Chandler: Corrupting HR

In the brief moment that we’re outside the restaurant alone, Monica whispered, “You take Karen. I’ll take your boss. It’s going to work.”

With just that quick statement, my fiancée gave me my objective: convince my H.R. lady to sleep with me. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy. Yeah they enjoyed dinner, but laughing politely at stories and fucking a coworker were completely different. My only hope was that **** has loosened her enough first.

Monica pulled my boss to walk with her. I had no doubt she would convince him to sleep with her. Despite all reservations about fucking a subordinate’s girl, Monica would be irresistible. I saw how he looked at her the entire night—the subtle peeks at her cleavage, the obvious stares at her huge ass when she walked by. He would be easy. My H.R. Business Partner would not be. She was a professional.

Karen walked near me but not too closely. She gestured to the couple in front of us, “You better watch out. Eric is infatuated with your fiancée.”

“Who wouldn’t be? She’s amazing,” I said. Without thinking I wrapped my arm around Karen’s shoulder, and held her tight to me. Realizing my mistake, I said, “Sorry,” and started to let go.

She grabbed my hand and placed it back on her shoulder, “You know I’m always cold! Keep me warm!” She snuggles into me as we walk. “I like this version of Chandler outside of work.”

In front of us, Monica and my boss didn’t quite get so close, but their walking was interrupted by laughter and flirting. I wasn’t anxious about my wife fucking my boss. I might have be if there wasn’t a foxy black woman twice my aged snuggled up against me though.

We breezed into our first floor apartment. I immediately started a pot of coffee to keep up our premise and because it may be a long night and I don’t want to fall asleep early.

Eric fought our bar cart. He called out, “You have 1942!? We have to take a shot of this!”

Karen waved, “Oh no! I do wild things on tequila.”

I took her hand, “Then you have to take the shot,” and led her to where Eric was pouring the shots. Monica followed every move to he makes. Her pouty lips held slightly open. She was bent slightly forward showing off her tremendous cleavage. I don’t know if she’s putting on too strong a show, but I really wanted to fuck her right then.

We took the shots. Eric started to pour another round.

Karen said, “I can’t do another!”

I took her hand before she could walk away. I looked into her brown eyes. “Come on, one more. Let’s get wild.”

It was an invitation. Not just for another shot, but for something more. This was the moment: if she turned it down, things would stay professional, but if she agreed then things were going to get wild. She understood, and I could see her contemplating whether to cross the line with a coworker.

Finally she said, “Okay. Just one more.”

“Awesome! And afterwards I’ll give you the quick tour.” She was down. Now I just had to make the first physical move and hope I didn’t get rejected.

After the second shot of overpriced tequila, I guided her back through the kitchen to the hall. It was a two bedroom apartment—the tour wasn’t going to take long. I just needed someplace private.

Walking into our second bedroom, that we had designated as an office, Karen said, “This will be your baby’s room.”

I laughed, “Not for a few years. We don’t want that responsibility quite yet. We’re still trying to have fun.”

She flashed a little smile at that, and turned to check out the pictures on the wall. I took a moment to admire her thick ass. The fabric of her skirt stretched taut and smooth over the curve. So smooth. No panty line. Was this woman who was almost 60 wearing a thong!? No way: it had to be some spandex shorts that squeezes and lifts. Either way she looked good.

Karen turned around and caught me in my carnal thoughts. She playfully said, “You keep looking at me like I’m a snack.”

That definitely wasn’t professional. Definitely not something a woman from H.R. would say to a male coworker.

I responded with something as equally unprofessional, “I was thinking more like dessert.”

She didn’t back away. In fact she moved closer. Looking up at me, she said, “I would’ve never believe you’d have a sweet-tooth for chocolate.”

I made the move.

I bent forward and she tilted her face up. We met in a deep kiss. A brief hint of her tongue, then her luscious lips sucked mine as I pulled away. All her pent up sexual repression released in one kiss. That kiss left me speechless, and she knew it.

She asked, “You sure you’re ready for this?”

“Oh yeah,” I said, pulling her into another kiss. I combed my hand into her short locks, moving them from her face. God it felt so different and amazing to be kissing a woman that wasn’t Monica. Her style of kissing was refreshing. Every flick of the tongue or bite of the lip kept me in the moment.

We could’ve made out for hours, but we were interrupted by Monica’s voice calling us to the living room. Karen’s eyes widen like she just remembered that I was engaged. She had only been thinking of the dilemma of sleeping with a coworker. Not the dilemma of fucking a taken man.

I slipped an hand around her lower back and guided her. “Come on. Things are about to get wild.”