[MF] My work-wife

Tammy and I were sent “to keep the lights on” for our company when the last big hurricane hit the east coast. The company sent us to a town just east of Chattanooga. We live fairly close together, so we decided to carpool it, because it’s a long drive, and also because I have 4-wheel-drive in case it was needed.

Tammy is our customer service director. She’s early-thirties, bright natural red hair, the nervous kind of shy that goes away after a drink or two. She’s a nerd who is afraid to be seen as a nerd, and tries *so* hard to be “basic” even though it doesn’t suit her at all. She fails miserably at it, which is one of the things always found cute about her. Also, she’s genuinely one of the nicest people you’ll ever meet.

If you’ve ever heard the phrase “The driving rain,” this was that. By the time we finally headed west, water was hitting my windshield so hard that I suspect I’d have gone backwards if I put it in neutral. We managed to stay an hour or so ahead of the worst of the storm, although there were times where it was all I could do to see a few feet to the hazards on the driver ahead of me. It was a long, slow, painful road to Chattanooga made less painful by the excellent, chatty, and occasionally musical company of Tammy.

I’m married, and although my wife and I are open, I’m not “out” about that at work. If Tammy hadn’t come along, I’d say I would *never* date someone from work, so there’s no reason to be out. If you’re out, people just get afraid you’re going to hit on them and it gets weird.

For the few years I’ve worked for the company, though, Tammy and I have always been the kind of work-friends who don’t become closer friends because we both deep down know that it’d escalate quickly from friends to Friends, and the whole workplace would know, and it’d be a whole big scandal. So we’ve gone to lunch once or twice, and we’ve flirted in the hallway in the most awkward ways possible — like her referring to me as her “work husband” in front of my entire team — and we hung out at company party functions until one or the other of us got drunk enough to realize we needed to walk away before something happened.

Somewhere in Georgia the rain finally dwindled to a fine mist. Tammy found a karaoke station on XM (I swear there’s a station for everything) and started belting out 90s hits from the passenger seat. The last hour of the drive got to be a hell of a party. Despite the fact that we’d had no alcohol at all, we were yelling Love Shack at the top of our lungs through the Appalachians.

We got to the hotel the company had booked for us at 11pm, soaked, exhausted and our throats sore from all the singing. Tammy went up to the counter while I hauled our bags in. As I got in, I overheard the clerk say “You only have one room reserved under that name, ma’am. And we’re booked up completely due to the storm. I can call another hotel for you…”

I shook the rain off and walked up to the counter, “What’s up?” Tammy looked exasperated.

“She says there’s only the one room left. Somehow the company screwed up our reservation or these guys did somehow. I’ve called a couple of hotels. There’s jack. What do you want to do?”

“Well, we’re not driving back, that’s for certain. I don’t much want to try Chattanooga. It’s probably just as booked.” We both kind of looked at each other for a minute, wondering whether it was okay to suggest what we were each about to suggest. She knows I’m married. She’s very single. We’re both attracted to each other, but each of us suspects the other one isn’t really.

She blushed, maybe at the awkward silence, or maybe at the suggestion she was about to make, “I guess we’re taking the room.” She turned back around to the clerk, “Is there a rollout or anything?”

“We could bring up a cot…”

“Sure, that works.”

“Well, this is … cozy.” The cot looked like something out of an army surplus store. Once you unfolded it, there was almost no room to walk around in the hotel room at all. We took turns volunteering for it, each insisting that we’re better. She was smaller. I was a heavy sleeper. I’m used to hard mattresses. And so on. She finally won, and went to the bathroom to change into pajamas.

I walked back out to Tammy red faced and trying to get into the cot with her clothes fully on. She looked up at me, turned bright red, and stammered “I — I didn’t pack pajamas. Nightgown. Anything. I didn’t think we’d be in the same room.”

It was my turn to blush. This was my coworker. We were stuck like this. It would be fine. We’re just coworkers, “Um… I mean, we’re both adults. I’ve seen a woman less than fully clothed before. We’re going to be stuck here for days. I’ll turn my head.”

“Yeah, alright. Just, uh… Yeah. That works.” I turned my head. The second I heard her jeans button pop, my ears ramped their sensitivity up to eleven. I heard her unzip, pull her pants down, pull her shirt up over her head, unsnap her bra, slip out of each sock, and finally pull off her panties. *A* *naked sleeper, damn*. I don’t know whether she really did it all in slow motion, or whether I just hyper-focused on it and it *seemed* to take forever. I swear I could feel her eyes on me as she undressed. Despite the fact that I was turned away from her, and I was under the covers, I *knew* that somehow she could see my erection. Finally she tucked into bed and turned out the light. She flipped out the light and I was safe, “G’night, work husband!”

