Printer hums outside the open space. Coffee brews strong, mixing with my floral perfume. Every morning, same routine. I arrive at 8, dive into files. Dad’s care weighs heavy, but work’s my escape. Today, cold autumn air clings. Snow forecast. Inside, heat blasts like equator.
Mom buzzes in kitchenette. Dad’s bedridden—stroke, Alzheimer’s. Association sends help. Usually Brigitte or Evelyne. Women I trust. Never a man. Until today. Nurse chief knocks. ‘Meet Arnaud, replacing Estelle.’
The Building Tension
He smiles. Dimples deepen. Handshake firm. ‘Call me Arnaud.’ Lagoon-green eyes hypnotize. Southern accent warms. I’m Carole. Ambitious manager. Prejudiced? Yeah. Young stud like him in caregiving? No way. But damn, sculpted like Greek god. Svelte, carefree youth.
Irritates me. Hides my pull. Weeks drag. I snap at his newbie slips. Inside, obsessed. Love hits hard. Ten years older. Mom of three girls. Husband coaches soccer. Neglects me. Why now? Adrenaline calls. Risk of slip-up thrills.
Mouse clicks echo. Colleagues glance. I slim down. Shorter skirts. Higher heels. Friend Marie-Noelle styles me. Arnaud’s eyes linger. Cleavage peeks. Ass sways. Innocent brushes spark fire. Fantasies flood. His cock in my dreams. Husband fucks better with Arnaud’s ghost.
Jealousy bites. Daughter Magali chats him up once. Heart rips. Nurse spills: He requests our shift. Hope surges. Spring blooms in mind. Greens match his eyes.
Party night. Dress hugs curves. No panties? Husband begs. I tease. Bal des usagers—office bash. Alcohol flows. Dance floor pulses. Spot him late. ‘Change partners!’ DJ yells. I grind close. Pubis presses. His bulge hardens fast. Hand slides low. Breath hot on neck. Heart pounds.
But no. Girlfriend interrupts. Humiliation stings. Tears flow. Vow ends it.
The Raw Explosion
Next shift. Breakroom door clicks shut. Printer whirs. Coffee-perfume haze. ‘Sorry about party,’ he says. Bises linger. ‘Genevieve’s jealous.’ Rage boils. He grabs waist. ‘Think of you since.’ Lips crash. Tongue invades. Hand gropes tit, ass. I melt. Mom—boss?—nears. Push away.
‘Too late,’ I whisper. Vengeance sweet, regrets bitter.
Door locks now. Conference room. After-hours glow. Files scattered. Arnaud pins me to desk. ‘Fuck prudence,’ he growls. Skirt hikes. Thong rips. Cock springs free. Thick, veined. ‘Wet for me, boss?’ Slang drips. I nod. ‘Pound me. Quick.’
He thrusts. Raw. Deep. Desk creaks. Papers fly. Mouse cord snaps. Coffee mug tips, spills dark scent. Perfume clings sweat. ‘Tighter, slut,’ he grunts. I gasp. ‘Harder, boy.’ Walls thin. Voices outside. Risk spikes thrill. Clit throbs. His balls slap. Gush builds.
Cum hits. Mine first. Shuddering waves. He floods. Hot jets. Pulls out. Drip on thigh.
Pant. Adjust blouse. Smooth skirt. Wipe desk. Unlock door. Click. Smile neutral. ‘Meeting resumes,’ I say. Stride out. Legs jelly. Perfume masks sex musk. Printer hums on. No one knows. Adrenaline pure. Luxure hidden. Pro mask perfect.