Work Tension
There is a man I work with that I lust after. Yes, lust is what we're talking about. Nope, I'm not interested in a full fledged relationship - crissakes I'll fuck that up royally! What I want is a good hard fucking and happily I'd use him to fulfill my every crass and debased sexual need. A fuck buddy is far preferable, but sadly we work together, and I don't want to work with a fuck buddy.
This man – let’s call him Tom - we work on projects together, attend meetings together, brainstorm together. We have a common mission at our work in that we despise the weak and feast upon their souls whenever we can. The snivelers, the whiners, the crybabies and those that mostly avoid work at any cost are those we tend to target.
He has an edge, some anger, isn’t afraid to talk about controversy, isn’t afraid of sexual tension, doesn’t back down when it’s worth fighting for and furthermore has a great sense of humor and body to drool over. At times he’s made comments and hinted at edgy relationships, a dark side. I’m not going to ask him what he means by edgy as I’d rather wonder what he is really like than know. I love those types of secrets and sexual tension and if I knew more about what he means when he says edgy that might kill it somehow for me. We’ve had blunt discussions including a very torrid one regarding sexual tension and making that work for us without going any further. Recently I told him that if I really wanted him I knew I could have him. He said nothing, stared at me for some time and offered only a slight smile. Since then he’s been a little unavailable. I’m fine with that, and willing to let the issue ‘rest on him’ for a bit. He knows he can come back to the issue if he wants to.
At work I’m known for being direct (bet that’s a huge surprise to you dear reader). I don’t really care about the organization chart or who is at what level, or earns what or who has the corner office or the preferred parking space. God forbid you ask me what I think; I won’t hesitate to tell you. If you need being put in your place, feel free, I’m right here. That said, surprisingly I’m the sounding board to people, especially when they’ve done very stupid things. Perhaps the bitch slap, or the bucket of cold water, or electroshock I give them is what they need. I love to do this only with people that will actually stand up to me and can give as good as they take – and very few men or women will or have the courage to do so. I’m happy to run roughshod over anyone that will permit it and most do. It's odd how many relationships have changed for me once people stand their ground.
Tom’s in a bad way, he’s angry as he’s caught himself in a pissing contest with a higher up that he won’t win. He’s frustrated, and he’s unloading all his garbage. He finally winds down.
I tear into him as hearing him whine is most unpleasant for me and I suspect it’s unpleasant for him too. I know he’s having a very bad day, but I can’t let him off the hook. I call him names and ask him why he’s in my office complaining rather than taking action. I compare him to a whiny sniveling type we both must work with. I remind him that he made his own bed and he’d better own his stupidity and deal with it now rather than later.
He leans across the desk, his face quite close to me, his darkening almost liquid carmel-brown eyes staring deeply into mine. I can see that he’s pissed and that doesn’t bother me in the slightest. He takes my hand and says with a sneer “you are the most frightening bitch I know”, and he storms out. He’s pissed, and that’s cool with me, he’ll overcome that and will be back. He stomps down the hall and slams the door to his office.
Hours pass and I’m at work late – a typical thing for me. I’m wrapping things up and suddenly he appears in my doorway just as I’m putting on my coat. He takes my briefcase and we walk out into the parking lot silently together. It’s pouring and of course I’ve long since forgotten where the $#(@)ing umbrella is. Quickly I assume the drowned rat look.
At my car as I’m unlocking the door and he places my bag on the ground. He stands directly in front of me and says “it’s totally true – and it fucking pisses me off." "You could have me if you really wanted me, and furthermore, you being a scary woman is very hot and makes me achingly hard." "You are so completely arrogant and also maddeningly correct in the things you said." Before I can recover to offer a reply he vanishes and it’s pouring too hard to chase him, aside from being undignified.
I get into my car dragging my bag inside. I sit there, shivering slightly stunned, and I smile to myself I realize that I’m wet in areas not touched by rain.
Today and tonight I have the upper hand – it feels so very good.
Most Sincerely Yours,
Isabelle Channing