The White Intern Ch. 02

The White Intern chapter 2

By DontJudgeMe_

This is a slowly evolving story, but I promise we'll get to the good stuff... eventually.

I enjoy writing it, I hope you enjoy reading it. Please don't read it of a hotwife/cuckold relationship bothers you.

---

"Oh. Hey Connor."

There was nothing unprofessional in her greeting, nothing untoward. Just an employer meeting an employee on her way to the break room. Happened every day, everywhere.

And yet... that smile. Connor told himself there was nothing in it, nothing at all, but still his pulse spiked like crazy.

"Hello, Mrs. Dawson," he answered, as casually as he could, and returned her smile. He tried to match her energy, not too wide a smile, but still showing he was happy to see her.

And he was. He didn't know when it had begun, but over the last few weeks, she had become his favourite colleague. Probably because she always seemed genuinely happy to see him whenever they bumped into one another.

He didn't quite understand it, though. What had changed? Sure, she'd been impressed when he'd brought her his concerns for the new project - but it had come to nothing, after all. She'd already taken care of the problem he'd found. So why these warm smiles? And yesterday, he was pretty sure he'd caught her giving him a long look. But why? He couldn't figure it out.

He forced himself to breathe and decided - again - that it didn't mean anything. That she was simply kind. He would return her kindness and nothing more.

Despite that resolution, he couldn't stop himself from half-turning as she walked past him, admiring her shapely figure. She was wearing a dark-green skirt suit that really enhanced her dignified beauty, and the way she swayed when she walked really drew the eye.

He knew he shouldn't think like that, but it was becoming increasingly difficult just to see her as his boss. He'd even started thinking about her when he was at home.

Which really just spoke to the sadness of his life. He needed to get a girlfriend.

He quickly turned back before anyone noticed him ogling Mrs. Dawson. A deep breath, and he pushed her from his mind - though it was difficult.

---

Naomi watched the young man work. He was cute when he focused. Well, he was also cute when he didn't.

Darius was really enjoying hearing about him. The handsome intern had no idea, of course, but he'd really fired up the Dawsons' sex life. But she already felt the edge dull, and soon small, ambiguous smiles wouldn't cut it anymore.

It was time to up the ante.

"Connor, do you have a second?" she asked as she stepped up to his desk.

He whirled around on his chair to face her, obviously startled.

"Mrs. Dawson! Yes. Of course. What do you need?"

You, she thought, but didn't say it, of course. Instead, she gave him a warm smile that lingered just a touch too long.

"I was wondering if you could see me in my office later. At three o'clock?" she asked.

He was also cute when he was nervous, she noted. His pale skin reddened in such a charming fashion as he nodded. "Of course."

"You're sure? I know it's Friday, and I don't want to keep you..."

"Oh, don't worry about that. I'm here until four anyway," he assured her quickly. Almost like he really wanted to see her in his office.

"That's good to know. At three then," she said with a nod and walked back toward her office. A prickling at the back of her neck told her that he was watching, and she made sure to move as gracefully as possible in her modest heels.

Everybody wants to be desired. Nothing immoral about that.

---

Connor knocked on Mrs. Dawson's door, extremely aware that it was now four minutes past three. It wasn't his fault though - Jack, one of the younger architects, had been showing him the plans for a new county project that the company was going to bid on, and they'd lost track of time.

Hopefully, Mrs. Dawson wasn't mad.

At her "come in," he opened the door and stepped back inside her office. She sat behind her tidy desk, her dark eyes studying him, a small smile on her lips.

"You wanted to see me, Mrs. Dawson?" he asked, closing the door behind him.

"Yes, Connor. Though I thought we said three o'clock?" One elegant eyebrow rose, and he stiffened. It wasn't his fault though, he was-

"I was beginning to think you'd forgotten me," she went on, giving him a look he couldn't interpret.

"Of course not!" he blurted out. The playful note in her voice made him blush, and he suddenly felt awkward and confused. From anyone else, he'd have thought her behaviour flirtatious, but that didn't make sense.

"I'm glad to hear that," she smiled, that warm smile she'd been giving him lately. The one that seemed just for him. He nervously licked his lips and took another step into the room, unsure what to do.

"Please, sit," she said and gestured at the chair in front of her desk. He quickly sat down, folding his hands in his lap to keep them from fidgeting.

Why was he so nervous?

"I've been thinking about you," she said, her voice infinitely warm, her full lips giving him an almost suggestive smile.

"Eh?" He blinked rapidly, trying to make sense of what was happening. He cast a quick glance at her, quickly took in her elegant beauty. He loved the stylish green against her dark skin. It was such-

Stop thinking about her like that! he harshly commanded himself. It wasn't like that!

"Of when you brought me your concerns, of course," she said in the most professional voice he'd ever heard. There was no smile on her lips, there was no spark in her eyes. Had he been imagining it?

"Right!" He pulled himself together with an effort. "Once again, I'm-"

"I'm very impressed. Not everyone has your eye for details," she said, though her voice remained neutral.

"Thank you. Thank you very much, Mrs. Dawson. That means a lot, coming from you," he told her earnestly.

"And I plan to use you," she said and leaned in. Her voice was still professional, but he really couldn't read the expression in her eyes.

What in the name of everything holy did she mean by use him? That was... that was...

He fought to keep his eyes on hers. He could not afford to get distracted now.

"Yes. Use your talents," she went on. "No reason to let them go to waste."

"Oh. Yes. Of course," he said. It made perfect sense... but why was she looking at him like that?

"Here." She bent down and found a folder in one of her desk drawers and put it on the table. In one golden moment while she did so, he was given a direct line of sight into her blouse, deep into her cleavage. The valley between her large, beautiful breasts beckoned his eyes, and he couldn't help himself. Her dark skin was flawless, and the swell of her boobs was indescribable. It only lasted a moment, but his eyes feasted on the image like he'd never seen a woman before.

When the folder hit the desk, the reverberating sound seemed unnaturally loud to the young man, and he forced himself to look at it. His heart was pumping and he dared not look at her eyes. Had she noticed? Christ, how unprofessional could he be? Stare at his boss like they were in a bar, and he was hoping to pick her up!

'27th Street Mall Expansion 2027' the label on the folder proclaimed.

"I want you to go through this. See if you can find any flaws, any errors, any miscalculations," she said, and pushed the folder towards him.

"Eh..."

"Like you did with the Riverside project." That smile was back on her lips, only there was a teasing quality to it now.

She opened the folder, quickly going through the table of contents, and what she envisioned him doing.

"Does that sound like a good use of your... talents?" she asked.

"Yes. Yes! Of course, I'd be happy to," he rushed to assure her. This was his chance to prove his value to her - to her company. This was so much more than making copies or fetching coffee. If he could find a flaw, help her with her project...

A sudden image flashed before his eyes: a smiling, grateful Mrs. Dawson telling him what a great help he'd been, how he had saved her company millions, how she wanted to repay his services...

"Yes!" he exclaimed again, startling Mrs. Dawson. Covering his embarrassment, he quickly rose. "I'll get right on this. Don't worry."

Her eyebrows rose. "I wasn't worried, Connor. But thank you."

He nodded, his cheeks blushing red at her mild rebuke, and he hurried from her office. He would get right on it indeed!

---

Darius was... well, worried was probably the best word. He imagined this was how an addict felt after discovering a new drug - a drug that gave ever greater highs.

He feared his new obsession was unhealthy, and he often thought about quitting, but at the same time he couldn't help himself.

"Any... any news from the office," he asked, going for a casual tone, but his eagerness made him stumble on the words. Naomi noticed with that teasing smile of hers.

"Hmm... maybe..." she said and stretched. It wasn't even that late on a Friday evening, but they were already in bed, she in her nightgown and he in just boxers. Neither of them had said why they were going to bed this early, but they'd both known.

