave em wanting more, right?