5 Days a Week: Tuesday (contemporary office romance) by V T Turner

5 Days a Week: Tuesday
     
    V T Turner
     
     
    Copyright © V T Turner 2013
     
    [email protected]
     
     
    Also by V T Turner
     
    My Paid Angel
    Troubled
    Sinister Touch
    Good, Bad, Girl
    Betrayed
    Voyeur
    Forbidden
    The Interview
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
    Part 1: Morning
     
     
    Amber Matthews
     
    Amber was tired. She could barely keep her eyes open. She hadn’t slept a wink, had spent the night staring at the wardrobe, knowing that her lover was locked inside and wondering if and when she should get him out.
     
    She had tried a few times. The first time had been at midnight. She crept out of bed, opened the door for him. She saw his face in the moonlight. Despite having been locked in a cramped wardrobe for hours, despite sitting slumped and half naked, being forced to listen to his lover as she had sex with her husband, he had a bright and warm smile on his face. It melted her heart, but her heart then jumped in shock when she heard her husband stir behind her, heard him mumble to her. She shut the door quickly.
     
    “What’re you doing?” he wanted to know.
     
    She grinned back, his eyes were squinted closed and it was dark, he wouldn’t be able to see, nor would he have been able to see the obvious guilt that she had hid behind her grin. He was awake, so he wanted sex. She pleased him, giving him what he wanted in the hope it would send him straight to sleep, but he didn’t drift off for another hour.
     
    She had tried again when she heard him snoring but he caught her before she clambered out of bed. She hoped Phillips would escape of his own volition, but in the morning, when she went to him after her husband jumped in the shower, she discovered why Phillips hadn’t tried to escape. He was fast asleep.
     
    She roused him with a shove, he woke up startled, his wide eyes bearing into hers. He seemed confused at first, as if unsure where he was. He smiled at her, kissed her, noted the horror and haste on her face and then it dawned on him.
     
    “Shit,” he hissed.
     
    He hopped out of the wardrobe. He was naked from the waist down, his clothes still bundled in the wardrobe with him. She couldn’t help but admire him, couldn’t help but reach for him. She was scantily clad herself, nothing but the nightdress that her husband adored do much. She put a hand on his thigh, felt the firm muscle there, the thin tickling hairs. They kissed and embraced, she felt his penis stir, felt it harden against her thigh.
     
    She allowed him to push her up against the wall, allowed him to brush up her nightdress and sink his cock inside her. She was already wet, already waiting for him. She had been with her husband mere hours before, he had heard, but he didn’t seem to mind, didn’t seem able to restrain himself. She stopped him when he began to thrust, she moved backwards, away from his desperate cock.
     
    She put a finger to his lips when he moved back towards her and tried to kiss her.
     
    “No time,” she said. She could still hear her husband in the shower, he didn’t usually take long, unless he was with her in there, and even then he was barely more than a few minutes. “Go,” she told him.
     
    He gave her a long stare. She saw the desperation, the eagerness in his eyes. They both turned their heads as they heard the shower shut off, listened as Ian Matthews opened the shower door; heard his footsteps on the en suite flooring.
     
    “Go,” Amber hissed.
     
    Phillips turned on his heel and left, taking his clothes with him. She heard him rush across the landing, then creep down the stairs. She turned to the en suite doorway as her husband appeared, naked and dripping. He had a grin on his face and he had an erection. She sighed internally, knowing that he wanted her again and wishing that she had time to be with Phillips instead.
     
     
    Ian Matthews
     
    It was another bright morning,