A Double Life
Nothing was the same anymore. After all those letdowns, I didn't care about another relationship and just lived my own wild, reckless life. I went to work like normal, doing my routine stuff, but my mind was totally elsewhere. I just looked forward to the weekends, partying all over the place and throwing all that 'normalcy' out the window. But getting back into the weekly work grind was getting harder than ever. I constantly had to watch what I wore, how I looked, and how I acted. So many times I ended up turning back home to change because it just didn't click that it was Monday again, meaning I couldn't show up to work looking completely inappropriate. This non-stop self-policing was really getting on my nerves, even though morals were loosening up back then, with newsstands on every corner displaying adult magazines and people being much more open on the streets, but a lot of people still didn't get it. To take the edge off this 'misery,' I spent my free time after work prepping for the next weekend, depending on where I was heading or where I got invited. Most of the time I sat at my sewing machine until late at night, altering and shortening my dresses and skirts to the absolute shortest limit possible, sewing stylish outfits and accessories from magazines that you couldn't buy or that I couldn't afford, just waiting to finally go out in them. Not only did I love doing it, but I knew I'd get my money back and could buy more material. That’s why every now and then I’d head out to work in the morning looking completely 'unfit' because my mind was already stuck in my second life.
Sometimes I didn't even notice until I was in the locker room, putting on my work coat, the length of which didn't cover everything necessary, especially when bending or squatting. And while my female colleagues shook their heads, the manager often left his small office, pretending to check the goods on the shelves. He was most interested in the bottom drawers, where he spent a long time, glancing toward me. He likely thought I didn't notice and was focused on my work, but I watched him out of the corner of my eye as he watched me. But I didn't mind at all. On the contrary, it made me feel good, and when I was in a good mood, I would even provoke him. It didn't happen often, but I had already observed his patterns. It was most interesting in the summer when I wasn't wearing tights and the bottom hem of the coat would get caught on my thigh, providing him an unobstructed view. After that, he would disappear into the restroom for a few minutes, then go for a smoke, and I wouldn't see him for the rest of the shift. He was an older gentleman, so why not let him have a bit of innocent fun that also livened up my boring and dull work. I could only guess what he was doing in the restroom, but more than once I noticed a dried white spot on his dark trousers. I must admit it was very flattering, and the thought of it certainly left me feeling aroused. Aside from that, however, he never took any liberties with me, nor did I ever hear any indecent suggestions or remarks from him.
The turning point came one Friday afternoon when a little after-hours party was set up for his milestone birthday. It didn't really fit my schedule since I already had plans for the evening, but I wanted to wish him a happy birthday, so I figured I would hang around for a bit and then do my own thing. The night before, I packed a change of clothes into a plastic bag so I wouldn't have to schlep all the way back home for no reason. Friday's shift was already pretty lively by noon because the girls setting up the snacks couldn't resist the booze display on the table and popped open a bottle to make the work go smoother. The boss didn't mind at all; hell, he was actually encouraging us to do toasts. Luckily, the end of the shift was getting close, and everyone was looking forward to hearing that sweet sound of the door locking. I had to keep reminding myself that I had a long night ahead of me and couldn't overdo it with the "refreshments." My plan was to sit for a minute, change my clothes, make an excuse, and get the hell out. I don't even know how it happened, but instead of heading to the party room, I went straight to the locker room and right into the shower. Right then, I realized I would have to change into my gear for the night out anyway. And thanks to the toasts, which had already fucked up my judgment, I stopped giving a shit. I threw on black fishnets, a loud purple miniskirt, a white blouse with my nipples showing right through, and black heels. I quickly did my hair, touched up my makeup, and tried to sneak in with the others who were already getting ready to wish the birthday boy well. They checked me out immediately, but surprisingly nobody said a word, except for the boss, who stood there with his mouth wide open while I congratulated him, not knowing where the hell to look. When we sat down at the table, he stared at my legs and said, "You look," he paused for a second, "you look amazing today." "Thanks," I replied with a smile, tugging down my mini so I wouldn't provoke him too much. "You're a gift to my eyes all by yourself," he added, and even though the others were talking to him, he couldn't pay attention and kept squirming in his seat. I knocked back a few more shots and thought about leaving. My mind was already somewhere else anyway, and even though everyone was having a blast, it wasn't my crowd. I was horny as hell and excited to finally get laid again after a long week and get a little action on the side. So I just sat there, pretending to care about the conversation at the table, letting it go in one ear and out the other.
