Fiendish Sex Tales Page 2

  Without someone who fit the bill hanging around the idea would have been dismissed immediately. The only other person she got on with at the store was the security guard Ronald – but no... just no. Even drunk she would hold back from imagining him unclothed, let alone leaning over her thrusting and sweating.

  No she would not imagine that at all.

  Stop.

  But Ben was another matter. The more she thought about it, the more Gemma imagined that she would look back and regret not being wild this once. In addition, though Ben was not to know, her head was not completely in the clouds as to some of the dilemma and difficulties he might face. Of course he would be shy about the idea and anxious about performing, but part of her task would be to put him at ease.

  By the time she rid herself of Carter it was almost time for closing and she was fortunate to be able to speak to him before he left. Next week would be their last week working together and he would be the only thing she would miss. Hopefully he would acquiesce to something outside of work that evening if he felt the same about her, despite the imposing suggestion she had made.

  ‘Hey you, fast food or something?’ she asked.

  ‘Erm...’

  ‘Come on, I’m going to miss you after next week,’ she urged, ‘we should break bread together just once.’

  ‘I’d love to actually,’ he replied, ‘someone needs to keep an eye on you after Carter’s wound you up.’

  3

  Drifting away into a Burger King for an unhealthy bite could have been awkward, after Gemma’s forward suggestion, but they were both very much at ease. It was hard not to relax and feel more comfortable after such an uptight work environment; so much so that bizarre sexual invites failed to register as an issue. Both of them were at the age when strange sexual stories and enquiries still made their way into conversation as if they were novel ideas; every generation goes through a stage of talking more openly and liberally about sex than they would care to remember. An experiment that is probably necessary for assessing exactly where our sexual appetites lie and how ravenous or daring we like to be. Plus, both of them only spoke in the context of winding up Mzzz Carter anyway, which made any speculation acceptable.

  At first they did not address the subject much though. Ben made a joke about the food being the second best offer he’d had all day, but otherwise they got on with eating and chatting about what college life might be like. Afterwards they decided to drag out the evening a little longer by going for a drink in a nearby pub. Though Ben did not usually risk even playing with the driving limit a little, Gemma was right about the pair of them spending time in each other’s company outside of the clothes store. Why move on with their only memories of friendship belonging to a loathsome atmosphere they would probably never think on and so risk forgetting each other entirely?

  ‘I thought that knowing I was leaving would make Theresa May easier to be around,’ Gemma confessed, when finally they got round to the subject, ‘but for some reason I feel worse about it. Like I can’t bear to leave without turning the tables on her in some way.’

  ‘She’s certainly paying you a lot of attention at the moment, for someone who doesn’t like you,’ he reflected.

  ‘Exactly, it’s like she wants to make it as difficult as possible. If she hates me so much why resent me leaving?’

  ‘It’s the freedom she’s resenting,’ Ben offered, supportively.

  ‘You really think?’

  ‘Sure, that and your youth and good looks.’

  Gemma laughed. Speaking with Ben was helping her to make light of the whole Carter situation. Maybe she was being too extreme in conjuring up her revenge ideas and it was then that the distance from the workplace, with the assistance of alcohol, allowed her to address that most astonishing of brief conversations.

  ‘I’m just desperate not to let her get away with how she’s treated me,’ said Gemma. ‘It’s bordering on workplace abuse without actually being firm enough to make a complaint about her.’

  ‘She’s a master in vague speech,’ Ben agreed. ‘Loaded comments she can later claim were misinterpreted.’

  ‘Exactly, but she knows what she’s doing. The problem is, if I did something to upset her position I could be prosecuted. It got me thinking that I need to do something subtle that she can’t know for sure was me.’

  ‘Having sex in her office isn’t subtle.’

  ‘Oh, but the way I envision letting her know is. I’d take a couple of snaps of half-naked bodies, with her nameplate in the background, so she’d know for sure it had gone on in her office.’

  ‘Christ! You were planning to take pictures?’

  ‘Yes! Well I wasn’t going to invite her to watch.’

  ‘I thought you had in mind a secret kind of revenge. You know, like I’ve slept with your sister but you don’t know about it?’

  ‘Where’s the fun in that? I want her to know.’

  ‘But being in a photo that anyone could see.’

  ‘I wasn’t going to put our faces on it. I don’t care if there’s a photo of my behind somewhere that no one can know for sure is mine.’

  ‘This gets better by the minute,’ Ben said, now fighting back a fit of hysterics. ‘You’ve really thought this through.’

  ‘You bet ya! When you’re being wound up as much as I have been the mind gets very vengeful. Believe me this is mild to how I really feel, she’s lucky I’m not fantasising about stringing her up from the ceiling.’

  ‘And you chose me – well I’m flattered.’

  ‘You’re the only one there who isn’t gross or an arsehole. Oh, I’m sorry... I think you’re great I don’t mean to imply...’

  ‘Please, don’t worry about it, I’m not oversensitive.’

  ‘I just don’t want you to think...’

