The Kissing

Oh the kissing. Kissing is what I miss the most when I am alone. Kissing is apparently what he has missed the most about being married.
Oh yes, the kissing.
We were both working late... he had a meeting, I had a deadline... and we found ourselves in our separate offices, texting back and forth like teenagers.
"I don't suppose you'll be alone anywhere dark for about five minutes," I wrote and then I waited.
He responded with a location... and I was out of my seat and down the hall before I could reason myself out of it.
I got there first and sat on a table in the dark, my heart beating faster than I thought possible. No words in my mind. No arguments, no hesitation. Just need. I needed him to put his arms around me and find my mouth with his. I needed him to kiss my neck and my face with an unbearable sweetness and I needed him to whisper, "Oh. Wow." against my hair.
And he did.
Five minutes in the dark, kissing and breaking every rule and boundary and then he was off to his meeting and I drove home in the dark, reliving every second of his mouth and tongue. For an hour all could think was, "More, more, more."
Just before I got home he sent another text, "OK, I need more."
And I thought, "Anything."
Anything. Just kiss me like that again. Need me like that again.
Anything.

The Beginning

It started out as pretend. A teasing comment that made me blush and laugh as it was supposed to. I knew he was joking, but there was a current of truth in the way he held my eyes for just a fraction longer than he should have. Something deep inside me flopped over and I started having dreams about his hands and mouth. I started wondering what it would be like to kiss him.

He says it started with my interview. He walked into the office and something clicked in his head. The following several months just sort of reinforced his initial impressions. And he says I am the first person to call his bluff. Turns out he wasn't entirely bluffing.

He is funny. And careful and kind. He is insecure in a sort of goofy way. But somehow he doesn't lack self confidence, or at least doesn't appear to. He talks a good game. And he's smart. And he's interested in me.

He is a mistake. Not, certainly, the biggest mistake of my life. Definitely the biggest mistake of my brand-spanking-new career. I haven't even picked up my diploma yet.

He is a secret. My biggest yet. The secret I can only tell my oldest friend and write about so anonymously here.

And I will be hurt. Maybe badly. But there have been other bad hurts and I have managed to make it through so far. My past relationships are a big part of what makes this horrible mistake seem not so bad. Here is an opportunity to have great sex with a man who does respect me, will communicate with me and won't expect me to become some watered down version of myself so that I can fit more clearly in the wife jar.

I'm really not anti-marriage. I should say that too. Some people do well with marriage. Some people do it so well that they keep doing it over and over. I married twice - once too young to the father of my child and once too quickly to an alcoholic who died suddenly a few years later. I decided marriage may just not be my forte.

I thought that now, in my 30's, with a teenager and two failed marriages there would be less pressure to remarry. I was wrong.

The problem is that while I want to be adored and I want affection (and sex) I don't really want the strain and obligations of a relationship. Not right now.

Beginning a relationship with my (quite married) boss is not smart or dignified or recommended. But it will certainly be interesting.