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because she looked relieved and even smiled.
"Any way that you can?" she asked me softly, "Then you can call me Candy from now on! Um, just when its the two of us, of course." Duh! Slowly, it sank in as I remembered the condition for calling her Candy. I scrambled around the desk and sank to my knees at her feet.
"Candy," I said, tasting the sound of it as she took my head in her hands like she had done before. "Kathy," she answered as her lips molded around mine. As our tongues touched, my hand slipped up her skirt and found bare flesh halfway up her thigh. It was stockings, not pantyhose! At least that was what she was wearing today! The thrill of it made me pause and savor the moment while her tongue massaged mine. God! She was a sexy kisser! My hand inched further up her leg and my fingertips lightly stroked the smooth surface of her panties and I could feel her pubic hair and her slit through the nylon. Instantly, she stopped kissing me with a little gasp. Her thighs tightened on my arm, and she drew away from me.
"Oh, Kathy!" she gasped, terror in her voice, "Im so sorry; I really cant believe I did this..." Tears welled in her eyes as she saw herself as a pervert seducing a child. I could read her like a book now that I was back on my feet, um, as it were. But what do I do about what I was reading?
I got up and held her head against my tummy while she cried, and I made soothing noises. This wasnt going well! I decided that the only thing that would save me now was harshness, "Thats okay," I crooned, "Make me feel like a stupid, awkward teenager again. Its okay; hurt me as much as you feel the need. I understand. Bob hurt you by being a faithless asshole, and I have only been a silly girl who wants to enjoy sex with you. Its only right that you ask me up here, then act like I wasnt woman enough to even distract you in your grief." My tone was still comforting, but the words were having an effect. She stopped crying.
"Oh no, Kathy," she gasped, "Its not like that!" Then she gave me a suspicious squint. Apparently my manipulations were too obvious. Ha, obvious! I only wanted her to stop crying and it had worked like a charm!
"Of course it is," I said softly, "You pretended that you wanted some honest sex, and then as soon as you get me stirred up, you snatch it away from me. Only, you should understand something. Youre not hurting Bob; youre hurting someone who really cares about you, and youre hurting yourself. Okay, I dont know you well enough to claim I really love you. But I feel like I do, and that hardly qualifies me for a put down on my sexuality. So, I
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dont turn you on. When I put my hand up your dress, you cry instead of enjoying it. Isnt that what happened?"
I pulled away from her and walked toward the door. I was being a deliberately callous little shit, hoping to shock her into perspective, and okay, I stooped to a little guilt tripping. Like she couldnt see through it – jeez, this is a painful memory for me! But like I said, at least she wasnt crying.
"Goodbye, Ms. Folsom. If you ever want a friend, just call me up. But Im a sex maniac, not a masochist."
"Stop." she said softly and added with a little smile, "Please. I admit that Im more in pieces than myself, if that makes any sense. But I didnt ask you up here to turn you down. Could we try one more time?"
I turned around and walked over to her and around her back. I put my hand on her shoulders and began to massage her. After her neck muscles began to relax, I said, "Maybe what you really want right now is just a good friend. Im pretty flexible you know; I could be a lot of things to you; whatever you like."
She moaned with pleasure at my ministrations, and then giggled, "Well, Ill certainly be happy to consider you as my masseuse, although, sex maniac sounds more interesting." She let me relax her shoulders and neck for a few more seconds, and then she whispered, "What would a sex maniac do with a helplessly confused woman who needs an ego boost and an honestly good thrill? I mean, besides pitching a silly fit and trying to make me feel guilty?"
I let my hands glide over her shoulders and over her huge breasts. Lord, she was stacked! She was wearing a bra; I could feel its lacy texture beneath my palms as my hands kneaded her firm flesh. She moaned throatily, and I whispered in her ear, "Tell me about your sex life." I unbuttoned the top two buttons of her blouse.
"Nothing to tell," she said, bitterness creeping into her voice, "I was a virgin when I married Bob. And I was faithful. That time that I kissed you was the furthest Ive ever strayed, and that was just to help you get over it, Bob was even amused when I told him about it. I-I guess thats why I asked you to... be with me. Youre the closest, physically to me, other than Bob. And Ill never let him touch me again."
I slid my right hand under her bra and ran my fingers over the soft skin of her left breast, gently pinching the nipple between the roots of my fingers while my tongue flicked in her ear. Like everything else on this huge woman, her nipples were really big, too. She sighed, and her stockings rustled as she rubbed her thighs together. "Pull your dress up; I want to see your panties," I breathed in her ear, making her shiver.
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