"Yes?" he asked and turned to her. God, she was beautiful! Her dark eyes were sparkling, her full lips smiling at him. And that gown did next to nothing when it came to hiding the swell of her breasts. The dark skin of her cleavage was drawing his eyes like moths to a flame.

"The coffee machine is on its last leg - today it only made a single pot before it had to be cleaned out. I think I'm gonna buy a new one tomorrow. I'll be the office-hero," she grinned.

"Well, that should cheer up the peons," he said with a grimace. She knew very well that wasn't what he was talking about! "Anything... else?"

"Hmm... maybe..." She arched her back, all but thrusting her chest out and he couldn't keep away any longer. His hand cupped her large, firm breast, feeling the nipple harden through the fabric.

"Mhm... oh yes, I had a meeting with the young Connor Blake today," she said, as if just remembering.

He froze, his eyes glued to hers. "You... you did?"

God, he sounded like an overeager teenager!

"I did." She took his hand and firmly pushed it down between her legs. "But I guess you aren't interested in that. After all, he's just a young... handsome... tall... white intern." She gave a sigh when his fingers slipped in under her panties, through her thick bush and found her slit. Her teasing eyes never left his.

"Please, Naomi," he said intensely. Not begging, not exactly, but they both knew she had him wrapped around her little finger. His own fingers acted almost on their own and touched her softness. She wasn't wet yet, but she wasn't dry either.

"Get down there, my heart," she said softly, "and I'll tell you everything."

It was new, this... this controlling aspect of her. Was she seeing his interest with this Connor as a weakness? Or did she read his heart, just like she always did, and knew that this was what he wanted?

Whatever it was, he wasted no time in getting between her strong thighs. And there, with his face buried in her wonderful pussy, she told him about Connor. About the assignment. About the flirting.

He was practically dry-humping the mattress, when she told him she was going to see him regularly. That she was going to use his talents as much as she could. She was drenched and moaning when he couldn't take it anymore.

He needed her. He needed to be inside her. With a last kiss, right on the clit, he crawled up upon her, kissing her other set of lips while guiding himself into her.

"Oh!" Her cry of pleasure and desire when he pushed into her, was like the sweetest music. He was so hard, so ready for her, and she pushed against him, welcoming him inside her.

He couldn't hold back. He fucked her, losing himself in the sensations. Images of a tall, white man danced before his eyes, while her pussy did its darnest to milk him dry.

"Mhm! Ah!" she gasped, "I mhm... I caught him looking..."

"Yeah?" he grunted, his voice thick with desire.

"Ah... yes... when I bent over..."

The thought of his wife bending over for the young man, showing off for an intern...

"I think he liked... mhm!... liked looking at these..." She cupped her breasts through the nightgown, pushing the large globes together, creating that dark, mysterious line, that men loved looking at.

"Of course he did!" Darius growled and fucked her harder still. Again and again he pushed into her, the orgasm quickly growing inside him. A huge explosion was coming. His wonderful wife screeched beneath him, her own orgasm taking her by storm, but he couldn't stop, couldn't slow down.

"He wants you!" he gasped, the words searing in his mind.

Sweat was running down his face, and his breath came in gasps, but the orgasm was all that mattered.

"He wants to kiss you!" He was so close! He couldn't hold back.

"He wants to fuck you!" With a last, herculean act of self-control, he pulled his dick out of her and sprayed her slim stomach and bunched-up nightgown with his seed. Bliss erupted through him, the complete and total lack of control, as everything in his body screamed in joy.

For a moment, he sat on his haunches and looked at the love of his life, drenched as she was in his cum. He took in her beauty, her naughty, pleased grin, the knowing look in her eyes.

Then he went and fetched a towel to dry her off with.

---

Connor licked his lips as he approached her door. It was Monday morning, and he'd spent most of the weekend buried in the folder she'd given him.

And now, he tried very hard to suppress the constant flutter of butterflies in his stomach. Ever since he'd discovered the calculation error yesterday, he'd been over the moon.

It was time to show Mrs. Dawson that he knew his stuff. That she could trust him to do his job.

That his talents were at her full disposal.

He wondered if he would feel the same way if a man had given him this task. Surely, it was not just because she was an attractive woman. Or rather, a very attractive woman.

He didn't know, and he preferred not to dwell on it. Instead, he knocked on her door, waiting for permission to disturb her.

"Come in," he heard from the other side of the door and did just that.

"Connor?" she said surprised, when he entered.

"Yeah. Sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Dawson, but I've found something I thought you should see."

Naomi frowned. She hadn't expected him to actually find anything. Jack and Barbara had worked on this project, and though it was still in a preliminary stage, she had a hard time believing they would make mistakes that an intern could catch.

But she'd said herself that an extra set of eyes was helpful.

"Wait, I only gave you this assignment Friday?" She tilted her head, her sharp, dark eyes holding his. "Have you been doing this over the weekend?"

"Ye-yes. It sounded important..." he answered. She could practically see his nerves spasm under her scrutiny.

"It certainly is, Connor. But it could have waited until today." She smiled to take the sting out of her words - after all, there was no use in scolding an employee for spending his spare time working.

"Of course, Mrs. Dawson." He actually wiped his forehead. Poor guy must be terrified of her. "But look..." He placed his laptop on her desk, turned toward her. "The load calculation for the main support beam over the east entrance didn't include the full mechanical load. The HVAC units alone exceed the allowable limit by more than 10%."

He'd practiced that speech in front of the mirror, and he delivered it flawlessly, if he did say so himself.

She'd stared at the screen, went over his calculations. Dear Lord, he'd been thorough. And it all checked out this time.

"This... is very good work, Connor," she said and looked up at him. He shrugged humbly, but couldn't deny the rush of pleasure, of vindication that her words brought him. He was the man!

She chewed her lip, going over the calculations one more time and reaching the same conclusion. Jack and Barbara had made a mistake.

She couldn't wait to tell Barbara this. And that it'd been an intern that caught the error. The old windbag would never live this down!

"You know what? Since you did this in your time off, I owe you something," she said, looking up at the handsome, young man, ignoring his vague protests about just doing his job. "Lunch." She snapped her fingers. "I'm taking you out to lunch. How does that sound?"

He swallowed noticeably. "That... sounds great, Mrs. Dawson," he nodded.

"Great. I know a place. I'll come pick you up. In the meantime, I think I have to talk to Jack and Barbara..."

"Yes, of course. I'll... I'll get back to work."

"Connor," she said as he reached the door and opened it. "That was some... very... good work."

It was just a compliment from an employer to an employee. So why did it feel like so much more? Why was his heart pounding so hard?

Why was she smiling at him like that?

---

Connor watched his dinner rotating in the microwave, but his mind was far away. The lunch-date had been- no, it hadn't been a date! Stupid word. The lunch had been... unsettling was the best word to describe it.

Oh, it had been nice, no doubt about that. Mrs. Dawson really had known a place, a great, little restaurant that made him the best pasta he'd ever had. And it had been great talking to Mrs. Dawson. She knew so much, had seen so much. When she told him about Venice and Rome, he could practically see the Italian masterpieces of architecture before him.

But when she'd taken his hand and made him promise that he too would visit Europe one day and study the works of the old masters, it had felt... had felt...

Ding! The microwave finished heating his lasagna and brought him out of his reverie. Focusing on the here and now, he served his dinner and sat down at the small kitche table to eat. It tasted just like he'd imagined - boring, but not bad for something that took 60 seconds to fix. Definitely not like the pasta he'd had with Mrs. Dawson.

He tried watching youtube on his phone, but Naomi Dawson kept returning to his thoughts. He could still feel her warm hand in his, her dark skin against his.

That smile meant something. He was sure of it.

And then those other things... the way she had licked dressing off her full lips while closing her eyes. Her sticking her finger in her mouth to clean it when she got some salmon on it.

He hadn't imagined those... and it was damn difficult to see them like anything other than...

