Four writers for the price of one blog
7 Variations on a Sexually Inappropriate Comment
Erotica by William Crimson
She’s 2 time zones removed from her husband and children. She’s a go-getter. She’s a lawyer representing a fortune 500 company. She’s ambitious. She’s accomplished. She’s beaten the competition and she’s earned a cocktail at the 5 star lounge. She’s seated at a table in the company of powerful men – a powerful woman to be reckoned with.
One man excuses himself to take a late-night call, another to order a drink, another to call it a night. The last remaining man, tall with graying temples, cuffs like ivory, pin stripes and a red, power-tie, leans back in his studded leather seat. He clinks his glass of bicardi and ice with a ring that tries too hard. And He says, with a smooth Texas drawl:
“Sugar, I’ve been watchin’ you all day. Don’t think you can go prancin’ round in your high-heel shoes and hiptight skirt and expect a man not to notice. I say this as pure compliment (I don’t consider myself a sexist man), you’re the prettiest gal in this establishment. Hell, your sexier than any a’these scrawny girls runnin’ around servin’ drinks. I’d pay – no, hell I’d tip half my worth to be served up by the likes of you. You got experience. Just bendin’ over, picture perfect, pourin’ me another fine glass o’rum. God damn. I know what kinda’ tip a girl like you deserves. Right here. Right here, over this table, and as just as long as it took to hear that sexy voice of yours trill like a glorious bird. Hell, if we were hitched, I’d make you a fine home. I’d treat you right. Legs like yours were made for openin’. Tits like yours? Don’t get me wrong, but a gal with gumption needs a man’s directin’ every now and then. Just a remindin’. What makes a man a man and a woman a woman. Why, there isn’t any higher pleasure afforded us in life but to be a man with a woman and woman with a man. I hope your husband knows what he’s got in you. He’s a lucky man. He’s a luck, lucky man if he does. If he doesn’t, well, you know where to find me. I know how to take care of a woman like you.”
Variation 1 • The Hotel Room
Oh yes, she’d leaned forward, a long finger-nail tapping her red-wine glass, lips cork-screwed into a pinched rage.
Now Kaitlyn stared at herself in the mirror of her hotel room. She’d thrown off her pant-suit jacket in a rage. She’d paced back and forth like a caged animal. She’d downed two more glasses of wine, hands shaking. She looked in the mirror and said: “Fuck. You.” and “You son-of-a-bitch” and “Go fuck yourself” and everything else she didn’t say when she’d sat there, speechless, gob-smacked, like a teen-aged girl.
She gave a choked snarl.
But then she closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. ‘He was just another asshole. How many assholes were there in the world? He was just one more. ‘
She undressed in front of the mirror. She turned. She cupped her breasts. She turned her back to the mirror and slipped her hands from her waist, to her hips, to her ass. She spread her feet, studying her back, spine and muscles. She almost bent over, just little, but didn’t. She fingers slid between her thighs, but she didn’t. She turned around. She palmed her abdomen. “Not going there,” she firmly said to the 40-something mother in the mirror.
Variation 2 • The Café
“He said what?”
“He said I had a nice ass,” answered her friend with a wrinkle of her nose.
“That’s not appropriate.”
“I know. Right — It’s just — He’s kinda’ cute.”
“It was inappropriate.”
“We were flirting!” Kaitlyn’s friend rolled her eyes. “ It’s not like he was some guy on the street. I mean, what do you think?”
“Right, so did you tell him he had a nice bulge?”
“Take it as a compliment?”
“No!” Her friend shrugged. “He probably ‘would’.”
“Oh for God’s sake!”
“Kaitlyn, what’s the deal?”
She took a deep a breath. “I just — never mind.”
“We were flirting!”
“That doesn’t give him the right—“
“Kaitlyn!” Sheryl looked at her with a wide-eyed get-a-clue look. “Doesn’t your husband ever tell you you have a nice ass?”
Variation 3 • Breakfast in the kitchen
She dipped her rice-cake in strawberry-jamb.
“Watching your figure?” he said without looking up from his smartphone.
A long pause. He spoke again without looking up. “Yes?”
“So— do you ever wish I just stayed home?”
“You’d be miserable.”
“Okay, maybe. I don’t know.”
“You’d be miserable.”
“I might — Yes, I might be miserable, but do ‘you’ ever wish—”
“What?” He interrupted. “And have to live with you: a miserable Type A house wife?”