  ‘I said I was flattered, doesn’t mean I expect to be the man of your dreams.’

  ‘Well, OK.’

  ‘Incidentally, whoever that turns out to be might want to give me a fat lip for taking advantage of your vulnerability over this. Which is what I think you are, Gemma, as much as you’re also pretty tough as well.’

  ‘I’m vengeful is what I am.’

  ‘But I don’t think it would be appropriate. A fantasy is one thing but I suspect you would feel differently if you were actually going through with it.’

  ‘Ah, and then it would be too late. You’d be pounding me like a big brute or something and I’d be like “What was I thinking?” but I don’t think so Ben – in fact I think you’d be a perfect gentleman.’

  ‘Problem is, I’m not sure you need a perfect gentleman for this kind of plan, Gemma,’ he replied.

  Away from the store as they were, it was perhaps predictable that Ben should talk Gemma out of her idea and that she felt more inclined to agree with him, but vengeance can often be about living in the moment, as he was to find out when they returned to work the next week.

  It was their last week at the worthless place and so they attacked it with a spring in their step that was unusual, as if going about one’s task with a renewed sense of enthusiasm would somehow see its end come round more quickly. This was an illusion of course and, by the end of the day, their ability to see out the time had distorted back into the realisation that this was going to be a long week.

  At least Carter left them alone for the majority of that day and Gemma appeared to have discarded any attempts to talk him into crazy ideas, even though she had told him to let her know if he changed his mind.

  Taking that with a pinch of salt, Ben had looked upon Gemma as someone who needed a fantasy in order to see out something arduous. Believing you have someone’s comeuppance lurking in the palm of your hand – or in your loins somewhere – can be a vital tool in making losing confrontations bearable.

  Or so he thought, but Tuesday would be a different day entirely and force him to completely reconsider his interpretation of Gemma’s behaviour.

  It all began because of someone using the wrong milk in their tea and, because Gemma had committed the sin of stepping out of the kitchen with a cup, it was implied that she was the culprit. Monday had been strangely absent of the typical ill-feeling, but it turned out that Carter was not taking a backseat just because they would soon be out of her hair. She was going to use the week to make Gemma feel as uncomfortable as possible, knowing that, if Gemma was to blow up now, it would provide a satisfying final victory. It turned out, therefore, that Carter was willing to go to all kinds of extremes in order to cause upset that she might previously have considered a step too far.

  Ben instantly sensed what was going on and was prepared for one of Gemma’s hair-pulling faces, but not for the outpouring of sexual tension that, in looking to abide the torment, his colleague drew upon as a lone source of distraction.

  ‘Take me now, Ben,’ she said under her breath, walking past him on her way from suffering Carter’s instructions over in the women’s department. She was unable to linger, having been charged with wheeling in a whole load of blouses – even though she was supposed to be assisting customers in the shoe section and Ben was having to cover for her. That meant that whenever he disappeared to find a new pair of shoes their entire section was unmanned; an eventuality that was against company policy but clearly Carter did not care about practising what she preached anymore. She would have scolded and patronised any of the staff for causing such an oversight, yet there she was causing one herself just to annoy Gemma.

  Ben had given his colleague a wry smile at the ‘Take me now’ suggestion. Treating it as a private joke but without failing to note that her face remained deathly serious. In addition, as she went back and forth, at every opportunity her gaze was fixed his way as if she was indeed crying out to be ravaged.

  Suggestive stares but li
ttle conversation because of the busyness of the place continued for the rest of that day. ‘I mean it, Ben,’ she added, when they passed each other briefly before leaving for the evening, ‘I’m going to lay on all my seductive powers from tomorrow morning.’

  Just like the Friday before then, Ben thought his friend to be indulging in a revenge fantasy in order to remain sane while she was helpless to do anything else. If the whole flirtation was indeed a convenient act, however, then Gemma was clearly skilled in dramatic performance because the next day really saw matters heat up.

  Tuesday was always the busiest week day and, as the rest of the week proceeded, they would have more and more time for pleasant chitchat, whenever that was not interrupted by Carter’s hypocritical games. Especially in the afternoon when customers really started to ebb away.

  Gemma was not waiting until then to get the ball rolling, however, responding to their first moment of semi-privacy, when the doors were yet to even open, by reaching over to whisper huskily, ‘I’m wearing stockings, stud. And a wonderbra’. Turning then to hold her gaze, Ben was expecting a cheeky wink and a grin but instead saw two wide eyes and a mouth that looked like it was poised to devour him. Her bottom lip hung open as if urging him to kiss her and, if she did not turn and walk away right then, he would not have known what to do. Even when she did, Gemma didn’t just shuffle off as if about to complete another chore, instead walking suggestively as if strutting her stuff down a cat walk. For the first time then he noticed her hips and the way they swung from side to side in perfect motion.

  Had she been serious? She was wearing a skirt rather than tracksuit bottoms, which was different, and those could have been tights not stockings, but he found that he believed her nevertheless. A zip-up cardigan over her t-shirt was not the most erotic addition though, but then he would find out an hour later why she had opted for that.