"Was she flirting with me?" He asked the question out loud, but of course there was no reply. There was no one but him in the apartment, after all. Just like always.

He shook his head and found a video about St. Peter's Basilica.

God, he'd like to see it someday. Maybe... just like he'd promised Mrs. Dawson.

---

"Yes, I did! Yes! Yes!" Naomi cried as her husband thrust into her again and again.

"I licked my finger clean while he watched!" Goddamn, he was on fire! So hard, so eager. His fingers were digging into her waist, as he slammed against her ass. Doggy-style was good - he got so deep inside her.

"Fuck!" Darius exclaimed behind her.

"He couldn't... couldn't stop staring, oh God!" she gasped.

"He wants you! He wants you!" he grunted. He was breathing hard, winded from the fucking he was giving her.

"He... he was afraid to stand up..." she moaned, "afraid that I would... would see his BIG, WHITE COCK!" She couldn't get enough of the naughty words! It was so illicit, so dirty.

She kept picturing the young man in her mind, kept seeing his awkwardness, his handsome face... his delight at her attention. He really was-

"Fuck!" Darius grunted, "Fuck, I can't... can't..."

"Cum, my heart. Gimme your cum!" She hadn't cum herself, but this was more for Darius anyway. He was the one with the fascination for her young intern. Not her.

And he did. With a grunt he pulled out of her and sprayed her delicious, black ass with his white seed.

"Mhm... you liked that, did you?" she teased, looking over her shoulder at her beloved husband. He was hot, but messy. Sweat was running down his dark body, his thinning hair was matted with it. He was still breathing hard, but without the fire now. Instead, he was staring at her butt, decorated with his semen.

"I... yeah," he admitted, and reached for the towel he'd been smart enough to fetch the moment she mentioned taking Connor for a lunch-date.

"I'm sorry you didn't get there," he mumbled, as he patted her lush, round cheeks down. She needed a shower, if she wasn't going to stick to the bed, even after being dried off, but she couldn't be bothered.

"It's fine, my heart. I'm just glad you enjoyed yourself."

"Yeah." He nodded, tossed the towel in the laundry-basket and laid down next to her. She put her head on his shoulder and sighed contently. She loved his smell. It was so earthy and homely. So safe.

"Do you... do you think it's weird?"

The question came out of left field, and she looked up at him. He looked worried. Worried that she'd judge him, she guessed.

"A little," she shrugged, and he winced. "But so are all sex fantasies. Remember when you dressed up as a firefighter for me?"

"Yeah," he chuckled.

"You thought that was weird too. But you did it, and it was great. This is great too."

He nodded, slowly. "Thank you," he said and kissed the top of her head.

"You're welcome," she murmured and snuggled up to him again.

---

"Mrs. Dawson? Do you have a minute?" Connor asked as he stepped into her office.

He looked at her behind her desk, enjoying the sight of her. That small wrinkle on her forehead as she read something on her computer she didn't approve of. She looked up, her face smooth, her lips in a warm smile, her eyes sparkling, and his blood rushed hot and cold at the same time.

"For you, Connor? Always."

There it was again. That flirty way of hers. It made his heart pound and filled him with... with...

"I just wanted to thank you for lunch yesterday. I really enjoyed it," he said. His voice was strong, and he allowed himself an open look into her eyes. They were truly beautiful; deep and caring but sharp at the same time.

She stared at him for a moment, then glanced away. If he didn't know better, he'd think she was blushing. It was impossible to tell with her dark skin, though.

"Don't worry about it. The pleasure was all mine." Her eyes returned to his, and her full lips curled in a small smile. Was she teasing him? There was nothing improper in her words, of course but her soft inflection made it seem like so much more.

He lingered a little longer than was perhaps proper, but it was difficult to leave this beautiful woman.

"Well, I'll see you around," he said, when he finally had his fill of her easy grace, her refined style. He quietly closed the door behind him, willing his heart to slow down. Nothing had happened after all. Just a quick chat. Just a quick chat...

---

Two weeks later.

Naomi stared at her computer screen without really seeing anything. The columns of numbers and items on it were important, very important, but she couldn't find the focus to care.

Connor had just left. She could still smell his cologne... she could still smell him. She tried to convince herself that it wasn't the lingering smell of her intern that left her fluttered and distracted, but she didn't quite believe it.

It'd been a couple of weeks since her lunch-date with Connor - No, not date. Since her lunch with Connor, and things had shifted since then. Not in a major way, of course, that wasn't her style. Warm smiles and innocent touches, nothing anyone could put a finger on. Only... he'd started giving it back as good as he got. Long glances from those clear, blue eyes, handsome smiles that showed his white teeth. And she was pretty sure she caught him flexing his biceps earlier, when he showed her something on his screen.

A juvenile attempt, really. Something that might leave the floozies at the club all breathless, but she was a married woman. It took a great deal more to impress her than an arm.

Even if it was a rather handsome arm. Strong, with clearly defined muscles that were visible even through his shirt. In many ways he was so unlike her husband.

But that was really beside the point. The point was... had she miscalculated? Was her strategy backfiring? She couldn't deny that she was feeling rather hot under the collar right now, after half an hour with that young hunk.

The good thing was that Darius loved it, loved how the young pup was sniffing at his lady. He got really fired up from the competition and would ask for updates daily. His reaction was precisely why she was playing this new, strange game. A hot and bothered husband that couldn't get her into bed quickly enough really made domestic life so much more interesting.

So far, it was working.

And yet she wasn't entirely comfortable. The problem was... escalation. It was hard to top the lunch, but she could see in her dear husband, that he craved more. He'd started to ask her to wear more... interesting outfits when he knew she was going to see Connor. Nothing scandalous or even out of character, really. A blouse that was a bit more low-cut, a bra with extra push, a slightly shorter or tighter skirt. Maybe open a button in her shirt for the meeting? Again, nothing bad. The other intern, Michelle, wore a crop top with no bra the other day, and everyone had seen her nipples. The firm didn't care, as long as everyone acted responsible and got their work done.

But she was not an intern. She was the boss.

And still, here she sat, in a shirt with a button undone, leaving the top of her cleavage visible. She could just imagine Darius' face when she told him, and the thought made her smile.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling of driving a car at high speed toward a cliff. What would happen when she could no longer escalate?

---

Late at night, Connor lay in bed, facing the usual struggle. It had become almost a ritual of his, trying to resist the temptation - trying and failing. The tissue-paper next to his bed was ready, his cock was more than willing, and the image in his mind was sharp and crisp. That moment when Mrs. Dawson had bent over her desk and he could see down her shirt.

It felt wrong though, masturbating to the thought of his boss. It felt like it besmirched her somehow. Like it tarnished the relationship between them.

If there was a relationship.

No! There was, he was sure of it. The way she lit up, when he came into her office, the smiles that were no longer just warm, but inviting. He spent more and more time in her office, sometimes with very thin excuses, but she never made him leave. She wanted him there. He was sure of it.

And today? Well, that button had not been open, when he met her in the hallway earlier. She'd opened it before he arrived, he was sure of that too. She opened it to show him the wondrous swell of her breasts. Her large, perfect breasts, she had wanted to show them to him.

His hand had snuck into his boxers and was slowly, gently massaging his cock to full hardness. It didn't take much, not when he was thinking about her. He shut his eyes, and his mind immediately started one of his favourite fantasies.

They were in her office. Just talking, her dark eyes shining at him, listening to him. Then she slowly stood and walked around her desk. God, she had a sexy walk, smooth and calm, with her delicious hips swaying.

He was stroking harder now, his cock at full mast, the pleasure and desire quickly spreading from it.

Mrs. Dawson reached him and gracefully knelt before him, leaning back a little, letting him see down her shirt, while she looked up at him. Nothing but love and desire in those beautiful eyes.