I giggled uncomfortably, “G’night, work wife.” And lay there trying to get to sleep with an erection that was going nowhere. I listened to my breathing. I listened to her breathing. Eventually I heard her slip from trying to go to sleep to actually asleep, and I slipped out of my pajamas. I’m a naked sleeper too and I can’t ever actually go to sleep with them on.

I grabbed hold of my cock. I thought about what she would look like if those covers came off. I pumped myself a few times and got rock hard in my hand. I really wanted her. Short of that, I really needed to beat off. And then I thought, “Don’t be a creep,” and let go reluctantly. Then I fell asleep and dreamed of sex.

When I opened my eyes in the morning, she’d thrown the covers off in the night and was lying there, naked in the morning light, still snoozing. Her freckled face was peaceful. Her breasts were perfect and just as covered in freckles. They drooped just a little as she lay there on her side, and I wanted nothing more than to have my face buried in them. Her hips had the most beautiful curve. She was starting to wake up, and I pretended to be asleep.

Then I heard her say “Oh shit!” I looked over instinctively as she gathered the covers up. As soon as she saw me, her eyes widened, she dropped everything, and bolted to the bathroom and shut the door. She yelled “shit!” one more time behind the bathroom door, and when there weren’t any more sounds for a minute, I hazarded an “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to look!”

“Yeah… I fucking didn’t actually bring any clothes in here with me. I’m sorry I yelled like that. You didn’t do anything. I’ve never had a coworker see me completely fucking naked before. Could you, uh, go — god this is embarrassing — find me a bra and some underwear and maybe a shirt and jeans? I don’t know that I’m ever going to come out of the bathroom, like ever again, but if I do I will *definitely* want to be dressed.”

She was doing her best to sound okay, but I could tell she was close to tears. “Sure. You want me to tell you about the time I walked around an entire professional conference with my fly undone for like a whole day?”

“Was your dick actually hanging out?”

“Uhh, no?”

“Then I’m gonna need something more embarrassing,”

“I could flash *you*. Then we’d be even.”

She paused a long second, as if mulling it over, “Ha.”

“Go ahead and take a shower. I’ll find you some clothes, we’ll go get some coffee, and see if we still have a company,”

What finally did us in was *boredom.* It was a mist-filled day where you could do nothing more but get slightly damp while walking between places to get a hot meal. We went to the coffee shop with our laptops, downed a ridiculous amount of caffeine between us, and worked. The power was on back home, the internet was fine, and the company was more or less working fine albeit slowly. We weren’t needed unless something blew up. We ate scones, drank lattes, and I dug into code and her into reports.

About 3pm Tammy got a text from her boss. “Well, shit. Wendy says we’re going to be here at 2-3 more days. Apparently there’s more coming, and there’s a bunch of road closures between us and home.” I looked at the weather. It was indeed dismal. I’d finally had it with the tension and the boredom and the silence. I said “When I was in elementary school, I thought that the state lines were cliffs, so I yelled at the teachers and the bus driver when I found out that the field trip we were going to was in the next state. In front of the entire class I had a complete meltdown and tried to get them to turn the bus around and take a plane so we wouldn’t fall off a cliff. I don’t even remember how long everyone laughed at me”

Tammy giggled at first, then started laughing in earnest, “Oh my god, I was *such* a dumb kid. I don’t know how I even made it to adulthood. I remember taking mom’s antiperspirant and rubbing myself down with it from head to toe because I thought it was perfume and that’s what you did with it.

“I set the yard on fire with a magnifying glass.”

“Wait, what?”

“You know how you could burn holes or patterns in leaves with one? I tried it with newspaper”

“Ha!”

“It was the neighbor’s yard, too. He put it out and I ran away and I never said anything. I bet he did, though.”

She visibly relaxed kind of all at once, “You want to get a drink? Company seems fine without us.”

“Yeah, let’s go.”

If you didn’t know already that she was a true redhead (I did), her alcohol tolerance would give it away. She so much as smells alcohol and she’s a different person. Not in a bad way. One glass of wine and all the nerves boil away, and she’s this relaxed, chilled out woman with all the self-confidence she lacks when she’s stone-cold sober. Two glasses, and there will be karaoke. There were three before dinner and two after. We sang everything from the Rainbow Connection to Good Morning Starshine (and she did it with the Montgomery Burns voice somehow).

We had a *great* time, and after a bit of time on a bar couch to sober up, we headed back to the hotel. She flopped down on the bed and declared “I’m not taking the cot!” I shrugged and sat down on the cot, but she grabbed my hands, “You’re not taking the cot either. This is a silly. It’s a *king!*” She said with an exaggerated voice. She dragged me over to the bed and pulled me down next to her.

We laid there for a second, both wondering what was going on in the other’s head. But then I saw a flicker of something in her eye and I knew I had to kiss her. I pulled her toward me. Our lips met and two and a half years of pent up energy and several tense hours gave way. We were fierce. She kissed like a slightly drunk crazy Irish redhead. Her lips went to my neck and my hands went up the back of her blouse. Her skin was hot under my hands.

