A few months passed since the first time I fucked Shelly. Or she fucked me. However that goes. If not for the implied danger of fucking a screamer just three doors away from the husband she cheated on, I think I would have gotten bored of it. I still didn’t really care. If I felt strong emotion about anything it was about wanting to feel again. Emotions of any sort.

I might as well have been at work all day.

Speaking of which, around that time, Diane asked me how long it had been since I’d had sex.

“Come on, you can tell me. How long has it been? How long has it really been? Don’t give me any shit, I’ll see right through you.”

“I don’t know,” I said. Shelly had come over two nights prior with a vibrating butt plug. I could still feel the vibrating sensation in my waistline from when I fucked her doggy style while the plug was in her ass.

“What, you don’t want to tell me?” she laughed. “You haven’t had sex since the divorce, have you?”

I shrugged. “I have.”

“Uh huh. Sure you have.”

“Believe whatever you want to, Diane.”

“Well, you know where to come if you want to alleviate that problem,” she said. A smile grew slowly across the dark skin of her face. Her brown eyes twinkled. Fluorescent lights didn’t really accentuate her appeal.

I tried to smile. Show some sign of life. I had adored her before the divorce. At least I think I did. I vaguely remembered jacking off to the imagination of her naked body.

She wandered off and a few minutes later I saw her name in my inbox. She copied me on an e-mail to some group asking for an update on a project. I imagined her typing up that e-mail, her pussy pressed against the office chair. Dampening the fabric of her slacks and soaking through ever so slightly to the chair. I wanted to walk into her cube and wrap my arms around her from behind. Reach in her pants and stroke her clit. She’d moan and then grab her badge from the desk drawer and lead me into one of the locked rooms.

My attention snapped back to the computer with another e-mail notification. Corporate discounts at office supply stores. I scowled and deleted the junk.

Most everyone in the office leaves early. They get in a little late too. By four o’clock, only a handful of us ever remain unless there’s some big project and by the time the janitors come through at quarter to five, I’m usually alone. Diane popped her head in my cube at about four thirty.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure, join the fun.”

She walked in and sat down on the desk. “So, I wanted to apologize. Coming onto you that way is totally inappropriate and joking about your sex life is way past the line.”

I pushed my chair away from my chair and turned it to look at her. “I wasn’t offended. I’m a little oblivious. You have to be blunt with me sometimes. I don’t know if you really meant it but I would be interested if you were.”

She smiled and leaned toward me. “I–“

The wheel of the cleaning cart squeaked a few rows down.

Diane’s breasts jostled as she sat straight up and giggled. She put her hands over her mouth and muttered, “Oh my god.” She stood up and leaned over me to grab a pad of sticky notes. Her chest grazed over my face for a brief moment. She pulled a pen out of her pocket and scribbled. She pulled the note off and stuck it on my nose. “Be at that address at seven.”

She put the rest of the pad in my lap and walked away.

I locked my computer and walked to the bus stop. I tried to figure out the timing for the bus schedule and my route to the address she gave me. No matter how I did the math, it seemed like I would get home and then head straight out the door. On the other hand, if I went to my coffee shop and stayed there for a half hour, I’d be just a little early. I hoped they had something other than pure sugar to eat.

—

That day, five or six people haunted the coffee shop. I didn’t see Gabriel. I grabbed my coffee and some faux artisan bagels. I picked a table in a lonely corner.

Gabriel walked up before I got around to my first bite.

“Is this seat taken?” she asked.

“No, go right ahead, Gabriel.”

She sat down. She wore a pink halter top and jeans that cut off at the knees. The pink didn’t really work for her as a color but the top showed a bit of her cleavage and I felt a little uncomfortable. I shifted in my seat and tried to think of anything else. Her legs came to my perverse mind next. I sipped my coffee.

“A bit more crowded in here today,” I said.

“Yeah. I wondered if there was some sort of occasion.”

“If there is, no one bothered to tell me about it. I haven’t seen you in a week or two. Have you been alright?”

“Yes, it was my birthday and my family made a big deal about it. And, of course, they want me to take on more responsibility and since I don’t have a job, that means watching my bratty brothers and sister.”

“Happy birthday,” I said. “And sorry about the brats.”

“Thanks,” she sipped her drink.

Our conversations in those months had always been punctuated by long stretches of silence. This one felt particularly significant.

“Do you have any kids?”

“No, my ex-wife and I never got around to it.”

“You’re divorced?”

“Yeah.”

“I don’t think I could ever get divorced. I’m afraid of getting stuck in a bad marriage, you know?”

I sighed, “Yeah. Divorce can be a lot easier than the alternatives though.”

“Maybe for you, you’re a guy.”

“I’m not the one who started the divorce process, though.”

“I’m not talking about that,” she said.