Woulda, Coulda, Shoulda            © 2005 by Andrew Wiggin

 

1.      Woulda

 

        I stroll through the office, my mind intent on one thing.  I glance to and fro, trying to catch a glimpse of her.  And then I see her!

        She’s the most beautiful creature alive.  She is sitting primly at her desk, her pure white complexion made all the more alluring by her deep blue eyes, her straight, soft, black hair. 

She is my darling, my sweetie, my heart’s delight.  As I approach her desk the movement of my body attracts her attention and her head slowly lifts, her perfect round eyes coming to rest on mine.  We hold each other’s gaze for a second, secretly acknowledging our connection, our inner passion.  And then we quickly turn away.

No one must know!  The office is a hotbed of gossip.  If anyone suspects for a moment that she and I wish to be together, that between us we share a secret unending white-hot passion, the news would instantly get back to the worst possible place:  her husband. 

Yes, she’s married.  Married, and with no chance of divorce.  There are children involved. There are religious scruples.  There’s a mother-humper of a prenup.  So here is what we are left with:  stolen glances, stolen moments, broken hearts.

It’s an old story.  But our time together, brief as it is, is too precious to give up. 

I enter my office and close the door.  I have to maintain some degree of decorum.  I wait ten minutes.  Then I call her.  She answers after the first ring.

 

“Hello, Moira Johnson speaking.”

 

Her voice sounds so official and yet so sensual.

 

“Sweetheart, it’s me.  Are you alone?”

 

She never breaks stride.  “No, sir, I’m not.  But I could have it done within the hour, if that will suit you, sir.”

 

“Oh, you want me to call you back in an hour?”

 

“Yes, sir, that would be fine.  Goodbye, sir.”

 

“Goodbye, my darling.”

 

The sound of her voice will sustain me for the rest of the hour.  But I need to be with her.  My love is a fire that brightly burns and will last for an eon.  The pain of her absence is almost too much for me to bear. 

By lunch time we have talked on the phone.  We have arranged an assignation; our first.  Perhaps our only?  She is as eager as I to consummate our incredible passion for each other.  Moira’s husband, as usual, must work late.  He says he is meeting with an important customer.  I don’t believe him. 

He’s using her.  He is taking advantage of her sweet disposition and forgiving nature to cheat her, to betray her. 

But you can’t tell that to Moira.  She is the trusting sort.  She cannot think badly of anyone.  

And now this sweet thing, this paragon of innocence and virtue, finds herself in the middle of a mad passionate relationship that can only be leading in one direction.

We’ve fought it.  Regardless of what her husband is doing, Moira has wanted to remain true to her vows.  I’ve honored her feelings, knowing that part of her perfection is based upon the purity of her heart. 

But I must have her.  I will never pressure her into doing something she doesn’t want, but this she wants. 

We meet at the cocktail lounge of a mid-town Hilton.  She looks sweet and sensual in her conservative yet tasteful business suit.  We huddle in a corner booth, sharing secrets, finally exposing our innermost thoughts to the keeper of each other’s heart. 

Before long we are holding hands.  The electricity of the touch is almost enough to set me off or melt me down.  I want more, but don’t want to spoil the moment.  I must not, I cannot be the one to move the relationship to the next level.  The decision must be hers.  I can see in her eyes that she is struggling with her choices.

 

“Henry, darling, now that we are finally together, I find myself losing control.  You look so good to me, the touch of your hand feels so good.  Henry, I want to touch you all over your body.  I can’t help it.  I’ve been so lonely.”

 

I let her have a way out.  “Moira, sweetheart, I don’t expect any more from you than you’ve already given me.  How could I?  I’ve been blessed just to be in your presence.”

 

“I know Henry,  I’m so grateful that you’ve allowed me to go at my own pace.  A lesser man would have given up long ago.  But I love you so much!  I needed to be sure.  But I can stay away from you no longer.’

 

“Moira, if that is what you want, then that is what I want.  But know this:  I will never make demands on you.  I need you like I need air, but I would rather suffocate without you than make you think the less of me.”

 

Her smile is accompanied by a single tear that rolls down her lovely cheek.  She takes hold of my hand and says, “Come, Henry, let’s get a room.  I need to be near you.”