“This isn’t about me, Ed.”
“Are you saying you want to stay home?”
Kaitlyn bit her lips and stared at her husband, but the could-you-be-any-more-clueless look was lost to his smartphone.
“Do you want to stay home?”
“We’ve done pretty well. They’re talking about making me a partner. I know we could—”
“I’m not asking you to fix anything!”
“Didn’t you just say you wanted to stay home?” said her husband, finally looking up.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, Ed!”
Variation 4 • Personnel Office
“Hi Susan. I’m supposed to be at a meeting. What’s this about?”
Susan pushed up her brown, plastic reading glasses and lifted the top of a paper. She was a heavy-set Sioux in a flowing blouse. She had a high, nervous voice, red cheeks, and kept her black hair in a long tight braid. “Is everything all right?”
“Well, Brian Goldstein filed a complaint—“
“Aren’t you two partners?”
Susan shifted uncomfortably, looking over her spectacles. “He says you made sexually inappropriate comments.”
“Oh for God’s sake.”
“Well, he says right here you complimented his figure.”
“Finger. I complimented his ‘finger‘.”
“Finger. Well that—” Susan paused, exhaled. “Finger then. I suppose— If that’s the kind of thing you like. I mean, if that’s what attracts you; but is that appropri—“
Kaitlyn clenched her hair in both hands, closing her eyes. “Finger. I complimented his finger. He gave the judge the finger.”
“The judge didn’t see him.”
“Well, I should certainly hope not. That’s not very professional.” Susan lifted the next paper. “He also says you patted his— bottom — when you complimented his figure.”
“Kaitlyn, why would you do that if you were complimenting his finger? You know, your conduct has always been sterling. This is so out of chara— You’re laughing.”
Kaitlyn wiped an eye. “No, I’m sorry.”
“I understand what it’s like?”
“What what’s like?”
“Oh, I could hardly keep my hands off of men when I was younger.”
“You — what?”
“It was terrible. Honestly Kaitlyn, I fantasize about—” Susan cupped her hand next to her mouth and whispered —Sex!— and then said, “—all the time. The day I met and married Roger was the luckiest day of my life.”
“Of course! He calls me God’s gift to boob-men. He can’t leave me alone. Every night. I like to say: Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays Roger’s couriers from their swift completion. You’d think I’d be 80 pounds lighter for the exercise, but all he says is more ‘cushion for the pushin’. I can’t imagine what it would be like to be married to someone only half as interested or just plain not interested in something so important to life and love. I’d be hopeless if it weren’t for Roger. He just knocks all that excess energy right out of me. I can come to work and just think about work. Maybe you should just take some time to be alone with Ed? It might do wonders. You never take a vacation. That’s not healthy. All work and no play makes Jill dream all day.”
“I—” But Kaitlyn was dumbstruck.
“Well, you know, I ‘am‘ going to have to write up a rep—“
“I did not pat his ass.”
“His —” Susan glanced at the document. “He ‘did‘ write bottom.”
“It was his finger.”
“You patted his finger?”
“His finger. He was giving the judge the finger. We were leaving the courtroom and he was giving the judge the finger!”
Susan looked at Kaitlyn blankly.
“He was holding his finger behind him,” Kaitlyn explained, “against his ass, and giving the judge the finger as he was leaving. I covered it with my briefcase.”
“Why would he do that?”
“The judge was an asshole.”
“No, I don’t mean that. Why would he write a report accusing you of sexual harassment?”
“He has anger management issues.”
“Well— I don’t know why I would continue working with someone like that.”
“I just mean if I were ‘you‘.”
“He’s a fucking brilliant lawyer.”
“Did anyone else see him give the judge a finger.”
“I don’t know.”
“Then it’s his word against yours.”
“You’re going to take this seriously?”
“Well, that’s protocol. I can’t just ignore protocol, Kaitlyn.”
“He’s getting back at me because I wouldn’t let him—” She paused, looked at her watch.
“You wouldn’t ‘what‘?”
“Oh, that’s good. That’s really good. What’s the one thing that would get me out of a meeting so he could be alone with my client.”
“Well I don’t— ”
The two women glanced at each other. “How’s your grandson?”
“Took his first step last week.” Susan dropped the complaint into the trash. “I would tell you about it, Kaitlyn, but I’m sure you’ve got meetings to attend.”
