That Killer Blue Dress [MF]

My [last story](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/3kzo56/the_one_that_broke_my_heart_mf/) got a lot of positive, supportive responses and though it’s been over a year I’ve decided to share a few more stories. These are all real, though I may have misremembered details and added a little dramatic effect. Memory is a funny thing like that. It can make you hate someone you loved, or love someone you hated. It can convince you with absolute surety of an experience even if it never happened. In that way I am only human and nothing more. As usual this is a long read and I’m sorry if not especially interesting. I’ll leave you a bookmark to skip to the parts you want to read.
Not quite a year had passed since she had broken my heart, maybe only a few months. A wounded heart makes you forget time and space, makes you unreal in your own mind. Things blend together and I cannot even remember how much time passed between “Katy” and I’s one tryst and when I could again feel like I was real.

At this time I was working in a cubicle of a small office on the second floor of a financial building. I won’t bore you with details but we worked on the retail sales side of the financial industry and my team was small but hard working.

I and three others were brand new to the company and the industry and quickly learning the ropes as we went. I was benefitted by having an amazing manager who both recognized my strengths and fostered my growth. At the entry-level the financial sector is almost entirely female. I was a token male surrounded by an office full of women ranging from 19 to their mid-thirties. For some this would have been a paradise but I couldn’t think of another woman without feeling the grip of the one I’d lost.

Perhaps this sounds pathetic to you but to a young man, exploring the world for the first time and learning about the rigors of life the hardest way possible, having your heartbroken is akin to dying. You lose all sense of self and you don’t even think about talking to another woman. Why would I? Wouldn’t I just have my heart broken yet again? And honestly I didn’t think I would survive another go of this.

However my manager, a 29 year-old blonde woman named Jessica, was a fast friend to me. She was a natural leader, easily the best boss I’ve ever had, and quickly won the loyalty of everyone who worked for her. Personally she and I got on like we had always been friends. Our sense of humor, our life experiences, our values closely mirrored each other and you would have been forgiven for seeing attraction there.

It was an accusation leveled at us by observers more than once. Jessica had confided that our close working relationship – lunch hours together, shopping, texting at our desks. Looking back it should have been obvious to me, too, but here was again faced with a worldly woman who oozed sex appeal and had traveled the world. Who was I to have the confidence to approach her?

She confided in me during a “lunch date” at a local burger joint that she was considering breaking up with her then-boyfriend. I knew they’d been having some issues due to his jealousy and I suppose things had gotten worse now that I was in the picture. I felt embarrassed by that. Who was I to come between two people, whether or not they were meant to be? I’d already done that once before and it had exploded disastrously in my face.

I sat there, watching her with what must have looked like boyhood awe. I dipped my French fries into a cup of blue cheese dressing and listened to her.

“I just can’t do this,” she said, talking about her boyfriend. “I don’t have time for these games, I don’t have time to nurse his ego.”

I listened, trying my best to be a neutral party. I hadn’t worked up the courage to ask if my name had come up in their arguments.

Her phone buzzed and she pressed “ignore”.

“That’s going to start a fight,” she said. “He’s going to ask me what I was doing.”

“You’re at work,” I offered. She shrugged.

“Whatever,” she said. “I shouldn’t have to talk to him like I talk to my toddler.”

She mimicked a patronizing mother’s voice, leaning and saying with added emphasis, “Mommy has to go to work sometimes.”

I laughed. She was so funny. And stylish. She wore a summer dress and covered her chest conservatively but ended in short sleeves that showed ample shoulders. The floral pattern made her look magnificent and it was no wonder she was the frequent recipient of propositions and flirtation. She rarely returned the sentiment.

Within a few weeks we had a work recognition event – a pseudo-optional award ceremony for sales success that would take place in a hotel courtyard with suit and tie. I arrived feeling awkward and ludicrous. I was dressed in a suit and choking myself half to death with that silly purple tie I’d always worn for compliments.

I stood with my coworkers who felt just as awkward. Anna was ravishing, of course. She was also a fashion addict and had bought a new black dress for this very event. In high heels and a tight dress that showed off her delicious cleavage she was a walking bombshell that turned heads.
I was tempted to make small talk with her, maybe ask to get to her know her better, but then Jessica strode in.

I find words fail me here.

To call her beautiful would have been an insult. Perhaps she could have been best likened to a goddess.