 

I stand slowly, then help her up.  I walk proudly with her at my side to the hotel check-in and take an upscale room with a king-sized bed.  Arm-in-arm we stroll to the elevator.  I feel the pressure of her lovely shoulder on my arm as she gently leans against me, trying to increase our contact without being obvious.  All I know is I need to hold her.

We open the door and walk into the room.  We face each other as we slowly remove our clothing.  Her milk-white skin is perfectly unblemished.  My ruddy complexion contrasts with hers.

Her body is perfection.  She lies on the bed and reaches for me.  We embrace warmly and then we are kissing, at first lovingly, and then with increasing passion. 

She pulls me to her and I enter her warmth.  Her glove-like center caresses me as I feel my love for her overflowing.  We slide together slowly, lovingly and express our emotions through our physical beings, our eyes lock in a warm gaze of love and contentment.

 

Crap!  Well this is going nowhere!  This is so sickeningly sweet I can’t even get it up.  Some jerk-off scenario this is.  Hell, I don’t want to marry the chick, I just want to fuck her!

 

It woulda been better if I just took the chick without all of this kissy-face crap.  What the hell was I thinkin’?

 

 

2.  Coulda

 

I stroll through the office, my mind intent on one thing.  I glance to and fro, trying to catch a glimpse of her.  And then I see her!

Damn she looks hot!  Those tits are pushing against that little jacket like there’s no tomorrow.  She must have industrial strength buttons cause they look like they should be poppin’.

She stands and turns to get something from a file cabinet.  Her ass is hot!  Those slacks are molded to her little round butt just the way I’d like to mold my mouth to those ass cheeks.  I want to take a big bite out of those rounded orbs and have her begging for mercy.

As I walk towards her she lifts her head.  Those sexy blue eyes smolder when she sees me.  I knew it.  She’s hot for me. I can hardly wait to get my hands on that fantastic little body.

We’ve got to maintain a low profile about this.  I mean, I fully intend to fuck her, but you’ve got to keep things like that quiet in this office.  Before you know it the story would get back to her husband, the Neanderthal son of a bitch.  He might kick the shit out of me.  No, no one better find out about this.

I enter my office and close the door.  I have to maintain some degree of decorum, here. I wait ten minutes, then I call her. She answers on the first ring.

 

“Hello, Moira Johnson speaking.”

 

Her voice sounds so official and yet so sensual.

 

“Hey baby, it’s me, Henry.  Are you alone?”

 

She never breaks stride.  “No, sir, I’m not.  But I could have it done within the hour, if that will suit you, sir.”

 

“Oh, you want me to call you back in an hour?”

 

“Yes, sir, that would be fine.  Goodbye, sir.”

 

“Oh, yeah. That would be more than fine.  Bye, sweet cheeks.”

 

Damn, her voice is so hot I’m panting from the heat when I hang up.  Today is going to be the day.  No doubt about it, I’m gonna get me a piece of that today!

I talk to her before lunch time.  Yeah, the bitch is hot to trot.  We meet after work at the mid-town Hilton’s bar.  It ain’t gonna take much for me to talk her into going upstairs with me, I can tell that for sure. 

She looks hot!  I can tell that I’m not the only guy in the bar that would like to take her upstairs. 

 

I say to her, “Moira, you are so hot! We’re going to forget about all this foreplay shit and go upstairs and get a room.  Then I fully intend to use my eight inch pussy-trainer to fuck you senseless.”

 

Moira’s eyes widened with a mixture of fear and lust.  “Oh, Henry!  You’re so demanding.  I can’t stand to wait another minute.  I want to feel your huge manhood ravishing my little pussy.”

 

Oh, yeah.  She’s hot for me.  We stand.  I take her hand and lead her from the bar.  She waits as I get a room, then we eagerly head for the elevator.  When the doors slide shut we are all over each other, hardly able to wait till we get to the room.

I cop a feel of those sexy hooters as she grinds against my hardening cock.  I want to fuck her on the elevator.

We finally get to our room and go inside.  We tear at our clothes, no longer willing to wait another second.  We scramble onto the bed as I try to take in her sexy beauty, white skin, round ass, big boobs: all the ingredients of a hot little sex machine.

 

I gallantly ask, “How do you want it, babe?  Would you like me to go down on you for a while or are you ready for a good hard fuck right now?”

 

She needs no foreplay.  “Fuck me, Henry.  Fuck me with that huge piece of meat!  I want to feel you take me hard!”

