Never Again Pt. 02

"It can never happen again," she had said. The words rang in his head like a bell continuously as Tim Wallace went to work every day. In a lot of ways his job at the Seattle marketing agency, Branson Tanner, hadn't changed much over the past several weeks. He continued to fulfill his role as an Art Director, he continued to prank fellow co-workers, and he regularly met and joked with his closest friends in the office, Lyra Price and Kelly Forbes.

In fact, it was both comforting and troubling that so little had changed. It was Kelly who had said, "It can never happen again." She was referring to their sexual encounter, the result of a long-term attraction between them.

Kelly, a pretty blonde with glasses and hazel eyes, had married a man named Mark, whom she discovered cheated on her after only a couple of weeks. Afterwards, Tim and Kelly met at their regular bar, Marty's, where Tim finally admitted to having feelings for her. It led to a long discussion, which led to a walk back to her car in the rain, which led to a passion-fueled evening in the back seat.

To Tim, it felt like it was a long time ago, but it also felt like there should have been a much more uncomfortable aftermath. Their encounter was deep and meaningful, but afterward, Kelly and Tim were able to resume their friendship as though it had never happened at all. In his private moments, he found it strange and wondered at the sincerity of it all. Was Kelly really unaffected, or was she just really good at pretending?

He certainly wasn't going to make things harder by asking that question. He valued their fun and lively friendship, and didn't want to make things difficult for Kelly. In fact, it probably wasn't going to be a good idea for anyone to know what had happened. It was between him and Kelly and should stay that way.

Unfortunately, Tim didn't count on Lyra Price figuring it out on her own. Lyra, who had known Kelly longer than Tim had, was pretty intuitive about these things. It was Friday and Tim, Kelly and Lyra were meeting up at Marty's for a drink or two after work, like they often did. Lyra arrived before Kelly, which gave her a chance to find out for sure what had happened between Tim and the blonde Copywriter.

Lyra, a thick, black Project Manager, sat across from Tim. "So," she said, "was it good?"

"What, my drink?" Tim replied.

"Come on, Tim. You know what I mean," Lyra pressed.

Tim feigned ignorance. "Not sure what you're talking about."

"I'm talking about you and Kelly," she got right to the point. "You've both done your best to hide it, but something happened."

Tim didn't know how to escape the conversation. He wasn't in the habit of keeping things from Lyra. "Did she say something?" he asked.

"She didn't need to," she answered.

"It was just the one time several weeks ago," Tim admitted. "It was probably a bad decision and we've agreed it isn't going to happen again."

"But you wish it would, don't you?" Lyra was unrelenting. Tim guessed she was being protective of Kelly.

"Well yeah, but it can't. She's married."

"Damn straight," Lyra agreed, "So you have to find a way to get it off your mind. Find someone else. Get laid."

Tim laughed. "Yeah, just like that," he smiled.

"Actually, yeah," Lyra said. "You have her skin on the brain, Tim. It's what you'll think of until you replace it. Find some strange, Get your balls drained, playboy. Hopefully, if you can distract yourself from Kelly for a while, you'll be less inclined to make another bad decision with Kelly."

Tim laughed loudly.

"It's not that funny," Lyra raised her eyebrow.

"Actually, it is," Tim said. "Kelly dared me to fuck Jeannie Novaczek."

"She dared you?" Lyra laughed. "Actually, that does sound like Kelly."

"She quintuple dared me."

"Okay, I believe you. Why Jeannie? That's an odd choice."

"That's what I thought too," Tim laughed.

Jeannie Novaczek was one of the other artists, tattooed with a pierced eyebrow, her hair dyed the same blue as her eyes, and shaved on the sides, the top teased up with who-knows-what to make a sort of wide Mohawk. She was a wild child, not exactly what most would consider a compatible match with the more practical-looking Tim.

Ever since Kelly presented the dare, Tim admitted that he saw Jeannie a little differently. The thought Kelly had put in his head made him take longer looks at the punky artist. There was nothing elegant about her. She wasn't slender and statuesque. She had a party-girl body, with some beer weight that never stopped her from covering her D-sized tits under the tight t-shirt of whatever band she saw last. There was usually some type of bedazzled, low hip-hugging jeans included in her ensemble. Tim was beginning to see her sexual appeal.

Tim and Lyra were still laughing when Kelly arrived. She was wearing a tight brown dress that accented her figure and made it difficult for him to avoid thinking about what she had looked like naked.

"What are you two laughing about?" Kelly asked.