Naturally she was pretty but if given the chance to really try she was truly a league of her own. If not for her own bad judgment I doubt any man alive would have had the luck to be with her.

She wore a blue dress that straddled the line between formal wear and evening gown. She looked perfectly suited to red-carpet as she was for rubbing elbows with division managers and department heads.

The dress was conservative, as befitting the industry, but adorned with a tasteful lace pattern at her chest that gave only the faintest hit of cleavage. It was slit design, and if she stood right ample leg could be seen. Her naturally curly blonde hair was tied up behind her, looking like a designer fashion statement that sexily showed off her neck.

She sauntered to our table and greeted us excitedly.
I don’t remember a thing about that night except that it was horrible uncomfortable and every time Jessica placed a hand on my arm at the punch line of a joke or nudged me while listening to the next speech being given my face flushed warm.
She had chosen to sit next to me and the import of that was not lost on me.

Common knowledge has it that you can gauge a person’s interest in you by watching where they look after a joke or a story – subconsciously seeking approval from the object of their affections. Much the same can be said about seating arrangements.

I’ve always found a woman sitting across from you was promising, but sitting next to you was as much a red flag as a Navy flagman on parade. Jessica had chosen the seat to my right, gently nudging out Britney who had been nearer to it when we took our dinner places.

I caught the look Britney gave us out of the corner of her eye; eyebrow raised and lips drawn into a very tight smirk. She had teased me before about Jessica having interest in me but I had humbly declined any such thing.

Have no illusions about my ability to woo a lady. I have none.

If you could have seen me you would have spent the night laughing. This story would have gone a very different direction had I been left on my own to recognize any signal or sign.

We were served our salads and Jessica leaned in, shoulders touching, to ask if I wanted her tomatoes.

“Sure,” I said, struggling to slice a large piece of lettuce into a more edible size. I hadn’t noticed Jessica touching me with her leg as she turned to fork her sliced cherry tomatoes onto my plate.

When we traded funny stories I didn’t notice the way she touched a loose strand of hair while talking to me, or the way she bit her lip staring at me. If anyone else noticed I’m sure it was as loud as a submarine klaxon that there was chemistry though it would have seemed one-sided.

I don’t know why I’m so awkward and I’d like to blame it on my preoccupation with Katy and the funk she’d left me in but in truth I’m just not a lady’s man. What interest any woman could have shown in me I never understood. What about me was attractive to the opposite sex I never knew.

But Jessica persisted. It occurred to me later that she might have joined some of the others in having drinks at the hotel bar before dinner but in the here-and-now I never thought the added contact between us would come from inhibition-lowering cocktails.

One part of me would have thought it a fine explanation for her behavior and felt relieved that it didn’t come from a place of determination. The other part of me would have wondered if this was a case of a drunk man’s words coming from a sober man’s thoughts.

One would have thought my doubts would have been shattered when during the final round of applause and ra-ra speeches Jessica leaned in to say, “Come to the bar and have a drink with me.”

A young man’s mind can rationalize and over analyze everything. Professional boundaries were being shattered and instead of feeling the weight of what roads this could take I instead thought to myself, “This is going to look bad.”

She must not have realized. She must not have thought about things like I did.

I would join her for a drink but keep a respectful distance. I’d have only one and call it an early night, using exhaustion as an excuse.

I had a thirteen dollar scotch and water to nurse while she was on her second martini. I don’t remember what we were talking about. I don’t remember what she said that led up to this moment. I remember being very conscious of our place and of appearances, feeling like the gray suit jacket I wore was sweltering.

She was wonderful. She stood at the bar, leaned against it, playing with a cocktail napkin. The bartender didn’t glance twice at us, more than used to business types tying one on during functions.

Jessica admitted to me she more of a Heineken girl but felt like trying to look classy tonight with me.

“With you,” she had said and I felt like my heart was a rock in my stomach and beating hard enough to rock the hotel’s foundation. Endless noise rang in my ears, drowning out all sound. This was the fight or flight response, I thought to myself. This was my chance to decide what was going to happen.
All those lunch dates, all those jokes, stories, bitching about relationships. It had led me to a hotel bar with a beautiful woman for the first time in my life.

You think when it happens you’ll feel something. You’ll feel adult. Or you’ll feel brave. Or you’ll feel connected to something real.

