Page 57 of Melted by a Man

“They’re friends,” I frowned, “And she’s my coworker. Technically, I’m her superior. So, it’s not exactly the most ethical situation…she’s in Human Resources.”

“…What’s her name?” Lisa asked. I was surprised that she ignored my concern so quickly, but I ran with it.

I couldn’t stop a grin from spreading, “Jacqueline.”

“Oh, what a beautiful name,” Mama nodded in approval, her blonde bob bouncing with the movement, “Does Jacqueline know you fancy her?”

Well, I’d assume so, based on how eagerly she took my cock last night.

…I decided that it was okay to keep some secrets from my mums.

“Yeah, we’ve tiptoed around it,” I lifted a shoulder, “I don’t know how to navigate this at work, though. It’s very new, very early.”

“Well, you’re both adults who can keep things professional at work.” Mummy nodded.

Well, looks like I already fucked that up.

“And just be yourself,” Mama added, “Is she shy? You’ve always gravitated towards shy partners.”

I smirked, “Very.”

“Just let her be shy,” she continued, “You’re such a caring man, and I’m sure she’d be lucky to—” a loud beeping started echoing off camera, and both of my mother’s gazes lifted toward the kitchen, “Oh, bloody hell!”

“Lisa, why is the stove even on?” Mummy exclaimed. Both women scrambled, sharing amused laughter as they struggled to distinguish whatever my mother caught on fire this time. Unfortunately, her cooking randomly catching fire wasn’t an irregular occurrence.

“I need to head into the office anyway,” I smiled at the blurry image of both of my mums struggling to maintain the call while attempting to turn off the smoke alarm, “I love you.”

“We love you!” They yelled in unison before I ended the call.

I chuckled to myself, pocketing my phone, and ignoring the racing heart behind my ribs as I forced myself out the front door.

However, my mums’ reminder was a good one. Jacqueline was definitely what I would refer to as shy, unless of course, she thought she needed to step in and fulfill her duties as human resources. Then, she squared her shoulders and wouldn’t hold back giving employees a piece of her mind.

Maybe I was still under the spell created by her reciprocated lust, but I was able to view all those times she gave me grief in the office with a new light.

A light that didn’t make me feel guilty or problematic.

Sexual frustration was a real thing, one that I had been experiencing myself for the last few months.

I could only imagine how frustrated she’d been feeling around me, especially while knowing thatIhad been the only one to make her orgasm. I understood just how needy she had been feeling this whole time. Because I was the first partner to help her reach her pleasure.

That was why she looked so surprised every time she came that night. Shegenuinelywas. The realization was shocking since it felt like she was so responsive to me. I had just assumed Jacqueline was a woman who had no difficulty getting off.

And getting off again.

And again.

This is how I knew I identified as a man because something primal filled my lungs at the knowledge that I was unique to Jacqueline in this way. Something borderline barbaric, that made me eager to see if I could continue to prove this phenomenon true for her.

Something that made me want to see that wide-eyed, shocked, and euphoric expression coat her features as much as humanly possible.

But, as I straddled my bike and took off towards Sun Steer, I knew I needed to cool it. There was a very good chance that Jacqueline wouldn’t want me in that way again, and even though I would respect her boundaries if that was the case, I really hoped she would.

* * *

The next day,I could feel burnout approaching me.

No amount of caffeine was helping me stay focused. Adderall had some side effects, and it was affecting my depressive state more than it had in the past, so instead I relied on caffeine to maintain what I needed to get done every day. Sure, my heart would probably end up failing me in my fifties or so, but at least I could say that I had lived a full life until that happened.

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