The Shane Journals

JJ...The Secretary

1/1/2017 14:15pm

Blog Post 127 Draft Saved

“Happy New Year to Me”

My boss is a bastard of a man. He’s also drop-dead gorgeous beyond reason, but most of the time I’m wishing he would just be that title without the gorgeous attached to it. He knows that his looks and body are a woman’s wet dream and his arrogance knows no bounds. He propositions anything with a humanoid form that he thinks is worthy of tangling with the almighty swerve of his hips. Unfortunately, I seem to make that list of potential, worthy conquests. I have a file of about six months worth of sexual harassment notes for a very easy case, but for some reason I haven’t decided to go to HR or hire a lawyer yet. I can admit that I am attracted to what I see through the glass walls of the office I sit outside of throughout the week. Although, that attraction went to an extent of only when I could watch him on mute. As soon as he’s within earshot he becomes the ugliest person in the world spewing his chauvinistic, slightly racially prejudiced banter.

That is why it boggles my mind when it comes to his vivacious wife. Mrs. Beverly Lewis is all woman. She’s all legs. Strong legs with voluptuous curves to match. Her deep, sultry voice sends shivers through me. Her pale, green bedroom eyes set in her finely structured face. They’re perfect accents for her full lips, sun-kissed skin, and her shoulder-blade length, chestnut brown hair with honey streaks.

I hadn’t thought much about my sexuality growing up. Just as most young women growing up thinks, I automatically assumed that I was as straight as they come. Then I got hired into Greco Media Networks headquarters six months ago, with a great recommendation from my favorite college professor, to become the assistant to the network’s CEO, Dorian Lewis. And with getting his gluten-free, non-MSG meals, I am also responsible for sending his wife flowers every Friday and running interference when she pops up to the office without notice. About 85% of those times, Mr. Lewis can be found in a local suite with silicon tits in his face or in his office with the glass frosted and him bending clients over his desk. Those instances have given me plenty of quality time with Mrs. Lewis. Somehow, I keep coming up with unused excuses and distractions. We’ve gone on walks on the beach surrounding the building, had lunch dates to the nearby restaurants, and talked for hours on the phone. Some may think she comes off a bit brassy and diva-ish, but to me, she’s been sweet and a real friend. I don’t understand what she’s doing with a tool like Mr. Lewis. She can have any rich bastard wrapped around her finger she desires. I’ve even hinted at my boss’s infidelity to her - you know, all sister in arms or what have you - but she’s never taken the bait. So that’s why it was like a slap in the face when she came up to me last night and dared to utter the words, “JJ, I know you’ve been sleeping with my husband.”

The office New Year’s Eve party was last night. I should have known something was up when Mrs. Lewis walked into the bathroom after me and locked the door.

“Hey Bev,” I’d given her a quizzical look through the mirror, pausing with the reapplication of my lipstick. She didn't respond to me but marched forward and checked the occupancy of each stall. I threw my tube back in my beaded clutch and turned to face her.

“Beverly, are you ok? What are you doing?”

She came to stand before me. Close enough to where I had to crane my neck to look up to meet her eyes. My 5’4 height barely reached her shoulders normally but even with my really high heels and her modest pumps, she still towered over me.

“It’ll be Mrs. Lewis to you for now on,” she snapped.

I whipped my head back and frowned, “Ok...what’s wrong? Did I do something wrong I’m unaware of to you?”

She gave me a haughty laugh and leaned into my space, “JJ, I know you’ve been sleeping with my husband.”

It took me longer than it should have to register what she’d said to me because her perfume was intoxicating. We’d never stood so close to each other. My head had been in a daze. I was so focused and enchanted by her glossy red lips. The way her straight hair kept whipping forward with her movements. The way her satin, green gown dipped in the front, giving me a very tantalizing view of her cleavage, and hugged her hips. It took me a moment to snap my eyes up to hers and even then her glaring globes had me transfixed. I shook my head and avoided her eyes, my face hot. I hoped she couldn’t read what I was thinking on my face. Then it registered what she’d said. I mean, fully registered. I snapped my eyes back to her in shock. I opened my mouth but no sound came out as I gaped at her.