I felt numb and scared. Like the world was narrowed down to that little slice of wood we were leaned up against. In impossibly slow motion – the result of an adrenaline rush – Jessica leaned in, hand on my shoulder. Her lips grazed my cheek and I felt her hot breath on my ear.

“Excuse me for a minute,” she said, and walked away. I was left there shaking, trying to hide it as I literally brought my drink to my mouth with both hands. No use. The tremor in my hands made me look so stupid, I’m sure.

I felt sweaty and needed to pee and something else… Holy shit. I had a hard on capable of carving glaciers, I realized. My pants were not designed to hide a raging erection and I had to sit down on a stool to hide it down my pant leg.

Twenty four years old and I was back in high school.

What was going on with me?

I was drinking with a beautiful woman and something juvenile in me imagined I had a shot.

She’s your boss, I reminded myself, and six years older than you. She doesn’t want you.

She returned from the bathroom, I assumed.

“Hey,” she said. “Having fun?”

“Yeah. I haven’t had a drink in a long time,” I answered. It was the truth. I’m not a drinker by nature and I could scarcely remember the last time I was anywhere near a fancy hotel bar where people dressed formally were sat drinking.

“What else haven’t you done in a while?” she asked me, and she was suddenly very close to me, hand gripping my arm. She was sliding something towards me, pressing it into me hand.

“Holy shit,” I think I said aloud.

A room key. This was every fantasy, every hope, every porno watched at midnight rolled into one heady mixture that had me drunk off the first sip.

“Don’t fucking say a word,” she said, voice suddenly harsher. She was afraid, I realized. I finally looked into her eyes and saw what I had hidden from myself. She was afraid of where we were going, what was about to happen. She had been the whole night and she had knocked back two martinis in nervousness.

“Don’t say a word,” she said. “I’m going to walk away. Ten minutes. It’s eight o’clock right now and if you are nowhere to be seen by eight thirty I go home. No harm, no foul and we *never speak of this* again.”

She didn’t wait for a response. She turned and left, headed for the elevators. I looked down at my hand and saw the room key in tunnel vision. Room 307.

I don’t know if I had really been there for ten minutes or for two. I stared at the key for a long time and threw back my scotch in one throat-burning gulp. I needed it, although I regretted it when it churned my stomach as I peeled away from the bar.

I wish I could tell you that I spent time seriously considering what I was about to do. I wish I could say I weighed each option carefully and thought through every possibility before decided to take that elevator ride to the third floor.

I didn’t. Of course not.

When a hot woman gives you a key to a hotel room you don’t think you *do*. Any pretense of rational thought goes out the window.

Looking back it was so stupid of me. So many things could have gone wrong. So many things could have blown up in our faces. This could have shattered our relationship. This could have cost us our jobs. What if a coworker had seen?

