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Looking.
He’s finally passed me and I can breathe normally again. Natalie, god bless her soul, continues her blathering until we make it to the staff break room, and then shuts the door behind us.
“Tell me all. Now,” she demands. “If I have to wait one more minute to hear what happened, I just might explode.”
As she starts the coffee pot with our special blend of shade-grown, organic coffee that we hide in the back of the freezer, away from the editorial department’s prying eyes, I wander around the break room, picking up old copies of Blush and putting them back down again without seeing any of it.
“Sex,” I finally blurt out. “Lots and lots and lots and oh god amazing sex. Never, in the history of sex, has anyone had better sex than the sex I had last night.”
Natalie shoves my favorite mug into my hand, filled with dark, rich coffee, and demands, “More. Tell me more. Tell me all. Speak, oh sex goddess of Manhattan. I need something to imagine while fucking myself with my dildo tonight.” At my look, she shrugs. “What? You know I do it. You know you do it. It’s human nature, girlfriend.”
True dat.
So I tell her all the gory deets. I mean, all of them. No, I don’t hold back even on that part. What are best friends for, if not to brag about the absolute best night of sex known to humanity? As I’m telling her, I begin squirming with excitement, my panties growing wetter by the moment. God, I really want to replay that scene in the hallway with Apollo, except this time, I tackle him to the ground and fuck him right there.
Okay, maybe drag him into a broom closet and fuck him there. I don’t want all the girls to know how big his dick is or I’ll have to start using the brooms to beat them all off.
His dick is mine. And his tongue. And his pecs. And his glorious thighs.
But most especially his dick.
Finally, I can’t think of another amazeballs detail to add, and my coffee has grown cold and I don’t even care because I’m high on sex and fucking and Apollo’s magic 12-inch cock and so I dump it down the drain and we head back to our cubicles. Natalie’s telling me in great detail about everything that she was going to have to do with a cucumber that night when we realize that the open work area is quiet.
Way, way, way quiet.
I look up and everyone is staring, although thank god not at me.
John and Vicky are walking out of the conference—yes, the conference room—and there’s tears streaming down their faces as they go.
It hits me like a ton of bricks and all happiness is gone. My bubble has popped, again, and the soapy residue covering me is starting to get fucking old.
As they head to their desks to pack up their knickknacks and shit, Apollo walks out of the conference room, along with some other suits, and they head down the hall and he never looks over at me. He never looks at me and he’s walking away and my heart is breaking into a million little pieces.