Lyra placed her hand to her chest. "I was talking about how we're going to get Tim laid."

"Totally," Kelly agreed as she sat down next to Lyra. "I've been saying the same thing."

Kelly was a good actress.

"Didn't I give you a dare a few weeks back," Kelly continued, something about a certain someone in our office?"

"A quintuple dare," Tim clarified. "It isn't as though I'm a tattooed bass player," Tim complained. "As you can see, I'm not exactly her type."

"Tim, you're a hot guy," said Lyra. "Give yourself some credit."

"Thanks," Tim replied. "Now let's get another round. I'm sure we have better things to discuss than my sex life."

Tim clearly didn't want to talk about it while Kelly was there. Lyra took the hint. The rest of the evening was spent much the way it usually was, griping about bosses, telling jokes, swapping stories, planning their next round of pranks, and listening to Lyra complain about her boyfriend, Derek.

It was Thursday, a couple weeks later and Tim was finishing up some work at the office. It was 8:30. Most of the lights had already gone off automatically. Tim presumed he was alone.

"Busy week?" an English-accented female voice sounded behind him.

It was Marion Tanner, the co-founder of the agency. She was a striking woman in her mid fifties, with blue eyes and brown hair with streaks of gray. She was usually on the road, drumming up new business, so Tim wasn't used to seeing her around. Tim swung his chair to face her.

"Yeah, just finishing up some work," he said. "What are you doing here so late?"

"Contracts," she answered. "Looks like it's just us three here now."

"Three? Who else is working late?" asked Tim.

"I have Jeannie Novaczek finishing up a presentation for me," said Marion. "I'm heading home. Do you want me to order some food for you two?"

"No, that's okay," said Tim. "I'm getting out of here soon too."

"Sounds good," she said. "By the way, I'm throwing a little party at my house for the art people next Friday, if you're interested. David, Phillip, Sergei, and Samantha have already said they're coming. It would be great if you joined us."

"Sure," said Tim. "Thanks for the invitation."

"No problem," Marion smiled. "Okay. I have to run. You'll tell Jeannie about it, won't you?"

"Sure thing," he said.

Marion walked toward the elevators and Tim shut down his computer. He walked over to Jeannie's desk to find her clicking away at her work. "Hey Jeannie," he said.

She didn't move. "Jeannie?" he repeated.

Still nothing, and Tim realized she had her ear buds in. He nudged her chair.

She swung around, startled, and pulled her ear buds out. "What?" she demanded, annoyance in her voice.

"Sorry," said Tim. "I was just talking to Marion and she wanted me to ask you if you wanted to go to her house next Friday for a party."

"Yeah, sure," she replied. "Whatever. Is she still here?"

"She just left," Tim replied.

"Shit. She was going to get dinner."

Tim smacked his forehead. "Sorry Jeannie. I told her I didn't need anything. I didn't know she hadn't asked you."

"It's fine. Whatever. I should get out of here anyway," said Jeannie.

"Let me buy you dinner," said Tim. "Marty's is nearby. I'll make it up to you."

"Why not?" she replied. "It's smoke-and-drink o'clock anyway. Let me shut down."

It was 9:00 by the time they got to Marty's. They sat down at the bar and ordered drinks and some food. When conversation wasn't exactly flowing freely Tim asked how Jeannie had gotten into art, why she decided to become a designer, how she like working for Branson Tanner and stuff like that.

"Where do you live?" he asked.

"A block away," she answered.

"Wait. You could have just gone home for dinner," he smiled.

"I didn't want to cook," she said. "Also, Marty's has good bar food." She changed the subject abruptly. "So what's the deal with you and Kelly?" she asked. "You bummed out that she's married now?"

"Um," Tim was caught off guard. "No. I mean she's just a friend."

"Bullshit," Jeannie laughed, turning to face him and leaning her elbow on the bar. A red and blue pattern of tattoos trailed up her arm and disappeared under her t-shirt. "Trust me. I know when a guy wants something he can't have."

Tim's stunned expression transformed into a slight, wily smile. "Sure about that?" he asked.

Jeannie's expression changed too, as though she was crafting a response that would get Tim to admit his infatuation. "So, if I told you I thought Kelly was a bitch, you'd be okay with that?"

"Okay, no," Tim answered. "But would you be okay with that if someone said that about one of your friends?"

"That's different," said Jeannie.

"How is that different?" Tim asked.

Jeannie laughed. "First, all my friends are bitches. Second, I don't want to fuck any of my friends."