 

She lays back on the bed and quickly I’m on top of her.  I push my huge member against her warm, moist pussy lips.  I don’t remember ever being so hard, so big.  I slowly slide into her cunt.  It seems to suck me in.

 

Moira’s eyes glaze over as she grimaces with a combination of pain and pleasure.  “Oh, yeah, big guy.  Fuck me now!  I need it hard and fast!”

 

I plow into her hard.  We are thrusting against each other like teenagers in heat, rocking back and forth in a terminal power fuck. 

 

“Harder”, she says.  “Fuck me harder!”

 

I’m pounding into her with all my might, giving her all eight inches on every stroke.  I’m riding her bareback.  I might be knocking her up!  Oh, yeah!  I’m into it now. 

 

I hear her start to shriek.  I can feel myself getting closer and closer.  Suddenly I’m going over the top.  AHHHHHH!

 

Well yeah!  That’s what I’m talkin’ about!  Man, that was a humdinger.  Moira wants it from me, I know she does. This is the approach she needs.

If I had used the sex machine approach, I coulda had her anytime at all.  That’s the way I’m going to do it, for sure.  Maybe I’m being a little too macho with that ‘eight inch’ thing.  I’d better keep it at six inches.  That’s closer to the truth.  She might be pissed if she finds out I exaggerated a bit.

Shit, I dribbled cum all over my bedspread.  My mom’s going to kill me.

 

3.  Shoulda

 

I stroll through the office, my mind intent on one thing.  I glance to and fro, trying to catch a glimpse of her.  And then I see her!

Damn she looks hot!  Those tits are pushing against that little jacket like there’s no tomorrow.  She must have industrial strength buttons cause they look like they should be poppin’.

I approach her desk.  She’s alone!  That’s not how I thought it would be.  I thought I would call her.  Shit I may as well just get it over with.

 

She had been studying something on her desk.  My movement attracts her attention.  She raises her head and our eyes meet.  She looks at me questioningly. 

 

“Yes, Henry?  What can I do for you?”

 

No reason to pussy out now.  Just go for it.

 

“Moira, baby.  What say we get together after work for a little bit of the old horizontal tango?”

 

Moira’s eyes widen just a tad.  For a moment she has a slightly startled expression on her face.  Then her face seems devoid of all emotion, expressionless.  She sits that way for ten, maybe twenty seconds.  What the hell is going through her mind?  Have I scored?

 

Abruptly Moira begins to laugh.  She puts her head down and pounds her fist on her desk.  Tears begin to roll down her cheeks as she seems to lose all composure. 

I’m standing there looking like a dufus.  This isn’t exactly the response I expected.  Damn.

Moira calms down enough to look me in the eyes.  She seems to be struggling to keep her composure.

 

“Henry, does that line actually work for you?”

 

What was I supposed to say?  “Actually, I was kinda taking it for a test run here.  It doesn’t seem to be working.”

 

She was composed again.  “Henry, you know I’m a married woman!  My husband and I have an agreement.  If I cheat on him he will kick my butt.  If he cheats on me I will cut off his penis.  Henry, we don’t cheat.”

 

I said (kinda whiny), “Geez, Moira, there’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

 

“No, Henry, there isn’t.  But don’t worry, if we ever change our minds you’ll be the first person I ask.” 

 

And then the chick starts to laugh again like she just said the funniest damn thing anyone ever heard.  I didn’t see the humor in it, myself.  I back out of the situation as fast as I can and make my way down towards my office.  From the end of the hall I can still hear her laughing.

 

Well shit, that didn’t work out very well.  I can see now that I was totally mistaken about Moira.  She’s not nearly as hot as I thought she was.  Actually she’s one of those dowdy housewife types who have little or no sex appeal to a stud on the prowl. 

She was just another trial run anyway.  I really didn’t expect things to work out.

I pulled out my trusty company employee directory.  Well, that finishes the ‘J’s’.  Do we have any ‘K’s’ we can work on?  No?  How about ‘L’s’?  Yeah, that’s right.  Emily Loomis.   

I shoulda gone after Emily Loomis down in accounting right from the start.  Now that is one sexy female.  And she’s hot for me.  I can tell by the way her eyes follow me around the office when I walk by.  Yeah, she’s the one I shoulda gone after from the start.  I’ll plan it all out when I get home.  I hope my mother has changed the sheets.

                       

                        Andrew Wiggin's Main Menu