A derisive unladylike snort fell from my lips, “What?”

“You heard me, “ she put a hand on her cocked hip.

I folded my arms, “No, I don’t think I did, because I certainly couldn’t have heard you correctly when I thought I heard you accusing me of sleeping with your husband, who is my boss.”

“Don’t act like you’re all high and mighty now. You should have thought about that before sleeping with another woman’s husband.”

My nose wrinkled in horror and disgust, The audacity!

“Look, I’m going to say this once, respectfully, and then I’m going to move on whether you believe me or not because just thinking about it makes me want to throw up all over this rented Vera Wang. I am not, have never, will not absolutely ever sleep with Dorian Lewis.”

She started pacing, “I don’t believe you. I see the way he looks at you. There are pictures of you on his phone. Intimate pictures of you outside of work.”

My stomach twisted. That just wasn’t right. “How in the hell...now that’s just fucking creepy!”

“Plus, you’re always pulling me away, trying to distract and keep me away from him. You want him all to yourself,” she continued on, ignoring my assertion.

“Bev- Mrs. Lewis, trust me. I do not want any part of that man to myself. The only reason it seems like I’m always trying to distract you or keep you away from him is because -.” I stopped myself before I got myself fired.

True, in the past I’d tried to hint to her about her lying, cheating husband out of female solidarity. But hinting and revealing the total truth are two completely different things. I’m not trying to get between the Lewis’ even more than I involuntarily was already. I was thinking about my career, nothing and no one came before it. Plus, the act of risking getting terminated from one’s job was saved for actual friends and family. While I had thought Beverly Lewis and me had become close, she on the other hand did not view me as a friend obviously. Otherwise, she would have never accused me of having an affair with her husband. That was wrong on so many levels.

“What?” she stopped in front of me again, looking down her straight nose at me. “What were you about to say? Why do you try to keep me away from him if you’re not fucking him? Does he tell you to distract me? Dorian doesn’t want me around does he?”

I softened a bit at her last words. I hated to hear how low my boss was bringing such a wonderful lady down. He didn’t deserve her.

“Mrs. Lewis, I’m sorry you’re feeling this way. I really think you should speak to Mr. Lewis about all of this. I don’t want to get in the middle of you two. I promise that I am not the one sleeping with your husband. I am just his lowly assistant. I wouldn’t do that to another woman, let alone you. I thought we were friends or at least close enough to never disrespect each other this way. “

Her lip trembled and then she got it under control, her face once again fierce. “What do you mean, you’re not the one sleeping with my husband? Does that mean you know who is? He really is having an affair?”

Uh oh, right?

I shook my head and tried to slowly inch my way towards the door.

“I didn't say that,” I nervously blurt. “Mrs. Lewis, please go have this conversation with your husband. It's almost midnight. He's probably looking for you. And I think I'm going to head home now.”

She grabbed ahold of my arm to stop me from leaving.

“JJ, I’m sorry, just please tell me.”

The lady was really breaking my heart. I unwrapped her hand from my arm with my free one and brought her hand to my lips.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Lewis. I hope your New Year turns out better,” I gave her a sad smile before placing a kiss on the inside of her wrist.

I grabbed my clutch from the counter and turned to leave, mumbling to myself, “If I was going to have an affair with a Lewis, it certainly wouldn’t be with the mister.”

A loud gasp sounded behind me. I cringed. Oh shit. My intoxicated ass said that a bit louder than I wanted to.

“What did you just say?” she whispered.

I hurried my steps along to the door without replying.

“No, JJ. Do not leave, come here.”

The clicks of my heels faltered. The curtness of her voice shocked me into turning back around to her. Once I faced her she crooked her finger at me. Holy shit. I shook my head no. The scene I imagined and slightly hoped was producing before me wasn’t happening. It wasn’t real.

