Author: ReallyAgain12345

It’s been a while since I made my first post, but there was some interest and I had fun writing and reliving it, so figured I’d give you guys another story of ours. A little back story this time. Names changed just in case. Sexy parts start at ***

December 2019

I’m sitting at a bar I frequent quite often, during happy hour, writing holiday cards to my clients. It’s packed in this dark, cozy, downtown bar, standing room only at this point. The person next to me gets up and leaves, and I hear one of the bartenders I know shout, “Scott, over here, next to Christa, you guys should meet anyways.” I’m only half paying attention, the bartenders introduce me to other regulars all the time. Someone sits next to me.

“Hi I’m Scott.” He reaches over to shake my hand.

“Christa, nice to meet you.” I reciprocate the handshake, and in the process notice he’s incredibly good looking, and wearing a shirt from a competing company. I go back to working on my holiday cards. Over the next half hour this guy is asking me all kind of questions about our industry, and I’m really trying to finish the cards before I have to catch my train. At one point the bartender who sat him next to me comes over. Read more »

We’re supposed to be going out for one more drink, since it’s only 5 o’clock and technically we both just got done working. However, we’ve been sitting on a patio with cocktails since 3, and just drove back to my neighborhood. I told him I needed to run upstairs to grab something, but really, I wanted to take my panties off under my dress for our last drink out. He’s standing in the small parking lot behind my apartment, waiting for me, smirking.

“Well, since we’re already here?”

“You want to skip the last drink?” I ask, smiling back, waiting just a moment before I open the back gate.

We don’t, we can’t, kiss in public. Probably ever. I know that’s part of this. He follows me upstairs. This is still new, so I nervous chatter at him something about something being a mess in my apartment. I know he doesn’t care.
I grab the last 2 beers out of the fridge. I usually don’t drink at home, but since this has started, I’ve broken almost all of my rules.

Rule #1 was no more married men. Well, here we are. Read more »