She opened his pants, letting his hard cock out - of course it was hard. For her.

His brain skipped in time and now she was blowing him. She was an expert at that, in his fantasy, taking his dick like there was nothing to it. And it felt fantastic! Up and down, up and down she bobbed, clearly loving it. All the way to the bottom, swallowing all of it.

Another time-skip. Now she was leaning over the desk, her perfect ass naked. He held the large, round globes in his hands as he thrust his dick into her. Oh, how she loved it. She cried in pleasure and came. Hard. And again.

His fist was a blur on his cock by now. The raw desire was spreading in his body, and he wasn't far from orgasm. From the first orgasm.

"Yes! Connor, take me!" he could easily hear her scream. Her voice was filled with lust. "I love you! I'm yours!" He loved picturing her saying those forbidden words.

So close now. Too close. Almost desperately, he grabbed some tissues.

His face twisted in orgasmic bliss as he exploded, capturing most of the slimy stuff in the wad of paper in his hand.

"Fuck... fuck," he muttered. The bliss already fading, leaving him with an empty, shame-filled feeling.

Shaking his head in disgust, he got up and threw the soiled tissues into the toilet and quickly wiped any escaped remnants off his stomach and dick.

On his way back to bed, he grabbed his ipad. He knew he should go to sleep, but he was too wired right now.

The first tab open was... pornhub. Of course. He'd known it would be, but he allowed himself to be surprised. The thumbnail was a beautiful, mature and very curvy black woman riding a big, white dick.

Ebony milf was pretty much his only search on these sites nowadays. Feeling even more disgusted with himself, he pressed play and scooted into bed, getting ready to watch.

Just like usual.

---

'Riddler' six letters across. S-P-H-I-N-X. Easy.

'Deal maker', five down. Darius pursed his lips, searching his vocabulary. Diplomat? No. Trader? Six letters, damn.

"Deal maker... five letters..." he muttered.

"Are you even listening to me?"

Naomi's annoyed voice cut through his concentration like a knife. With a grimace he realised he hadn't heard a single word she'd said. He'd assumed she was reading, like she usually did before they went to sleep.

It had been their nightly pattern for years. He with his crossword puzzles, she with her books.

Well, recently they switched it up with a more... interesting night-time ritual.

"Sorry, dear. I was far away," he said and fixed his attention on her.

She sighed. "I said I'm getting worried."

"About what?" he asked, tilting his head.

"What do you think? Connor, of course." Her voice was tight and sharper than usual. How was he supposed to have guessed that?

That name from her lips was enough to make his stomach twist in excitement.

"Did something new happen?" he asked, putting his crossword down. His tone didn't flinch, but he was suddenly hyper-aware of her.

She ran her fingers through her hair with a sigh. "No, nothing... new. It's just... more."

He swallowed, his throat suddenly tight. "More?"

"He came into my office again today. Wanted to show me his progress." She gave him a searching look. "That's the excuse he used, at least."

"He really just wanted to spend some time with you," Darius grinned.

"Yes." She looked away. "I unbuttoned the top button. Like you wanted."

Her words lit the fire in him that was always smoldering these days. "Did you now?" he asked and leaned in. "You naughty girl."

Her eyes turned back to his, easily reading the desire in him. Well, it was hardly hidden. With a sigh, she rolled her eyes and pushed against his chest, pushing him flat on his back. He frowned, but before he could mount an objection, she'd pulled the comforter off him. When she pulled his semi-hard dick out of his boxers, he really figured there was no reason to object.

"Ah..." he sighed when her warm, wonderful lips closed around him. He had not seen that coming! Not that he was complaining.

She worked quickly and efficiently and had him hard in mere seconds. Then she began bobbing up and down, while stroking him. This was clearly not foreplay; she was giving him an honest to God blowjob. Holy Christ!

"Oh God... Naomi, yes... Fuck..." he mumbled. The sound of slurping and sucking filled the room, and his pleasure quickly rose. It was amazing how much better their sex-life had become, since she met that white guy at the company party. And now Connor at her work...

He'd never met the guy, but he could easily picture him. White, tall, handsome, well-built, and very interested in his wife. He imagined the guy staring at his wife's cleavage, imagined those big, white hands on her big, black breasts.

"Fuck..." he gasped. Her tongue was playing with the head, and it felt amazing. She just kept going and going.

What if she did this to him? Just pulled his cock out of his pants and sucked him? Fuck, it would be crazy! Or him taking her across her desk, just flipping up her skirt and groping her sexy ass and claiming her tight pussy.

Images kept dancing in his head. Naomi on her knees in front of the white guy, Naomi getting it doggy-style, Naomi riding him. In her office, in their bed, in a strange apartment.

And through it all, his wife's mouth kept pleasuring, kept bringing him closer and closer to the point of no return.

"Naomi," he finally grunted, "I'm... close..."

She pulled her mouth off him and stroked him. Hard. Fast. So good. She hated the taste and feel of cum, so she never let him cum in her mouth. And that one time he'd forgotten to warn her... let's just say, it hadn't been worth it.

His thoughts returned to her white lover. Or would-be lover. How much would she enjoy Connor taking her? Moaning, crying... cumming on his big, white cock. He'd bet anything the young man had a massive cock, and she'd love it, simply love it.

"Yes! There! Fuck!" he gasped as the orgasm swept him away. His mind blanked in pleasure, as cum sprayed from his dick, landing on his night shirt and her hand.

"Oh my Goooood..." he mumbled and looked at her with loving eyes. "That was amazing."

"Good," she said dryly and with a wry smile. She scooted out of bed and went into the bathroom to wash her hands. He just stripped off his shirt, turned it inside-out, wiped his cock on it and threw it in the laundry-basket.

"Now, can we talk?" she asked when she returned and crawled back into bed.

"Uhm... sure," he mumbled sheepishly. She'd blown him to get him focused? Well, a blowjob's a blowjob, and he'd take one no matter the reason.

"I just feel like it's becoming too much. You understand? With Connor," she asked.

"I do," he nodded. "I understand completely." Sometimes he felt the same way. Often, actually.

But without her young intern, he'd never gotten that blowjob, that was for sure. It was only Thursday, and they'd had sex three times this week. Well, if he counted the blowjob. And he did. "But it's just... well, I really enjoy it..."

She frowned.

"Don't you?" he asked, lifting his eyebrows.

She shrugged, chewing on her lower-lip. She loved it, he knew she did. She loved the attention from the young man, and she loved the sex they were having.

"Look, I don't want you to do anything you are uncomfortable with," he assured her. "But I think we're both getting a kick out of what's happening right now."

"I guess," she sighed. She fooled no one, as he could see her hard nipples through her t-shirt. Time to return the favour.

"How about you just relax," he said and moved down between her legs. She tried to protest, but she also readily spread her smooth, dark thighs, letting him in. And when he kissed her kitty, she stopped talking altogether.

Just like he thought - she didn't want to stop anything either.

---

And so the game continued. Smiles and long looks between her and that young intern. And just like she'd known it would, it escalated. Gradually. Small steps, each one a little bolder than the last. Week by week, the two of them grew closer. What had seemed strange at first, became normal. His visits to her office became a daily occurrence, and they grew longer.

One day, the two of them were in her office together, going over a report. She was about to scroll on his laptop, and his hand moved to the trackpad at the same time as hers. His fingers brushed the back of her hand - light, brief... accidental, surely. He let go immediately, but the look he gave her wasn't accidental at all. The lingering smile, the warm glow in his eyes. It ignited a sudden heat in her chest, and her breath caught, as she looked into his eyes. Neither of them said anything, both acted like nothing had happened, but they both knew.

It happened again a few days later. Less brief and definitely not accidental this time. His warm fingers against hers were a forbidden, but welcome sensation, and in his eyes was a strong longing. It felt like he was testing the waters, seeing how far he could go.