But by the time I reached room 307 I hadn’t given a single thought to anything but the deafening silence the moment had filled me with.

~~~~~~~~

I entered the room and let the door shut beside me.

I think Jessica had been sitting on the bed because she looked flustered and surprised, face blushing tremendously.

She tried to speak. Maybe she had said, “I thought I said ten minutes” or “I didn’t think you would come”.

I didn’t speak.

I’d too much pent-up frustration. Too much time spent brooding over my own hurt. I didn’t have another instant to waste on second-guessing myself. It was now or never and never was not an option.

I grabbed her suddenly and without warning. This was the one true demonstration of manhood I can lay claim to, the one thing I can say I’ve done that marked as brave and masculine.

We kissed, hot and wet and horny.

Our mouths met and her lips parted to accept my tongue. I tasted her and she was sweet.

Her hands were grabbing for me, gripping my shoulders and then pushing my suit jacket off and to the ground. My own hands roamed, starting at her cheek and shoulder and finding their way down to her ass and squeezing. She moaned into me and broke away to bite my neck, smearing her lip gloss on me.

She tugged at my tie and pulled it apart, and I pressed her towards the bed.

She lay back, leg exposed, thigh eager for my touch. I felt her, squeezing the soft flesh of her white thighs. She squirmed and moaned.

“I can’t believe-“

I didn’t let her finish. My hand hurried its way up her thigh to her crotch and felt the wetness there. She was ready for it. I slid down and she placed her hands urgently on my head.

I was on my knees at the foot of the bed, level with her body and straining through my pants for her.

My hands hooked her underwear and I slid them off her body as we held each other’s gaze. I can honestly say this was the most erotic moment of my life.

I pulled her panties off her legs and she gently pushed her heels off. She spread her legs, and I hiked up her dress to see my prize.

Jessica was fully shaven, and clean. I could see the lips of her sex were wet with anticipation of me.

I didn’t hesitate, all fear gone from me.

The first lap of my tongue drew a sharp gasp. She opened her legs wider and thrust her hips towards me. I licked again, and again, drawing moans and gasps and tugs at my hair. She was twisting in my hands and I held her hips firm.

“Baby, I’m wet,” she said. “Fuck me, don’t eat it.”

I ignored her and kept at it, licking and slurping and sucking her clit into my mouth. She was groaning intensely now and grinding against me. I pulled her hips to me, practically burying my face in her pussy and enjoying every second.

My heart was pounding and I couldn’t believe this was me. I couldn’t believe I had been lucky or chosen by God. I had finally forgotten about that girl who’d betrayed me. I didn’t think of her for the first night in months. I thought of nothing but Jessica, and she pulled me up towards her nothing else existed but her.

“Baby, fuck me,” she gasped. “I need it. I need it *so* bad.”

She pulled my dress shirt off, working the buttons as fast as she could. We didn’t wait to get my pants or my shoes off. She had my belt unbuckled faster than I could do it myself and she reached into my open pants and fished out my cock.

The feeling of her soft hands around me could have made me cum if I weren’t so nervous. I’m no porn star and fully aware that I’m as average sized as they come but somehow she made me feel like a champion.

“Fuck yeah,” she whispered as she guided the head to her slick womanhood. Between my slobber and her natural juices I slid in so quickly we were both taken by surprise. She let out a loud moan and so did I.

We paused for a second, her taking me in and me calming myself down before I blew my load right then.

She was still in that killer blue dress. My pants were around my knees.

She kissed me, not caring her lubrication covered my face. Practically licked it out of my beard.

It was so hot, so sexy. I thought I might throw up from the excitement. Instead, with her urging, I began pumping her in and out.

My cock glided effortlessly and every stroke sent electric pleasure resonating into my gut. I had never been so eager to fuck.

I thrust harder, rattling the frame of the hotel bed.

She started grunting and her legs were wrapped around me. She was grabbing her feet, I realized, and encouraging me to really, really fuck her.
I started to thrust harder, harder, harder until I was fucking her into the mattress and practically making her shout in pleasure.

“Fuck!” she moaned. “Yes! Come on, baby, come on!”

I was going fast and hard, slamming into her roughly and I could feel a climax welling up inside me. It had been a long time since I’d been this aroused or fucked this energetically and I knew it was going to be an explosion.

She cried out as she orgasmed, shaking and clutching me. She pulled me in tight and I struggled against her to pump my cock once more, twice more, and then a final time as I too climaxed.

I exploded into her, as I expected, forcefully and with a moan. She writhed and arched her back, gasping in short, sudden gulps of air. My manhood throbbed within her countless times, pouring God knows how much cum into her. The power of each pulse brought another moan and more writhing from her.

“Oh my God,” she squeaked out, grabbing me by the hips.

We were left breathless and laying tangled in each other. I stared into her eyes, my nervousness gone and every sensation on fire. I had just had amazing sex but something wasn’t right. There was no finality, no true satisfaction – the kind you feel deep down within yourself after a really good lay like we’d just had. We were two animals but it wasn’t enough.

I pulled out of her, drawing a groan from deep in her throat as I did. She was shaking and I stared down at her as she ran her hands over her thighs and very near to her pussy, brushing the lips with the very edge of her finger. It was sensitive and her whole body twitched when she did it.