Kaitlyn patted Susan’s hand. “We should have a drink. After work. Sometime soon.”
Variation 5 • Saturday Brunch at Home
“Yes?” Ed sighed.
“So, what would you do if a woman said you had a sexy ass.”
Ed’s next spoonful of soup stopped midway between the bowel and his mouth. “Women don’t do that.”
Kaitlyn closed her eyes and exhaled. “But what if one did?”
“Are we making love?”
“Then why would she say that?”
“She—” Kaitlyn stared at her perplexed husband. “Okay. Let’s say you were on the bus.”
“I don’t take the bus.”
“For God’s sake, Ed! What if you were at a hotel. You go down to have a drink with colleagues at the end of the day. While you’re sitting there, one of the women says you have a cute ass, she’d like to take you home and be your sugar-mommy.”
“What does she look like?”
“What does she—? Who cares?”
“But— like that’s all that matters?”
“Well, no, that’s not ‘all‘ that matters. How old is she? Is she stacked? What kind of ass does she have?”
Kaitlyn stretched out her — “Yes!” — with operatic obviousness.
“You didn’t tell me.”
Kaitlyn leaned forward, hands gesturing to herself, head cocked to the side.
“Yeah, okay.” Ed put down his spoon. “So, is there anything else I need to know about this ‘hypothetical‘ so I can give you the right answer?”
“Yeah, she’s got boobs. She’s sexy as hell. She’s got a smooth Texas drawl. She wears a tube skirt and high heels. She’s blond. She’s got the ass of a 20 year old with the brains of a 40-something. She talks like she owns you.”
“And I’m married?”
“You’re married, Ed. I don’t know about ‘happily’”, air quotes, “because I’m still deciding.”
“Me? No, you! You! You’re deciding. Don’t make this about me.”
Ed let go of his spoon. “What?”
“For fuck’s sake, Ed! She tells you you have a gorgeous ass. She wants to suck your cock all morning, afternoon and night. She says any wife that lets you out of the house doesn’t deserve to keep you. She wants your baby and she’s rich, and she’s a lawyer for T&A Oil, and you’re never going to work another day in your life, and with tits like yours she’d bend you over and fuck you right here, right now, in front of God and country because your the sexiest and most beautiful god-damn woman he’s ever seen.”
“With tits like—?”
Ed leaned back with a long, exhaling —“Oh…”
Variation 6 • Monday Noon at the Café
“He did,” answered Sheryl.
“’He‘ did?” Kaitlyn shook her head. “Weren’t you there?”
“You don’t think they have security cameras in the stairwell, do you?”
“No! I mean, I don’t think so. It’s not like I ever worried about security cameras in stairwells.”
“No, I guess you wouldn’t.”
“Yeah.” Kaitlyn bit her lip, then answered dryly. “Yeah, I guess I wouldn’t.”
“I’ve just never done anything like that. So sudden. He was so — forceful. One minute he’s talking dirty, whispering in my ear, making me wish I’d brought a second set of panties, and then he’s got my arm and he’s not saying anything. He’s just yanking me to the stairs.”
“He could be fired!”
“I know,” she answered dreamily. “It was so hot — when a guy puts everything on the line for that — for you — for that.”
“Sheryl, I just worry. You’re young. You’re an amazing lawyer and something like this?”
“I knew a guy in high school.” Sheryl leaned forward. “You know, I was such a good girl. I graduated with straight A’s, never touched alcohol, never had sex. But, God, there was one night— There was a guy, the damaged, beautiful guy. I swear he’s in every high school. I was at a football game with friends. Don’t ask me how or why but there I was, with him, under the stands, right under where my friends and parents were sitting. I’m shaking like a leaf. He’s right behind me. I can feel him pressing himself against me. I’d never felt a guy, hard, before, and there it was, right up against my ass. Right there before I even knew you could do it that way. He was holding both my arms right below the shoulder and I could feel him press and press against me. I didn’t know whether to scream or melt! I didn’t know I could do this to a guy? The guy every girl wanted! And he was whispering in my ear. ‘I know you want it,’ he was saying. ‘I can. Right here. Right now. And they’ll never know. Nobody has to know – just you, me, and your straight-A twat full of my spunk. I know what you’re like.’ And he bit my ear, and I had my first orgasm, right there, right then, with half the town, with all my friends, with my Mom and my Dad sitting right above me. Daddy’s little girl had her first orgasm. And you know what, yesterday, when Daniel was holding my arm so tight it almost hurt, I had another one. Just the way he touched me. Before we even got into the staircase. There’s something about a guy who won’t take ‘No’ for an answer.”