She did not tell him to stop. Even though she should have. Even after he left her office, she could feel where his fingers had touched her, and she blushed.

She told Darius, of course, and he practically mounted her right then and there on the living room floor. He was so excited, so pleased with their little game.

Afterwards, Naomi lay quietly, staring up at the ceiling, listening to her husband's soft snoring and trying to filter her thoughts.

It was going too far. Touching - even just her hand, even for just a moment... or a couple of moments - was too much. She had to hit the breaks.

She didn't want to though. Darius didn't want her to, Connor didn't want her to. But she had to.

The idea of telling Connor made her chest tighten. She could already picture the look on his face - confused, hurt. She cared about that young man... more than she should. He wasn't just good-looking, he was caring and calm. She liked his analytical, thorough mind, that went over detail after detail in the extra work she gave him. She liked the way he lit up when she smiled, the way his eyes stayed glued to her whenever she was near him.

She sighed into the darkness. That was all well and good, but it was also the first signs of... well, interest. She wasn't supposed to be interested in him, it was just supposed to be fun and games!

Damnit.

Okay, maybe she didn't tell him to stop. Maybe she'd just not be alone with him so much. Not give him the opening.

That could work.

Probably. Hopefully.

---

Connor watched eagerly as Mrs. Dawson exited her office. His eyes followed her, as she walked across the open office space, where he, Michelle and the younger architects worked, and into the breakroom. His heart skipped a beat when their eyes met, and she sent him a secret smile when no one else was looking. It warmed him all the way down to his toes.

Knowing he was watching, her walk became slower, more sensual. With measured grace, her hips swayed seductively, as her heels clicked their way across the room. His eyes never left her, not before she disappeared around the corner.

She was into him. She had to be! She wasn't like that with anyone else, not that he had ever observed.

He could still feel her soft hand under his fingers, when they'd touched last week. He'd been waiting to do it again, but the opportunity hadn't presented itself.

But what if he stopped waiting and sought out an opportunity himself? As far as he knew, the breakroom was empty. He could meet her there.

It was crazy, of course. What did he expect, to go in there and touch her hand? Ludicrous.

Unless... he could touch other things than a hand.

Get it together! he commanded himself. He was not gonna feel up Naomi Dawson in the goddamn breakroom. What was he thinking?

Well, whatever it was, he better think fast, seeing as he was already up and moving after his delectable employer.

The breakroom was small, as most ate at their desks or went out. Basically a counter, a fridge and a small table with four chairs. Mrs. Dawson stood at the counter next to the new coffee machine, waiting patiently for it to brew a new pot.

She was so beautiful! Some might say, that the black skirt was too tight for office-wear, the way it stretched across her bubbly butt, but to Connor it was just right.

Naomi heard the door and looked over her shoulder, an automatic smile on her lips. She froze, when she saw who it was. Connor. She was alone with Connor again.

Suddenly, her heart was pounding away, and the air felt electric. Their eyes met and her cheeks warmed.

This was ridiculous! It was just a random meeting in the breakroom. Nothing out of the ordinary. She needed to calm down, get her coffee and get back to work.

Still, she probably shouldn't have put on a show for him. Wiggling her hips as soon as he looked at her was not the best way to slow the game down.

From his expression, he'd found it a bit too interesting. She'd known it was a mistake, but when she'd caught his eyes, her insides had turned to jelly, and she just wanted to... wanted to...

"Hey Connor," she said offhandedly, returning her focus to the coffee machine. Almost done now. Then she'd be out of here.

"Hello Mrs. Dawson," he answered, but where her tone had been neutral, his was anything but. Warm, rich and inviting, it sent a shiver down her spine.

She kept her attention on the coffee. Nothing out of the ordinary going on here. Just making coffee...

She felt more than heard, how he stepped closer. And then even closer, into her personal space, right behind her. She fought to breathe normally, as he reached over her shoulder, opening a cupboard and finding a mug. He was too close! It was difficult to think with him just behind her, his aftershave in her nose.

Connor couldn't believe himself. What was he doing? Was he trying to get fired? Christ, she was his boss, not some random chick!

And yet, he couldn't stop himself. The few brief touches of her hand had not been enough. He needed more, and he was sure she did too. That's what her looks, her smiles, her movements told him - screamed at him.

His mouth was dry as a desert, but he still leant in. "You're looking beautiful today," he said quietly, his breath caressing her ear. He saw her stiffen, heard her breath catch and steeled himself for the coming explosion. He deserved it, too - he was way out of line, he knew that.

She took a deep breath.

Here it comes! he thought and almost took a step back. Had he ruined everything? Nothing short of seppuku could set this right.

"Thank you." Her voice was faint, and for a moment he almost thought he'd imagined it. But no. He had definitely heard it.

He wasn't certain what emboldened him more; her voice or her words, but he definitely understood that she wasn't mad. That she even welcomed his attention.

His mouth spoke before he'd even thought, before he'd decided what to do. "But then again, you always look beautiful."

And he placed his hand on her hip.

Not groping her ass or anything, he wasn't crass. Just touching her, resting his hand, as innocently as a man can touch a woman's hip.

Naomi froze. Again. And again, she had no idea what to do. Surely, this was too much. Surely! Adrenaline was flooding her system, her heart-rate was through the roof, but her mind was blank. All she could think about, was how Darius would react. He hadn't said anything, but it'd been clear to her, that he'd been waiting for something new to happen. And now this.

How long stood they frozen like this? And why wasn't she just brushing him off? Even if it wasn't highly inappropriate for him to touch her like this, this was a public place! Anyone could enter, and then all hell would break loose.

But she didn't move. She just remained, felt his hand on her, trying to get herself back under control.

"I better get back to work," he finally muttered and left. No other comment, just that, and he was gone.

She stayed in the breakroom for a good long while after he'd left, trying to get her heart under control.

Her 'no alone-time' de-escalation hadn't worked out too well, after all.

---

Darius was pacing. From one end of the house and back again. Every so often he stopped and checked his phone.

Naomi: Something's happened. Brace yourself for tonight.

His mind was running amok with possibilities. Maybe she and Connor had rented a motelroom and done the deed - images of his beautiful, black wife getting hammered by a tall, white man entered his mind. His throat tightened and his dick hardened at the thought. Would sex with him be better than with Darius himself? He was her husband, he knew her and her body better than anyone. He knew how to give her pleasure, how to make her cum. There was no way a random, tall man could be better. No way.

"Stop it," he muttered to himself. Naomi hadn't slept with her intern. She wasn't like that. She would never.

Maybe they'd kissed. There'd been very little news lately. She'd said she was taking it slow. But maybe she hadn't been able to resist anymore. Maybe this tall, white man had been too tempting for her.

He checked his phone again. No news. He'd sent her four messages, asking for details, but she'd ignored them. Ignored him. Almost like she was busy... with someone else.

No. She was just teasing him. That's all it was.

Her car pulled into the driveway, and Darius moved to the hallway, eagerly waiting for her. The door finally opened, and in stepped his wife.

"Ah, my heart," she smiled, when she saw him. He kissed her with a quick 'hello' and helped her with her coat. The sight of her almost stole the breath from his lungs. The dark-green blazer, the tight black skirt, even decent heels. She looked damn good.

He'd seen it all when he left, of course, but it all seemed so real right now. It was a more... sexy look than she usually went for, and he knew very well why she wore it.

For him. The other man. Connor.

Not that he was jealous. Not per se. He himself had pressed for her to dress more provocative for the young man. But even so...

"Had a good day?" Naomi asked, like nothing out of the ordinary was going on. She might even have fooled anyone else, but not him. He caught the spark in her eyes, the tiny smile.

"Well, it was alright. I had lunch with David and Alice. And then my wife told me to brace myself for tonight." As he said the last, he stared intensely into her eyes, willing her to tell him everything.