I was still hard, I realized. My manhood stared down at her angrily, pulsing slightly with my heartbeat and slick from her body.

Wordlessly I grabbed her and turned her over, yanking her onto her knees. She knew what was happening and reached back to unzip her dress. I let it fall off her shoulders but no further, not wasting a second on formalities. She’d have to walk away in the morning with a badly wrinkled dress, with sex stains along the hem.

I gave a jab with my hips, guiding myself with one hand, and entered her from behind. We fucked hard and fast again, our bodies slamming together in wet, sticky noise. She was moaning loudly into a pillow, screaming each time our bodies met.

It made me feel like a superstar. I’d never had any bad reviews from partners but the way her body reacted, the noises she made, the way she twisted around to see me fuck her doggy style… It was like I was a real stud.

I grabbed her hair out of its up ‘do, getting a fistful of her curly blonde locks for leverage. I thrust hard, and saw it ripple up her body. She reached out and grabbed the headboard, grabbed bunches of the sheets in her fist.

She let out a low, deep groan and moaned my name. She begged me not to stop and I obliged.

She was shaking incredibly now, grabbing her breast and my wrist and the bed and a pillow and her hair.

“Waitwaitwait,” she gasped, reaching back to push me away. I pulled out of her and stood up, using the break to finally undress fully.

She rolled over onto her back, looking down between her knees at me.

“Oh, my God,” she gasped. She sat up and rubbed her eyes and at the mascara that was running down her cheeks. “I need a minute.”

She said, “mmm” and stood up. Jessica shrugged off her dress and walked naked to the bathroom. I could hear the sink running and took a few steps over to see her reflection in the mirror. She was getting a drink of water and letting out slow breaths to calm down. Her knees were unsteady but she held herself up on the counter, reaching to grab a washcloth to wipe off her makeup.

I guess breaks weren’t my thing because I walked in, hard on bobbing with each step, and I took a knee behind her. I grabbed her ass and pulled her into my face, licking at her pussy again. When she was wet enough I stood and she tried to talk me down but it was no use.

I entered her again and fucked her while we watched ourselves in the mirror. This lasted only a few minutes before she was pushing me off.

She led me by my dick to the bed and directed to be lie back. I did as I was told and she mounted me.

She started softly, rocking her hips back in forth and moaning quietly, like a purring cat.

Soon she was bent over me, offering her nipples while I held her by the ass and was thrusting up under her. She was back to moaning loudly and grabbing the headboard for the leverage to fuck me back.

She had another orgasm, shaking on top of me. I wasn’t close.

“Fuck, you’re a real all-nighter,” she said. She slid off me and collapsed next to me.

“Do you need a break?” I asked. She shook her head.

“I’m done,” she said with a laugh. “I can’t do anymore. My pussy’s so sore.”

I was about to say OK and try to relax myself but she hopped up onto her knees and bent down to take me into her mouth. I sucked in air and thrust a little bit. She wrapped her hand around me and started bobbing her head up and down insistently. It felt amazing, and I could feel her tongue wrapped around my head, urging me on.

I reached over to play with her and she moved herself so we could 69. I happily ate her out again while she gave me some of the best head of my life. She had my balls in her hand and squeezed them while she took a long draw on me.

I was writhing under her like she did for me earlier.

“Are you close?” she asked.

I managed an “Uh-huh.”

“OK, baby, give it to me.”

She started jerking and sucking hard and fast, getting me really slick with her spit to lube up her hand. She brought her mouth down around my shaft, and then back to the very tip of my head, all the while stroking and jerking with her hand. It was better than any time I’d jerked myself off, if that were possible.

My face was buried in her snatch and I could only manage a wordless series of murmurs to let her know I was going to cum.

I expected her to finish me with her hands but instead she kept sucking even as I began thrusting up and grunting. She stroked out the first few pumps of my climax and then sucked the rest out. When I finished she swallowed and continued to suck me and run her tongue over my head. I thought I might pass out from the sensation but she let me out of her mouth before I could lose complete consciousness.

She rolled off me and we lay like that for a while.

We made love in the morning – really made love – and then dressed and returned to our homes.

Monday morning was awkward for neither of us. It was like it had never happened and yet when we looked at each other there was nothing else there but the secret of that night we’d shared.

We never had sex again, though she did offer once to give me a blow job in her office after I commended her skills in that department. She took a promotion shortly afterward and we were relegated to texting each other. Sometimes I think of asking to meet up, but sometimes I think it’s better for things to be this way. The memory of a night of unrestrained passion is somehow better than trying to capture it again.

As for Katy… well, I’d like to say that Jessica cured me of whatever hang up I had but the truth is that a broken heart doesn’t get fixed by sex no matter how amazing. A broken heart can only be fixed by the one who broke it but Katy wasn’t exactly blowing up my phone to get a shot at it.
But Jessica did help me feel a bit more like the old me. She gave me back a spark of life that Katy had snuffed and even if it was going to be a long road to getting better I at least had a good time on it.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6ct5te/that_killer_blue_dress_mf