  A quiet five minutes arrived, during which Ben set himself to restoring the folded jeans racks to their presentable state after a group of teenagers had ransacked them. While endeavouring to make an estimate as to how many more times he would have to fold jeans before the brain-numbing task would be behind him for good, he failed to see Gemma approach until, on looking up, he then saw her lean forward and place her elbows on the opposite side of the display table.

  ‘Hey, you terror!’ he greeted, but he was not destined to be in charge of the exchange.

  ‘Hey yourself,’ she replied, then said, ‘In case you were in any doubt, I just wanted to give you some proof.’

  Her ambiguous flirtations then stepped into a whole new territory as Gemma lifted the recently-manicured fingers of her right hand up to the zip of her cardigan and began to run it downwards. Over her bust its motion curved and kept going and then Ben saw exactly why she had chosen the zip-up option for the day, because she was not wearing a t-shirt underneath. Gemma did not need a wonderbra to impress, but had employed it nevertheless for maximum, over-the-top effect. Neither did she retreat after a subtle suggestive flash, but the fingers kept going until the soft flesh around her navel was also on display. That was not the end of her tease either; with her free hand, Gemma drew one half of her attire back, revealing one half of the generous brasserie and therefore the bulk of her right breast too as well as the cleavage. Bending forwards as she was, there was much on display and he knew her nipple can’t have been too far away from bursting out and would have done so if the undergarment had not fit to precision.

  Having opened his mouth to respond, Ben was then left dumbstruck by the reveal, which was zipped back up in one discreet flick of the wrists at the sound of footsteps approaching.

  That was when Ben really started to believe that Gemma meant it. Her intent had experienced a comedown but she was back in the zone now, having answered all the dilemmas and second-thoughts a test of will had been able to conjure. Her body was actually his to enjoy if he wanted it. Or else he could insist on being all moral about the offer, though still have to make it to the end of the week with her prancing around him on heat and in full seductive mode.

  From that moment on he could not help picture her in a different light. Knowing his colleague was hot was one thing, but witnessing her in such an available state entirely different. That cleavage would stay with him indefinitely and, knowing that he could see it again whenever no one else was looking, started to drive him to distraction. He was clumsy all of a sudden; knocking displays over and returning the wrong items of clothing to customers.

  By the way Gemma carried on it was obvious that Mr Bean moments were doing nothing to dent his appeal, however. That reveal was not the end of the enticing; over the next two days Ben would be subjected to a range of both subtle and full-on performances that reinstated, at every possible moment, what Gemma wanted of him.

  ‘When Friday afternoon’s wage count comes,’ she whispered to him a little while later. ‘I’m going to be drifting over to the Queen bitch’s office in Commando state and horny as hell.’

  If opportunities were slim then, on passing, she would softly press the tips of her fingers onto one of his shoulders; an unseen sensual reminder of her desire for him. But when no one else was around the insatiable creature returned in full. Gemma was in dominatrix mode and, on Thursday afternoon, even proved the stockings boast to him when facing away from him and bending over the cashier’s counter.

  Ben was a bag of nerves by then and something had to be done. Though having trepidation about what she would be like when he could get her alone, that was exactly what he needed. It was a flattering idea in many ways, but just not for him and the pressure was making him fraught.

  ‘Gemma, we’ve got to talk,’ he insisted once the opportunity came, inadvertently cornering her by the door to the ladies room.

  ‘Oh, Ben!’ she replied, with eyes lighting up. ‘I love it when you’re in a forceful mood.’

  ‘Look, this has to stop,’ he pleaded. ‘I’m sorry, Gemma, I’m just not your guy for this one.’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ she asked, still flicking her eyelashes teasingly. ‘You don’t like what’s on show?’

  ‘It’s not that–’

  ‘I could… show you a lot more if you like,’ she added, sticking her chest out to indicate how game she was.

  ‘Please, Gemma, I… I just couldn’t go through it; that’s the truth,’ he said, trying with all his might to relate his sincerity. ‘I’d feel like a creep and I don’t want to be that kind of man.’

  ‘Just like I said, Ben,’ she replied, smiling, ‘such a gentleman.’

  ‘Gemma, I…’

  ‘It’s alright,’ she said then, changing to a more conciliatory tone and putting her right hand to his cheek. ‘If it’s bothering you I’ll stop teasing but, just so you know, if you change your mind before this time tomorrow, I’m always available.’

  4

  Gemma was true to her word. Back to normal you could say, bidding him a cheery good morning the next day and commenting on how brilliant it was to know it was their last in the shitty place.

  The lack of sexual pressure proved to be a load off Ben’s mind and they were soon joking as if nothing out of the ordinary had passed between them. Soon they would be free and had a shared reason to feel optimistic, even as Carter continued to summon Gemma for silly chores just to wind her up. The torment would go unpunished, even though Ben tried to calm his colleague by telling her that comeuppance finds all wrong doers in the end.