Gemma was a twat. She irritated the snot out of me. That’s probably why the sex was so good.
My despair for Gemma grew bit by bit, the clack of her nails on her keyboard, the coffee stains on her desk, her insistent need to tap her heels against the bottom of her foot. She was also a gossip and my cubicle mate, I was in hell.
“Pssst Kennedy” whispered Gemma. I kept typing, hoping she would give up. I was in no mood to have gossip time this morning. I had gone out the night before to the local lesbian bar to dull my pain by burying my face in some early twenty bi curious coeds pussy, and I had succeed. I had a rough time after breaking up with my girlfriend Chole and decided to fuck my way through the emotional damage instead of getting help like a rational adult, but C’est la vie.
“Pssssssttt Kennedy”
“What do you want Gemma” I hissed not hiding my displeasure in my tone.
“I’ve got some juicy gossip about the latest office tryst but I can see you woke up on the wrong side of the bed this morning” she rolled her eyes. I hate it when women roll their eyes.