“Um, Mrs. Lewis, I don’t know what you think you heard me say, but -.” my voice warbled.

“I heard what you said, clearly. You know you can call me Bev. I said I was sorry. C’mere,” she yanked me into her body. I hadn’t even realized my feet had moved to bring me closer to her.

“Well Bev,” I gasped as she wrapped an arm tightly around me. “I apologize about what I said, you weren’t supposed to hear that. I’m a little drunk and that was very inappropriate.”

“Yes, it was, but don’t be sorry,” she stated with a smirk and then she kissed me.

I threw my hands up to push her away, dropping my bag and then froze. My eyes were wide open in fight or flight mode. My lips were slightly ajar in shock. She took advantage of my opened mouth and thrust her tongue into it. She licked at my lips and then at my passive tongue. She tasted of bourbon and mint. My hands fell to her shoulders, clutching at them as I brought her closer to me. I closed my eyes in awe after hearing her moan. She slid a hand into the hair at the nape of my neck. I was no longer in shock. I was no longer passive. I was hungry and I was filled with heat. I joined in on the kiss, my mind saying motherfuck it. Part of me thought that, that if I stayed rooted in my spot and didn’t touch her, let her do – hopefully - whatever nasty things she thought of, I could appease my guilt. I wouldn’t be fooling around with the boss’s wife, she would be doing everything to me. But I couldn’t stand by idly for long. She tasted and felt so good pressed against my body. I needed more of her, but still…

I broke from the kiss.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I got out with unbelievable force. She trailed kisses down my bared neck in response.

“No,” I moaned without conviction.

“Give me one good reason,” she nibbled at my ear and palmed one of my breasts.

I groaned and stopped her groping hand, but didn’t remove it. “I’ll give you plenty. We’re intoxicated. Your husband’s my boss. You’re using me as payback.”

She twirled me around and slammed me into the sink. She pressed her body into my back, wrapping one arm around my shoulders and the other around my waist. Our eyes met in the mirror.

“But do you really care?” she whispered in my ear.

I swallowed and licked my lips. My throat had gone really dry and my body trembled. Her fingers around my waist trailed down to the hem of my short, black dress. I bit my lip the moment I felt her fingertips against the bare skin of my thigh. My flesh jumped in anticipation as she slowly traced her way towards my inner thigh.

“I won’t tell if you won’t,” she smirked, quirking one of her finely arched eyebrows.

Her fingers found the edge of my panties and pulled them away from the crease of my leg and pelvis. She hesitated only a moment as she stared at me in the mirror. Preparing me for what she was about to do to me. And my body was at her command. I surrendered just a second before she buried two of her fingers within me. I moaned and laid my head back on her shoulder. Motherfuck it.

Her fingers pumped mercilessly into me as the heel of her palm rubbed perfectly against my clit. I couldn't help but to buck my hips in time with her pumping, riding her hand with all that I had.

“Oh yes, yes, yes,” I breathed, getting closer and closer to my climax.

She pushed the top of my strapless, black dress down and pulled one of my breasts out of the top of my corset.

“You know,” she said against my skin as she thumbed and pinched my nipple. “If my husband were having an affair with you, I wouldn't blame him. You are quite the extraordinary piece of ass.”

I clenched around her hand at her words, whimpering, “But I'm n-.”

“Shhh…” she cut me off. She took her hand from my breast to grasp my chin and pull my head forward. “Just look at yourself. All of this golden, brown skin. These full breasts and hips. You're like a sex deity sent to Earth to tempt us all.”

I looked at myself through squinted, sex and alcohol hazed eyes. She pulled out my other breast and began to alternately squeeze and caress them. Seeing her play with my dark areolas made me realize she was right. I was hot! The way my hips ground into her hand that hid beneath my black, laced thong was dirty. I was bared and trembling while she was clothed and controlled. And there was a whole office on the other side of the bathroom door partying that didn't know any better. The scene reflecting back at me made me wetter. I could hear the noises my flood of juices made with the delving of her fingers.