"Oh yeah, I did, didn't I?" She flashed her sphinx-smile, and he followed her into the living room, still none the wiser, just like he knew his wife wanted it. She was playing him like an instrument, playing with his arousal, his fascination.

She hadn't had sex. He was sure of that at least. She wouldn't be so calm, if she'd broken any major taboo.

The realisation brought a curious mix of relief and disappointment to the confused man. Relief that she was still his. Disappointment... for the exact same reason.

"Tell me, please," he asked, as civil as his frustration allowed him.

"What's for dinner?" she asked, instead of answering.

She was such a tease! He gritted his teeth, though he couldn't stop a smile. It was impressive, how she managed to drive him to the edge of his rope, while still making him love her more than ever.

"I'm going to order Chinese," he answered briefly, gripping the back of the couch in embarrassment. She raised her eye-brows at that, and he looked away. Since he was off early today, their unspoken agreement was that he cooked. Except that he'd not been in a headspace to do anything productive, not since she sent him that message.

Really, if one stopped to think about it, it was her fault.

"Chinese sounds good," she said, sending him a shrewd look. She probably knew precisely why he hadn't bothered with pots and pans tonight.

"Please, Naomi. Why did I need to brace myself?" he asked, shifting the topic back on track. Who cared about dinner?

She nodded, that playful smile back on her full lips.

"Okay, then." She grabbed his hand and turned around, positioning herself with her back to him.

Darius frowned. What was she doing?

"Why don't I show you just where Connor touched me?" she wondered.

Darius took a sharp breath. The young man had touched her? Where? Her breasts!? God, he'd love to see his big, white hands on Naomi's wonderfully large breasts. That would be-

"Right... here," she breathed and led his hand down to her hip.

He had-? She had let him-?

Darius was struggling to breathe, struggling to piece out just what he thought about this revelation. One thing was imagining scenarios - getting told what actually had happened, was quite another.

"Actually," she said thoughtfully, "he was a bit closer. Like this..." She took half a step back, still with his hand on her hip. "And then, he said I look beautiful. Something you," she shot a pointed look over her shoulder, "haven't done today."

"You look absolutely stunning, ravishing, shining like the moon on a clear night," he rambled compliments, while his mind was trying to catch up. The intern had called his wife beautiful? And grabbed her... well her thigh. Almost her ass. How had that happened? What were they doing in that office?

He realised that he was hard, though he wasn't surprised.

"That's better," Naomi nodded, satisfied with his devotion. "You're not looking too bad yourself. Do you want to hear what happened?"

"Yes... yes!"

"Well, I was in the breakroom. Okay, I had seen him, when I went there and kinda, you know..." she swayed her hips in imitation of how she'd walked when Connor had watched her, "put on a little show for him."

"Did you?" her husband croaked, He could just picture it, her delightful butt in that tight skirt and with those heels. She grinned back up at him.

"I did. And well, he must have taken that as an invitation, 'cause he followed me. And there I was, all alone, brewing coffee, since apparently my intern was too busy ogling his boss to do it." Teasing and light annoyance mixed in her voice.

"Uh-huh."

"So, he comes into the breakroom, and I'm all alone with him. And suddenly, he's right behind me. So close. It was..." her voice trailed off, as she tried to explain just what it was. She shook her head and went on with the story.

"Suddenly he tells me I look beautiful... and I kinda just... said thank you," she admitted sheepishly.

"You thanked him?" Darius repeated. That struck him as odd - though he wasn't sure why.

"Well, he paid me a compliment. What was I supposed to do?" she defended herself, once again looking over her shoulder, this time with a frown.

"Of course," Darius shrugged, not at all willing to fight - he was far too interested in what else had happened.

"Then... he put his hand right... there." She patted his hand on her hip. "Just... just holding me. For a second."

"Christ..." Darius mumbled, thinking of the implication. The young man was certainly growing bold! To grope his boss like that. It was quite an escalation from touching her hand. He noticed his free hand was shaking.

"What... what did you think? When... when he did that?" Darius wondered, trying to hide his insane arousal. Though he took a step closer to his wife and ground his hard dick against her soft ass, while his other hand slid around her. So maybe he wasn't all that subtle.

"I... well, he caught me by surprise, I must admit. So first I didn't really think, I just... I don't know, I felt him. And then he was gone, and..."

"And?" Unlike Connor, Darius was no longer just holding her. Both his hands were groping her, her hips, ass, stomach, everything in easy reach.

"It was... quite bold," she said. "Mhm, that feels good, my heart."

"You liked it?" Darius demanded. He was sure she did though. "When Connor touched you. You liked that?"

The silence stretched a while. Then: "Yes..." She admitted it!

"You're so sexy, so hot," he muttered into her hair, while fumbling with her skirt. He pulled it up until her luscious tush came into view, just covered by a pair of thin, black panties. Encircling his delicious wife in his arms, grinding his hard cock against her, his fingers slid inside the waistband of her panties, through her curly pubes and into her sacred cavern.

She eagerly spread her legs for him, and he wasn't at all surprise to find her wet and ready.

His finger slid into her, meeting little to no resistance. Just further proof that she was as much into this as he was. The thought filled him with both excitement and trepidation - but right now the arousal was stronger.

His other hand slid up, cupping her large breast through her decent and professional blazer.

She gasped as he played with her body, letting out a loud moan whenever he flicked her clit. His lips pressed against the back of her neck, sucking on her skin.

"Was I... bad?" she sighed, lost in the feeling of her husband's machinations.

"So bad," he mumbled, licking her salty skin, "so good."

A small, whiny sound escaped her throat at that.

Deep down, he knew they needed to discuss this new development - that it might be a problem down the road. But right now, the knowledge that another white man had touched his wife overruled anything else. It was insanely erotic, and he had to act on it.

Gradually, her moans grew louder, more intense, more pleased. The orgasm wasn't too far away, but he didn't want her to cum like this.

He wanted inside her. He needed to make love to his wife.

Or to fuck her at any rate.

"The couch," he mumbled, and they moved onto it, him still holding on to her. She knelt on it, her upper body on the backrest, her ass pointed at him. No more foreplay. He simply pulled her panties off, freed his dick and slowly slid into her.

"Oooh..." she sighed. "I take it you're not... ah... mad?"

"Mad?" The question confused Darius for half a second, as he fed more of his black dick to his beloved wife. "Mad? That the young, white buck groped my wife?" Fuck, she felt amazing. He held onto her hips, just where she'd shown him that Connor had touched her. It was such a kick, such a strong, real proof of the intern's intentions.

Connor wanted his wife.

"Yesss..." Naomi moaned. "He wants... he wants your wife!"

She said what he was thinking, and her words sent him into overdrive. He grunted and thrust into her snug pussy again and again. There was no gentleness, no finesse, just raw lust.

"And you want him!" Darius' voice had grown dark and full of need.

"Honey..." she tried to object with a gasping sound.

"Admit it," he said.

The only response was a series of aroused moans and gasps. That wasn't good enough for Darius, wasn't what he needed to hear right now.

"Admit it!" he demanded again. Maybe it was his determined voice, maybe it was just time, but his words caused an explosion in his wife.

"Yes! Yesss! I want him! So bad! Fuck, it's gooooood!" she cried and thrashed around underneath him. Her orgasm triggered his own, and it was in the nick of time that Darius managed to pull out. Only a few strokes later, and cum exploded from him, showering the back of her crumbled-up skirt and blazer with his messy load.

"Oh my God..." Naomi sighed, as he tumbled down onto the couch next to her.

The world slowly came back into focus for the well-fucked woman, and she turned her head to look at her spent husband. Still dressed, with his wet dick hanging from his open pants, he looked pleased and astonished.

With a grin, she shed her skirt and blazer, not wanting to smear his sticky stuff on her immaculate couch. They ended in a heap on the floor, before she scooted up to her husband.

"That was intense," she mumbled and put her head on his shoulder.