Tim smiled and shook his head. "I don't want to fuck Kelly."

"Again, I call bullshit," Jeannie said. "Kelly's hot and you're friends with her."

"So, if your friends are hot, you have to want to fuck them?"

"Yes."

"So, none of your friends are hot?"

Jeannie smiled, knowing Tim was making his point fairly well. She wasn't about to back down. "Nope."

"You only want to fuck people who aren't your friends?"

"Guess so."

"Then how do you know they want you if you aren't their friend?"

"Because I'm good at knowing when a guy wants what he can't have."

Tim knew he had her cornered now. "What he can't have," he quoted. "So, you don't want to fuck your friends, and the guys that aren't friends, that you know want you, can't have you."

"Alright," said Jeannie, laughing. "I guess the logic breaks down. Doesn't matter. You want Kelly and can't have her."

"Presuming I agreed with you," said Tim, "would you still call Kelly a bitch?"

"Yes," Jeannie said, loudly, finishing her drink and looking him in the eye again. "She keeps pranking me, which, you know, I don't give a shit, but she's also a little tease because she strings you along even though she's gotten married."

"Even if I'm not interested?" Tim asked.

"Fuck. This again?" Jeannie threw up her hands. "I'm not arguing that part. You want her. She doesn't want you back. She's a bitch. Let's grab a smoke."

Tim snickered. "Let me pay the bartender and I'll be right out."

As soon as Tim found Jeannie outside the bar she inhaled her cigarette and offered it to Tim. He took it, looked at her and took a long, slow drag.

"Never took you for the type," she said.

"Type for what?" he said, passing the cigarette back to her.

"Don't know," she answered. "Thought you'd be grossed out by sharing a cigarette."

"Oh yeah," he said sarcastically. "We're practically making out."

Jeannie laughed. "In that case, I should give it more tongue."

"Ooh, give that back," he smiled.

She handed it back. "Oh yeah, you get that revenge, boy."

"You just won't let it die, will you?" he said, taking another long drag.

"I repeat, I know when a guy wants something he can't have," she smirked.

Tim held the cigarette out for Jeannie. "And I repeat, are you sure about that?"

She stepped forward and, without using her hands, placed her lips on the end of the cigarette, looked him in the eye and inhaled. "I'm sure about that."

"So, if I told you I wanted you, you'd already know?" he teased.

"Not necessarily," she teased back. "I only know when a guy wants something... he can't have."

Tim was emboldened. "So, what do you say?" he asked. "Want to help me get that revenge?"

"You asking if I want to have sex with you, Tim?" she raised her pierced eyebrow,

"Yeah," he answered. "Yeah, I am."

She snatched the cigarette from his hand, leaned against the wall and alternated between looking down the street and looking at Tim. "Don't take this as me saying yes," she said. "But do you want to come over to my apartment?"

Her apartment was a mess. There were clothes everywhere, dishes in the sink and unfinished paintings on canvases propped against the wall. Tim looked Jeannie up and down while she walked. She gave him some kind of tour where she rambled about her concert posters and the roommate she had for a while. All he could think of was how far her tattoos went.

She leaned against the doorframe of her bedroom and Tim moved close. He leaned in and kissed her. She slid her hands around his shoulders and pressed back with her body.

He bit at her lower lip. She pulled away and smiled. "Not bad, Tim. I didn't think we would end up doing this, but keep that up and we'll do just fine."

"Shut up," he said.

"Ooh," she replied. "Yes sir."

Tim pulled up on her t-shirt. He stopped when it was still on her arms, above her head. He pressed the shirt against the doorframe with one hand to hold her arms in place. With the other hand, he unfastened her bra, which hooked in the front. Her arm tattoos continued onto her chest, just above her tits. They were quite intricate and artfully done.

Crouching as best he could, Tim held Jeannie's left breast from underneath with his hand and licked her nipple. It stood to attention and he gave it a soft bite. She moaned. He let go of the t-shirt and Jeannie threw it into one of the many clothing piles nearby, followed by her unfastened bra.

Tim stood and took off his shirt. Jeannie ran her fingernails down his chest as he unfastened his pants and dropped them. He popped the button of her jeans and unzipped her fly. He grabbed the top of her jeans, catching the sides of her panties along the way and shoving them down enough to expose her pussy. It was decorated with a neatly trimmed, dark bush.

He pulled his erect cock from his boxers and placed the head of it against the opening to her pussy. He slid it in and pressed her body against the doorframe with his.

"Fuck yes. Your cock is really big," Jeannie cried out. "Use me."