“In a good way.” Sheryl gave Kaitlyn a corrective stare.
“But how do you know?”
“Aren’t you married?” Sheryl answered with inflected obviousness. “Doesn’t Ed ever make you feel like your the sexiest woman on the planet? Like there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to get between your legs. Doesn’t he ever look at you—you know, that look that men get—like you are so going to get laid. God, there’s nothing makes a woman feel so — fuck ― fe-male.”
Kaitlyn bit her lip and sighed.
Sheryl patted her hand. “Hon, you and Ed need a vacation.”
“So, what’s going to happen between you guys?”
“Nobody since high school made me orgasm just by touching me. It’s just — I don’t know. I just love that kind of confidence in a guy.”
Sheryl’s lips pursed into a wry and knowing smile. “Details?”
Kaitlyn held up her fingers, a pinch between her thumb and forefinger. “A little?”
“On the stairs. Skirt up. Panties down. From behind. Just like that. Two.” She held up her fingers. “I had a second orgasm.”
Variation 7 • Tuesday morning at the Kitchen Table
“What are you doing up?”
“I’ve got an appointment with a sexy woman.”
Ed moved behind Kaitlyn. She was ready to go. The kids were off to school. She was in calf knee-length, pin striped skirt, heels and white blouse. Her briefcase was in one hand and her suit in the other. He took her shoulder length hair, just above the nape of her neck, in one hand, and moved the palm of the other to her abdomen, just above the waistline of her skirt. “I’m sick of playing games.”
“I’ve got to get to work!”
“You know how hot your ass is?”
His hand slipped under the waist band, his fingers under her the tops of her panties.
He yanked back her head. She gasped, interrupted. “A woman like you, with tits like yours, with an ass like yours? Who’d let a woman like that out of the house?”
She inhaled sharply. His finger slipped inside. He pulled back her head, tighter, licked the skin under her neck, bit her ear, then bit the taut skin above her collar bone. She rose to her toes and felt his cock pressing against her ass.
“Ed, let me just—”
“Feel that cock?” Ed licked her her jaw line. “Know where it’s going?”
“In my―,” she finally breathed. “Please, in my cunt.”
“I had a long talk with a gal at personnel. Susan. Do you know her? Completely understanding. I told her you’d be taking a couple weeks. The kids are staying with grandma and grandpa. Time we caught up.” Kaitlyn’s eyes rolled. The briefcase and suit slipped to the kitchen floor. Her toes turned inward and her knees bent. “Whose in control here?” he asked.
“Bend me over.”
“You’re in control. Please, you’re in control.”
He yanked up her skirt and yanked down her panties. He bent her over the table, her long legs forced straight and apart. He held her hair in one hand. He pushed the curl of her spine, forcing her to show herself between the lifted skirt and lowered panties. Her mouth abruptly opened, eyes abruptly widened, and she uttered a choked groan.
“How does that feel?”
His hands moved to her waist and hips. She grunted as the table scraped the floor. “Remember that?”
“Oh fuck it’s deep!”
“Been a while.”
“Please, please, please.”
“That’s better.” The table moved steadily toward the counter as Ed thrust. The toes of Kaitlyn’s black, high heels scarped the floor along with the table. Her torn underwear hung from her left knee. “I’m getting sick of you running around,” he snarled.
“And I’m sick of your attitude.”
She reached across the table, grabbing the other side. Hher groan stretched into back-arching ‘yes!’. Her eyes rolled with the sounds of her husband’s orgasm. His fingers dug painfully into her hips. The table banged the counter with each of his gravelly spurt. “Here’s what you’re going to do,” she heard him finally growl, still feeling him rigidly inside. His fingers still bruised her hips. He didn’t let go. “You’re going to get back into bed and open your thighs for another load.”
She lifted and ground her impaled opening against him.
She reached for his hand, desperately opened it and sucked on his finger.
“You are mine,” he said again.
She nodded, she licked, she ground her pussy on his cock and sucked his finger.
“And then we’ve got a plane to catch. You need to be tropically fucked. You need a five star hotel fucking. You need a Caribbean fucking.”
She nodded. She sucked his finger.
And even if words didn’t make her come, not all orgasms are like orgasms.