He looked down at his beautiful, dishevelled wife. "You can say that..."

---

Michelle: Omg, did you see what Dawson was wearing today?

Connor frowned at the text message. He had seen, yes. In fact, he'd very much enjoyed the sight of her. And the feel even more so.

Connor: What do you mean?

Michelle: Am I the only one who thinks she's kinda pushing it? The woman is past 40...

That only deepened his frown. She was attacking the gorgeous woman for daring to dress up? A bit rich coming from Michelle, who he'd seen in a miniskirt more than once. His blonde co-intern was probably just jealous. When Naomi Dawson dressed like that, who was gonna pay attention to Michelle, no matter what she wore?

Connor: She can dress however she wants.

His mouth was working wordlessly. He knew he shouldn't, but the need to defend his beautiful boss was too strong.

Connor: She looked good. What does age matter?

There. That wasn't too much. It certainly didn't betray that he'd spent the time since he got home remembering just how good she looked. Or how she'd thanked him for his compliment.

Or how he'd touched her. Touched the most beautiful woman in the office. He still couldn't really believe he'd done that. Or that she'd let him!

Michelle: Whatever. I'm just saying maybe she should dress her age?

Michelle: Speaking of, we should probably get her a flower or something for her birthday. Wanna go in on one?

Wait, her birthday was coming up?

Connor: Yeah, sure. When is it?

Michelle: Thursday two weeks. I'm thinking like 10 bucks from each?

Connor: Sounds good. I'll send it to you.

Her birthday. An elevated feeling rose in his chest - her birthday was the perfect time to show what he thought of her... without it being weird.

And he knew the perfect gift for a beautiful woman like Naomi Dawson...

---

42 years. But age is just a number, right? Naomi thought wryly as she studied the table overflowing with presents from coworkers. Small swan statuettes from Elise and Barbara, cards and chocolates from suppliers and rivals, candlesticks from the rank and file architects, a cheap bouquet of flowers from the two interns. She'd worried Connor would do something rash, but was relieved he hadn't gone overboard. She was well aware of his growing infatuation with her, and it wouldn't do to broadcast it to the office.

"Not a bad haul," she mumbled, awfully melancholically. She didn't know why - age had never meant anything to her.

She picked up the card that came with the flowers. It had a pretty picture of a birthday cake with lots of candles.

Happy 42nd birthday!

Connor and Michelle

A standard greeting from a pair of interns, sucking up to the boss. Perfect.

A knock on her door took her out of her quiet reverie.

Connor, her handsome intern, always welcome, always inconvenient, stuck his head in.

"Do you have a moment, Mrs. Dawson?" he asked.

She took a deep breath and straightened her skirt, as she turned to him. Her breath caught for a second at that irresistible smile, but she hid it well.

"Of course, Connor. Come on in." Butterflies stirred in her stomach when he closed the door behind him. He hadn't tried anything untoward for the past weeks - not since that afternoon in the breakroom, when he touched her hip and told her she looked beautiful.

Lingering glances, yes.

That striking smile that more and more managed to throw her off balance, yes.

And the habit he'd developed of letting his fingers brush hers whenever she scrolled on his laptop, also yes.

But nothing new. No escalation.

Which, she reminded herself time and again, was a good thing. She wanted to slow it down, and she wanted to be in control of the... the situation. If someone was going to escalate, it was going to be her.

Still, she couldn't deny a feeling of excitement in her chest at the sight of him. And he was carrying a parcel, a flat rectangular box wrapped in colourful paper.

"I wanted to give you this," he said, his voice soft. He looked away, as he handed it to her. "It's just... a little thing I... made."

"You shouldn't have," she said in a breathy voice as she accepted it. With no hesitation, she tore the wrapping with a satisfying riiitch-sound. As she'd already guessed, it was a frame. She turned it over-

And almost dropped it. Oh my God, it was her. A portrait of her in what looked like charcoal, and it was good. Damn good! Not an artful, uptight portrait - this was office-Naomi, everyday-Naomi.

The lines were soft but confident, tracing the gentle slope of her nose, the curve of her cheeks, giving her a slight tension in her jaw. Her hair was tied in a bun at the back of her head, with a single strand curling down the side of her face.

She found that strand that hung down her face right now and absently tucked it behind her ear, while staring at herself.

Her eyes were captured incredibly well, warm and focused, like she was working intensely. Her lips were set in a determined line... though there was a trace of a hidden smile in the corner of her mouth.

This was... her. So real.

She finally looked up at him, her eyes huge and uncomprehending.

"Connor, I..." she stopped and licked her lips. "I don't know what to say. Did you... make this?"

The young man blushed and shrugged like it was no big deal. "Yes. I had some time and wanted to give you something." He shrugged again, helpless this time.

She nodded, her eyes inevitably returning to her portrait.

This was... certainly an escalation. It must have taken hours! Hours and hours, slaving away, turning a blank piece of paper into her likeness. Her stomach was aflutter, as she tried to sort through all the emotions that welled up into her at this unexpected gift.

"I didn't know you could draw," she said, mostly to say something.

"Oh, you know," he muttered humbly. Then the suspense evidently became too much, since he had to ask: "Do you like it?"

"It's beautiful. You know it is." She took a deep breath. "It's also completely inappropriate. I'm your boss, remember?"

His eyes widened, and he swallowed nervously, as she looked down at the image again.

"I love it," she admitted, tracing a finger along the proud chin he'd managed to capture perfectly.

His relieved grin quickly became a pleased, proud smile. He moved closer, looking at the portrait with her.

"It'd been a while. But it was easy with such a beautiful muse," he said.

That was a little thick, even for Naomi. She shot him a pointed look, and he had the grace to grimace in embarrassment.

"Thank you, Connor," she said quietly, almost formally. "I guess I'd better put it away. It probably wouldn't do to let anyone else see it. They might... assume things."

He nodded, still basking in her obvious pleasure of his present.

She found a tote bag and carefully put the portrait into it. Then she straightened and gave her young suitor a long look. Taking a deep breath, she stepped closer to him.

His masculine smell made something tighten in her chest, but she ignored it for now.

"Thank you very much. It's beautiful." Her lips pressed against his cheek in a slow kiss. He noticeably stiffened under her attention and when she stepped back, his eyes burned fiercely as they stared at her. His cheeks were red - thankfully not from her lipstick.

"But you better get back to work now," she dismissed him. He licked his lips nervously, obviously not wanting his visit to end, but he reluctantly nodded. As he left, he shot her a last, long glance. Alone in the office, she walked around her desk and sunk into her chair with a sigh. This warmth in her chest was definitely an unwelcome distraction. Maybe this game was getting out of hand?

But still she couldn't keep a smile off of her lips as she thought of the portrait.

Had she ever gotten such a personal gift before?

---

"Congratulations, honey!" Darius exclaimed when Naomi walked through the door, carrying her bag and tote bag full of gifts and cards from the office. He'd taken off work early to make sure everything was ready. She deserved a good birthday after... well, everything. After being such a wonderful, understanding wife.

"Thank you, my heart," she smiled. She stepped out of her shoes, and Darius gave her a tight hug, pressing her soft body against his. Mhm, she smelled of lilacs and woman.

"I got you something," he said and escorted her into the living room. He didn't know why he was so eager to give it to her - admittedly, it had been expensive and he was sure she'd love it, but even so.

He snatched the large parcel from the coffee table and handed it to her with a flourish and another "congratulations."

She smiled at his boyish manners, as she accepted the gift. It wasn't just big, it was also heavy.

"What could it be?" she smiled, set it back down on the coffee table and quickly tore the wrapping paper. She never could resist presents.

"You'll see," Darius answered, as a gray box appeared. A large, glowing bulb was on its side. It was... it was...

A lamp.

A beautiful lamp from the picture on the side, most likely outrageously expensive.

But a lamp.