I don’t know how long we made out before I got the courage to unhook her bra, but I’d felt every inch I could reach underneath her clothes first. As soon as I felt the pop from her class,I felt a matching pop from the button on my trousers and undo them. In no time we were naked and she was sucking on my cock. She felt every bit as good as I imagined she would. I slid my fingers between her legs and they came back wet. As she sucked me I fingered her, and before I got close she started to breathe hard. She let go of my cock and leaned into my hand. Her face turned redder than her hair, and she yelled out “Andy! Fuuuuuck!” and came hard.

She laid down next to me smiling, but her smile melted away when she looked in my eyes and she got a far off look. Then I remembered, *she doesn’t know that was okay!* She started to say something, but I stopped her with, “Sophie and I are open, Tammy. We have been since we met. We haven’t done anything wrong.” She stared at me for a second longer, stunned into thoughtful silence. I grabbed my phone and started texting my wife,

“Hey sweetie. How’s the house? You know how I said I’d never sleep with a coworker? Well that was a total failure.” I hit send and handed the phone to Tammy. The reply came back immediately. “House is good. Cats say hi. Told ya. You and Tammy have been working on a thing forever. She’s awesome. You all have fun.”

Tammy handed the phone back to me, her face oddly intense. At first I thought I’d done the wrong thing. She bit her lip, “I just had a married man’s cock in my mouth. I just had a married man’s fingers inside of me. And I knew the whole time.”

“I… I mean, we’re open. It was 100% okay.”

“But *I* didn’t know that. I *knew* you were married and I kissed you and grabbed your cock and came on you. Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had sex? Like a year. Maybe more than that. I lost track. I *wanted* you. I still want you. But I’m a fucking slut.”

I didn’t know what to say to that. “I like sluts. I think they’re awesome.”

She put her head up on her hands and looked at me dead in the eye. “That doesn’t mean that I don’t deserve to be punished.” Oh. ‘OHHHHH’ I thought as it dawned on me where this was going. “I want you to spank me. Hard. Please.” Who can say no to that? She looked at me like she was afraid I thought she was a freak.

I kissed her. “Bend over.”

She grabbed a pillow, and just before she buried her face in it she said “Don’t hold back. I want to feel the sting of your hand when I sit at the coffee shop tomorrow.” I did not hold back. I hit her ass with a flat hand over and over, switching sides, sometimes soft, sometimes as hard as I could hit. She screamed into the pillow, but between swipes would almost whisper “More. Again. Harder.” She dripped from between her thighs onto the bed. She cried into the pillow towards the end, but still begged me to make her feel it. My hand gave out and she flipped her over on her back. She was sweating. Her face was red. Her breasts were red. Her hair was tangled. Her mascara ran from tears, but she had that giant grin back on her face. She was glorious to look at. I ran to my backpack and got out a condom.

“You carry condoms?”

“I am in an open marriage. I always carry a couple Just in case.”

“Huh. I guess that makes sense. Let me. I’ve not gotten to put one of these on a guy in forever.”

Our first time took almost no time at all. I was still hard from being sucked off, from spanking her, from the sight of her ass in the air, and from 2 years of desire. I exploded into the condom in just a few minutes and lay panting by her side. As soon as we caught our breath we were kissing again, and I grabbed the other condom I had brought and got it on. On the second go around we took our time. She felt amazing. She also wasn’t gentle, and it was clear she didn’t want me to be gentle. Her nails dug into my back when I thrust into her the way she wanted me to. I left welts on her breasts with my lips and teeth, careful to stay below any modest shirtline. We looked into each others’ eyes as we fucked hard and slow. I paused in the middle to go down on her, just because I wanted to hear and feel her come for me again. I thrust back into her while she came. Finally I felt it well up again inside me. This time I pulled out, ripped off the condom, and came onto her belly and breasts.

I licked up a drop or two of it off her waist, and then I came up to kiss her. She went for tongue, “Holy shit, that’s hot. No-one’s ever done that before.”

“Ha. You seemed like you wanted to taste me earlier.”

“I did. You taste *good*.” she said. I kissed her again. Then I watched her walk away to get a washcloth and clean up. Her ass was amazing and still very bright red. She brought back a glass of water for us both and we flipped the light out and nestled down in each others’ arms.

“Oh my god. Wow. Hi there, work-husband.”

“Hi there work-wife.”

We laid there for awhile, just holding onto each other until we fell asleep.

We woke up the next morning still in each other’s arms. We were very happy to be stuck in that hotel for a full week. Now six months later she’s still my work-wife, and I’m still her work-husband and we’ve consummated our work-marriage at every opportunity.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/asf0uf/mf_my_workwife