Suddenly the boss got up and ran off somewhere. 'Could it be?' I thought, smiling slyly. Normally I wouldn't do this, but given the mood I was in, I followed him. Even from the hallway, I could see light coming from under the restroom door, so I tried to walk over quietly to avoid drawing attention. I stood by the sink outside the door and heard hushed breathing, accompanied by the faint clinking of a belt buckle. 'If this is what I think it is,' I said to myself, looking around for any opening to confirm my suspicion. Unfortunately, there was nothing except the gap under the door, but I wouldn't be able to see anything through that. I thought about trying the handle as if I were just going to the bathroom and hadn't noticed it was occupied, but then I remembered a trick the boys used to do at school. I checked to see if anyone was coming, quietly opened my purse, pulled out a mirror, gently slid it under the corner of the door, and held my breath, trying to find the right angle to see what was happening behind it. And it worked. I couldn't see everything because he was turned toward the toilet, but his hand movement clearly confirmed what I had only suspected until then. I moved the mirror around to see more of the scene, but in vain. Suddenly, I heard him grumbling indistinctly, from which I gathered he was having trouble and was likely going to give up on it. I quickly packed up, returned to the party room like a mouse, and had a shot. My colleagues were happily chatting among themselves and didn't care at all where the birthday man had gone. They had their own fun and topics that needed urgent discussion, even though they talked about them every day, and they completely forgot the reason for the gathering. This was confirmed when the boss returned from the restroom. He sat in his original spot, poured a glass of beer, and stared pensively at the opposite wall. Judging by his expression, I concluded that he had not achieved the desired satisfaction, and since I still had some time left, I decided to let my other self loose. “Cheers, Mr. Manager!” I said, raising my glass to him. “Cheers, cheers. Thank you,” he replied, clinking glasses with me, but instead of looking me in the eyes, he stared intently between my thighs, which I had deliberately left wide apart. It was immediately obvious that he perked up and was trying to catch a better glimpse. “Girl, you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days,” he said with a smile, refilling his glass with beer. “How about we toast to being on a first-name basis?” I suggested, stood up, and, glass in hand, sat sideways on his lap. “Why not, I’d love to,” he replied, thrilled by my suggestion, and we sealed the deal with a hearty toast. He obviously interpreted the “you” thing in his own way; he set down his glass and began gently stroking my leg from the knee up under my skirt, and after a moment he said, “Sorry, I need to use the restroom.” “How about I go with you this time?” I whispered in his ear, holding his hand just as it touched my panties. “What do you mean?” he asked, surprised, with a puzzled look on his face. “Well, so you wouldn’t be alone this time,” I clarified my suggestion. He shook his head while running his finger over my pussy through my panties. “Don’t tell me you didn’t think of that?” I hissed through clenched teeth, because he’d slipped his finger under my panties and started teasing my clit. I clenched my thighs together and gasped. “I see you’ve already found yourself a toy. You don’t have to work me up like that—I can get right to it,” I added, biting my lip. “So, did the thought cross your mind or not?” I asked again. “Well, I’d be lying if I denied it. Yeah, I’ve toyed with the idea, but I’d never dare do anything to you,” he replied timidly. “And not just in your imagination, huh?” I added with a smile, suggesting we have a drink. As I did, I looked around and realized that nothing had changed at the party. A group of female coworkers was still arguing heatedly on one side of the table, and I was with my boss on the other. “I had no idea you were such a minx,” he said with a smile. “You know, I’ve fucked you in my fantasies countless times, bent over the counter. But given our age difference, I preferred to stick to those fantasies rather than embarrass myself,” he added by way of clarification. “Well, I probably wouldn’t just give it to you like that. Just like a coin, I have two sides, and right now you’re getting to know the other one,” I explained briefly, assuming he’d get the hint. “Ohhh, so that’s how it is with you. I never would’ve guessed,” he replied in surprise. “And how much would it cost to turn my fantasies into reality?” he asked. “Well, today I just offered it to you on a whim, but normally we’d definitely agree on some kind of ‘tip,’” I replied, wriggling on his lap. “You really surprised me, even though I had a hunch. There were times you really acted like a slut, but I liked it. Please don’t take offense, but I don’t know how else to put it,” he explained his impressions and began stroking my ass with his other hand. “It’s fine. I don’t mind, and I’m not ashamed of it,” I replied, to dispel his concerns. “It’s my other life, and I try to keep it separate from my everyday life.” “And if you want to, come on, because I'll have to get out of here in a minute.” “I'd love to! Where should we go?” he asked, puzzled. “How about the locker room? Is that okay?” I suggested. “That'd work, but we have to be quiet,” he agreed, somewhat nervously. “Don’t worry, I know how to handle myself in any situation,” I reassured him. “Sorry, I forgot you’re a pro,” he said. “Please stop messing around and just come on,” I urged him, grabbed my purse, and we slipped discreetly into the locker room.