Her tits bounced up and down as he thrust into her again and again. The images of Kelly that filled Tim's mind were vanishing quickly. His eyes drew in the image of Jeannie as her very different body moved against his. Perhaps Lyra was right. This is what he needed to get Kelly off of his mind.

He pulled out of her. "Get out of your clothes," he commanded.

Jeannie compliantly removed her shoes, socks, pants and panties. Tim soaked in the rounded contours of her body, covered with colorful ink. "Turn around," he said.

She turned, looking over her shoulder and biting her lower lip. Another ornate, intricate tattoo trailed from her neck down to the middle of the pearly skin of her middle back. He ran a hand down her back and onto her ass. With a firm smack, he struck her right ass cheek. "Go into the bedroom," he said.

"Yes sir," she said. She walked to the bed, pulled out a drawer in the bedside table and withdrew a glass dildo. She lied down on her back across the bed so that her head hung from the edge and she looked at Tim upside down. She pushed the dildo into her pussy and began to work it in and out with one hand. She used the other hand to fondle her breasts.

Tim slipped out of his shoes and socks, and removed his pants and boxers. "You're so hard, Tim," she said. "You're so fucking hot. I want to be your slut."

Tim stroked his cock as he watched her body wiggle. He moved closer and closer. She removed her hand from her breast and reached out for him. Her hand grasped his dick and drew it to her parted lips. She slipped them over the tip and pulled him into her mouth.

Over and over, he moved his hips forward and back, sliding his cock in and out of her mouth. Jeannie rapidly moved the glass dildo in her pussy. Tim could feel her moan onto him.

She moved her jaw forward so he could feel the head of his cock touch her throat. She was inviting him deeper. He pushed forward and slid down her throat, burying his dick in her mouth all the way to the base before sliding back out.

Jeannie gasped, a delightfully playful look on her face. "Did you like fucking my face?" she asked as she panted.

"You're a nasty little slut, aren't you," said Tim.

"I'm such a fucking whore," she nodded. "I need your cum all over me." She turned over and got to her knees. "Use me," she said. "Treat me like your whore."

Tim moved forward and Jeannie sucked him again. "Yeah, suck my dick, bitch," Tim demanded.

She slid her lips slowly up his shaft to the tip. Then she licked him from the base of his cock all the way back to the end and plunged it back in. She took him deep in her throat again and pulled back. Her mouth felt so good.

She pulled him out and stroked him over her tits. "I want you to shoot your cum on me," she said as she placed his cock between her tits, pressed them together on it and moved up and down again and again. Her large, soft tits were incredible against him. He wouldn't last long. His balls tightened and he knew he was going to cum soon.

Tim took control of his own cock in his hand as Jeannie dropped her hands to her pussy to pleasure herself. There was sweet agony in her face as she drew nearer to orgasm. Tim stroked quickly in front of Jeannie's open mouth.

Finally he erupted, shooting more cum than he ever had before. Pearly liquid shot into her mouth, catching the edges of her lips and trailing onto her cheeks and chin. This sent Jeannie over the edge. She collapsed backward, her fingers still deep in her snatch. She masturbated as she swallowed Tim's cum. Before long, she tensed in ecstasy, completing her orgasm.

"Fuck!" she cried out. "Fuck. Tim, that was so fucking hot."

She climbed to her feet and practically jumped on Tim, digging her nails into his shoulders and plunging her tongue into his mouth. He was caught off guard, but went with it, kissing her back, the salty taste of his own cum in his mouth. Their faces were slick with it, lips entwined in lust for each other.

Jeannie backed away. "Kelly wouldn't do that to you, would she?" she said.

"Kelly who?" said Tim. He was almost sincere. He hadn't anticipated having sex with Jeannie, but so far, it was memorable.

She disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a bottle of water for Tim. "You know," she said. "I wouldn't have guessed you'd be so good at this."

"Good at sex?" he asked.

"Good at the rough stuff, you know?" she clarified. "The name calling."

"That part's new to me," he said. "I hope that was okay with you."

"Oh, no. It was fine. It's hot," she said. "It's all part of an act. I know that. You and I are both just playing a role. We're using each other. You'd better enjoy it, too."

"I enjoyed it," he replied.

"Good," she said, "because after tonight, it isn't happening again."

"Didn't think it was," said Tim.

"Don't misunderstand me," Jeannie clarified, "It's great. I'm just not in the habit of having sex with guys who I work with and who have hopeless crushes on other women."