“Your body was made to be pleasured,” she took her fingers from my canal to spread my slickness up and down my mound. Then she pressed directly onto my clit and vibrated her touch.

“Oh my god!” I was close. So close.

I squeezed my eyes shut and fell forward, holding on for dear life to the sink. My co-workers throughout the office could be heard counting down.

“Come on, JJ, give it to me,” she moaned in my ear.

SEVEN!

I was glad to hear that she was just as affected by what we were doing as I was. Her cool exterior was fracturing.

FIVE!

She moved her fingers from side to side faster. I felt so swollen. So hot.

THREE!

“Oh, I'm about to -!”

“Now!” She hissed and pulled my head back by my hair. Then smashed her lips into my own while she ground her pelvis into my ass.

ONE!

I screamed into our kiss, slapping the sink as I came.

Cheers could be heard on the other side of the door. I was grateful for the raucous. It covered my own cacophony of wails. I needed it, because holy shit. I had just brought in the new year with my boss's wife finger-fucking me.

A derisive squeal left my lips when I finished my piece. My hands trembled as I slid my fingers over to press enter on my keyboard. I can’t believe I actually just outed myself and my pervy boss online for all the internets to see. I was really out here flinging myself off the cliff, jeopardizing my burgeoning career. My livelihood. Yet, it was all quite liberating. Of course, there were precautions. I didn’t use real names. While I could care even less than I already did about showcasing my boss’s less than stellar behavior, there was his wife to think about. The real-life, flesh and blood, Mrs. Lewis didn’t deserve to be taken down for her one indiscretion - that I knew of, at least - in response to my indirect revealing of her husband’s infidelity. I wanted to take down the asshole for her, with her.

As for putting myself on blast, I was out of fucks to give. I knew my boss could absolutely ruin me for what I participated in with his wife on New Year's Eve, but I wasn’t worried. He may have the potential to have me by my tits, but I had him by the balls. I was telling the truth when I wrote that I had a whole dossier filled with six months worth of dated and detailed complaints. He was like Greco Media’s very own President Trump. Although, despite all of that, I had to admit, bringing undercover justice to my job was not the only freedom fight I had as my agenda. I was well on my way to twenty-three years of age and I was just now realizing that I pretty much preferred the fairer sex, my own gender, over the opposite. Weren't people supposed to be born gay? Instead, it was more like I woke up like this. Randomly. One moment I was daydreaming about licking Omari Hardwick’s abs, then the next thing I know, I was eyeing Instagram models... like in the Color Me Badd, “I Wanna Sex You Up” way. And I couldn't stay quiet about it. I didn't want to and I loved that I didn't have to. I was out and proud, and I wanted to yell it to the clouds. So I picked the very next best thing. I told the internet. Well...kinda. The world didn't know it was really me becoming a brand new lezzy, save the few people in my circle that followed my blog. I didn't have the ovaries to be that brave. I could wait until my very old, very traditional African mother and father to no longer be privy to my life. There was no need to give them any heart attacks or send them to an early grave. I couldn't even imagine that hypothetical conversation without shuddering. And on that note, I got up to pour myself a very much-needed big glass of Pinot Noir.

I was just taking my first sip when my watch alerted me to an incoming call. I cringed when I glanced at my wrist and saw the caller. I thought about not answering, but both my phone and my laptop rang angrily on my coffee table in the living room. And I knew that even if I didn't answer, she would just keep calling until I did. I pulled at one of the braids in my hair as I trudged over to my phone with a sigh.

“Heyyyyyy bestfran,” I greeted sheepishly.

Dayna’s voice pretty much squawked through the speaker. I didn't even have to put the phone up to my ear.

“‘Bestfran?’ Bitch, stop. I know you were contemplating not picking up.”

She knew me so well. “Wahhh?” I laughed nervously, forcing disbelief into my voice. “I wouldn't do that to my bestfran. Why would I do that?”

“Because you know I'm about to tear into that ass. What the fuck, Nanni? I had to read about your pit stop into lesbo town with the rest of the peasants! Ouch, that really hurts, bitch. Why didn't you tell me?”