"Do you like it?" he asked, just like her other suitor had. Only this time she had to fake a smile and force the words out.

"Of course I like it!"

"I figure it could go in your office," he explained, pointing to the door to her home office. His voice grew hesitant. She said the words, but she didn't look happy.

"Yeah. Yeah! I've needed a new lamp in there for ages," she agreed. Again, the words and her body language didn't match.

Darius frowned while she tore the rest of the wrapping off, making the correct cooing sounds. But something was definitely off.

"Is something wrong, my love?" he wondered.

"Of course not, my heart," she assured him and opened the box, looking at the lamp.

He stood for a moment, looking at her. Something was definitely off.

"Naomi..."

"Look, Darius... it's nothing."

Naomi paused. It wasn't nothing. And she had to show him the portrait. He had the right to know everything that happened between her and Connor.

Her husband looked at her expectantly, and she sighed. She picked up the tote bag, rummaged through it and carefully withdrew the frame.

"Connor... gave me this. As a birthday present," she said and handed it to him. She stared at him while he stared at the portrait. She winced as his jaws worked wordlessly at the sight of the present.

"So..." he said slowly, his voice resigned, "I spend more than a thousand dollars on a gift, just to be outdone by a pup with a pencil."

"Darius, it-"

"It's fine, Naomi. I'm not mad." He gave the portrait another long glance. "I wouldn't have been happy with a lamp either, if someone had given me this."

"I am happy. It's a really beautiful-" she tried, but he shook his head at her.

"It really is fine, honey." He scratched his neck with an embarrassed smile. "I just didn't know I had such fierce competition. I gotta up my game."

"No." She took the frame from him and put it on the coffee table. "There's no competition. I love you." She took his hands. "You're my husband."

He smiled at her. Her words felt good, but his insides were in tumult. The icy fear that the portrait had awakened in his gut battled with the burning desire in his chest.

Connor was really interested in his wife. Really, really interested. And it gave him such a rush to think of her accepting the gift from him.

"What... what did you say to him?" he asked, trying for casual. Trying and failing.

"I..." She bit her lip, but knew she had to be honest, even if it hurt him. "I told him it was inappropriate. Then I thanked him. Said I loved it. And... and gave him a kiss on the cheek."

The fire in his chest won out as he imagined his beautiful wife kissing his rival. Or whatever he was. In his mind the words 'on the cheek' went missing and he pictured them kissing. The image of her flinging her arms around the young, white man and pressing her lips against his was a powerful one.

Well, he'd imagined that often enough. But now it was suddenly real.

Why had she kissed him? To thank him? Was she falling for him? Was he just younger, hotter and more artistic?

Darius' throat tightened, his heart hammered, and he desperately thought of something to say.

Of course she wasn't falling in love with a 22-year-old guy. That was ridiculous.

"Was... was that not okay?" Naomi asked, her voice clearly nervous.

She was so beautiful as she stood there with a worried frown. Her head slightly tilted, her lips parted, her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes radiating concern.

He was so lucky to have her.

"It... was perfect," he managed to croak. He might be under assault from hundreds of different emotions, but he didn't want her to worry she'd done anything wrong. "You... you should probably get dressed. Our reservation is in an hour," he said, needing the distraction, needing to be alone for a second.

He was sporting a powerful erection, but for some reason he didn't want to have sex right now. He just wanted to enjoy tonight with his wife.

That certainly seemed out of character for him. Not interested in sex? What was going on with him?

"Yeah. Sure." Naomi seemed to read his innermost thoughts, and she stepped up to him. "Thanks for the lamp. It's beautiful." And she kissed him, right on the lips. Long and sweet, her wonderful smell in his nose. He wrapped his arms around her, though making sure not to poke her with his dick - it was too embarrassing right now.

"I love you," she whispered and left him alone. His heart, his head and his dick all struggled with one another, trying to figure out what to think.

---

Half an hour later, Naomi exited the bedroom and found her husband waiting.

"Wow!" he exclaimed at the sight of her.

"You like it?" she grinned. She was indeed wow-worthy. She wore a deep, navy-blue cocktail dress, cut to follow her curves without clinging. One shoulder was bare, the other covered in a modern, asymmetrical design that was quite bold. Her cleavage was discreet enough to be respectable, but deep enough to draw Darius' eyes immediately. The colour of the dress made her smooth skin glow, warm and rich.

The golden earrings, the golden bracelet and the pearl necklace that rested between her impressive boobs enhanced her quiet beauty, as did her polished make-up. Soft eye-liner, a hint of shimmer on her eyelids and dark-red lipstick.

Her black heels completed the outfit, and the clacking sound against the hard floor made him take notice.

"You look amazing!" Darius told her earnestly. He wasn't looking too shabby himself in his dark-burgundy shirt and black slacks, but she was a vision. Ever since they'd started this whole game with Connor, he'd been seeing her anew. And he really liked what he was seeing.

"What, in this old thing?" she giggled and pivoted, showing how the dress clung to her delicious butt. She even wiggled it for his benefit, and he groaned theatrically.

He got up and took her hands in his. Staring into her eyes, he told her what he'd been thinking about since she left him alone.

"I love you so much, Naomi. I want this night to be perfect for you, for us." God, it came out so bombastic. It hadn't sounded like that in his head. "So I think... how about we forget about Connor and... and all that. Until tomorrow."

She swallowed and nodded. "Of course, my heart. I love you too." She hesitated, then added, "you know... if you want to stop the... the thing with Connor, all you have to do is say so." Her dark eyes dug into his. "I'm only doing it for you."

"Thank you."

Then they kissed, a good, long kiss that they both needed. Afterwards they went out to dinner, to just be a married couple among other couples.

And that night, when they made love, no one else was invited into the bedroom. Just a man and a wife who loved each other.

---

Darius wasn't stupid. He saw where things were heading. Granted, he had not foreseen the young pup's bold present - and he had to admit it had thrown him. To be surpassed by a guy in his twenties, and not just by a little. That portrait had knocked his stupid lamp out of the damn park.

But aside from that, the writing was kinda on the wall. Naomi might still think they were going to stop at her and Connor holding hands or something, but not Darius, not more. He'd spent quite a bit of time on the internet recently, getting help to understand his own, conflicting emotions.

The more he read, the more he thought, the more he felt, and his own desires and goals became clear.

He wanted Naomi to go all the way with her young, white intern. He wanted her to give up her fidelity to him, to make love to him. Just thinking about it made him skittish and nervous, but it was true. He knew it was wrong. He knew it wasn't the kind of things a man - and certainly not a black man! - should be into. So much of the material out on the internet was of white women with black men, not the other way around.

But the burning need in his chest would not be denied. It outweighed almost everything else. He didn't care if his brother would laugh, he didn't care if his childhood friends would look at him in disgust, he didn't care if his father would roll in his grave. He wanted it. He needed it. Just once, just to try it, see if it really was for him.

That was hardly a crime.

Not that last night hadn't been great. Dinner with his wife, just being with her, then making love to her. It had been great. Wonderful. A little tame, but emotionally satisfying. And afterward, he had made up his mind. He wanted this new, scary relationship. He wanted Naomi to... to cuck him, as they said online.

But even so - he still had to move slowly, carefully. First of all, Naomi would be spooked if he suggested it. She had to get there herself. In the end, he had to trust the young pup knew what he was doing. He had to let her be seduced and be supportive of the development.

Not that that would be a chore. Everything that had led up to this point had been exciting, and he was sure it would only get wilder. Even this rivalry with Connor over her birthday-present made him feel alive.

What had he been thinking? A lamp! To a lively, beautiful woman like his wife? She deserved so much more.

Which was why he was spending a prolonged lunch-break in this jewelry store. He needed the right present, something beautiful and sparkling... like his wife.

His eyes lit up at the of a ruby-studded gold heart necklace. Perfect!