Before I even had a chance to wash my hands, he was standing there with his pants unbuttoned and his throbbing cock in his hand. “You’ve been busy in that short time,” I said with a mischievous smile and took the initiative. After about a minute of handjob while he was breathing heavily, I took off my panties, pulled a condom out of my purse, and squatted down in front of him. I played with him for a while longer, caressing him from below with my palm to get him nice and ready, but just as I was about to put the condom on, he started ejaculating all over my face. Just as I closed my eyes, I could feel the last few drops trickling down my face. “Wow, you’re quite the character. Couldn’t you have given me a heads-up that you were coming?” I tried to say with my mouth still wet, fumbling in my purse for a handkerchief to wipe away the mess. “Wow. It came so unexpectedly, I’m surprised myself,” he replied, taken aback. “I didn’t expect it myself,” he added. “And I really don’t understand where all that came from inside me,” he continued while I was wiping my face. “Well, that’s quite a load, that’s for sure. Even a young guy wouldn’t be ashamed of that,” I confirmed his excitement and began wiping his cock, which, despite the massive load, was still standing proudly toward my eager lips. “Want to go again? What do you think?” I asked, and without waiting for an answer, I put a condom on him and started sucking him off, because after that cumshot I’d gotten fucking horny and needed to come. I spread my thighs wide and started rubbing my clit and fingering myself. I was so caught up in myself that I completely forgot to focus on the blowjob, and instead of making cute movements, I just held it there with my mouth open. I didn’t wait any longer; I stood up, hiked my mini-skirt up over my ass, and leaned against the cabinet. He got the hint right away and slid into me gently, until my knees buckled. I could feel him getting even harder inside me and savored every thrust he gave me. I arched my back and stuck my ass out so he could go as deep as possible, and without him even realizing it, I came beautifully. “I’m about to come, you slut,” he said unexpectedly from behind me, and his thrusts grew more intense. I clenched my pussy and let him enjoy it to the fullest, which didn’t take long. He slowly pulled out, stepped back, and breathed a satisfied sigh. “Now that was a treat,” he said as I took off his condom and wiped his cock. “Oh? Did you like it?” I asked out of habit, to break the awkward silence, while I put on my panties and fixed my clothes. “You know I did, and I loved it,” he replied and kissed me on the cheek. “Come on, let’s have one last goodbye drink, and then I’ve got to go,” I said, taking his hand and leading him back to the table, since he clearly didn’t want to go.
Nothing at all had changed there during our absence, and perhaps no one even noticed we’d been gone. After we’d had a drink, the manager cast a rueful glance at the small group sitting across from us and shook his head. “That’s quite a crowd. But they sure know how to work,” he remarked, then looked at me and added, “Too bad you have to leave. Looks like I’ll be stuck here. Can’t you stay a little longer?” “Unfortunately, no. I have something planned,” I replied, glancing down to see if there were any traces of my locker room adventure left on me. “Sure, I get it. And sorry for cursing at you about it. I kind of got carried away,” he apologized. I looked at him, puzzled. “Well, that word starting with ‘s’,” he clarified. “Yeah, ‘slut,’” I finished for him and started laughing. “Don’t worry about it at all. I’m used to it, and it doesn’t bother me at all,” I reassured him and walked over to the phone to call a cab. “I’m glad to hear that. You know, it was the first time I’d ever been with someone like that. “Thank you so much again for the lovely evening,” he said when I came back. “Thank you, too, for having me, but I’m sorry, I have to go now,” I said as I said goodbye and went to wait outside the store for my ride. Meanwhile, I wondered what would happen when we met at work after the weekend. And I didn’t really care, because I wasn’t enjoying this double life anyway. But nothing happened at all, except for a mutual exchange of smiles when we met in the morning. The manager continued to check the merchandise on the shelves and in the bottom drawers, but with one difference: afterward, he didn’t go to the bathroom; instead, he kept me there after hours to help out.