I groaned, “It literally just happened like fourteen hours ago.”

“So and? The moment you walked out of that bathroom, your fingers should have been speed texting my ass.”

“I'm sorry Day-Day, it didn't -.”

“And with your boss’s wife, Nanni? What the fuck. You really out here messy messy, being reckless with your career, reputation and everything, shit,” she went on over me.

I bit my lip and rolled my eyes to the ceiling. And this is exactly why I didn't tell you, I thought to myself. I loved my best friend, but Dayna could be annoyingly judgemental some- all the time. She didn't mean anything by it; she just wanted the best for the ones she loved. So if she felt like you were doing something to jeopardize your well-being she didn't have any qualms with letting you know, whether the advice was wanted or not. It wasn't really her fault though, I didn't take it personally. She practically had to raise her little sister her whole life. So she didn't know how to turn off the mother hen routine as it had become her identity.

I decided to cut her off on her tirade when she got to the part about me needing to make sacrificial offerings to my ancestors in order to find any work.

“Day-Day, relax. I've got things covered. I have a backup plan if things get bad.”

“Oh, you do, do you?” She said snidely. “Your backup bet not be that file on your boss you mentioned on your blog, because I shouldn't have to tell you all the ways blackmail could go wrong. Not to mention it's illegal.”

“What are you, my lawyer?” I snapped, my thumb twitching to end the call.

“No, but you're definitely going to need one. I can give you some referrals.”

Meh meh meh, I mocked in my head. Why was I friends with her again?

“You sure do know how to suck the excitement outta things,” I grumbled.

“Oh honey, you know I specialize in putting the excitement into things,” Dayna drawled.

I snorted and shook my head at the thought of Dayna’s night activity.

“And you know,” she continued. “That I don’t have any problems with you living your best freaky life. How many times have I tried to get you to go to Oculto’s with me? I just don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

I sighed, “Yeah, I know.”

“But despite all the craziness, I am happy for you, girl. You’ve been awakened,” she ended dramatically.

I choked on my gulp of wine as I sputtered laughing.

“It’s about time you’ve come over to the dark side with us sexually free perverts,” I could hear the smirk in her voice. “So what are you? A lesbian? Bi? Just curious? Bi-curious? Or are you only gay for a ‘Mrs. Beverly Lewis’?”

“Oh my god,” I snorted and then huffed in exasperation. “I have no clue, to be honest. As of right now, I’m just enjoying my newfound attraction. Or as you called it, awakening. And no, it’s not reserved just for my boss’s wife. And yes, I am still attracted to men just not as much. But who knows if that’s just because this is something new right now or if it’ll change in another twenty-three years. It shouldn’t matter though, I don’t need to define it, right?”

“Hell nah, you don’t have to define or explain it to anyone, honey. It’s just interesting to know,” she chuckled. “You took me completely off guard. I would have never thought you’d swing your tongue over this way.”

“Oh my god,!” I squealed. “I’m hanging up now.”

I could hear her cracking up as I ended the call. I shook my head and downed the rest of the wine in my glass. As I was pouring myself one more glass - just one more - my phone vibrated again. I smiled at the text from Dayna.

Sorry I got all Mama Bear on your ass. I promise I’m happy for you. Just worried. I’ll be watching for more stories about your new crazy sex life. GO ON WITCHO BAD LESBIAN -maybe- SELF!

I guess that’s why I was still friends with her. I texted back.

Love you

I didn’t even get to set my phone back down before it alerted me to another message. I was growing slightly annoyed - Dayna couldn’t just leave well enough alone - before I saw who it was that was messaging me.

The racing of my heartbeat gave me heartburn. My eyes were wide as I clicked to expand the message from Mrs. Lewis. I mean I had hoped she’d call or text, but I wasn't expecting anything so soon if anything at all.

JJ, let's meet.

My thighs clenched like they were conditioned to her words. It looked like Dayna was going to get her next story sooner, rather than later.