Doubling Down on Sexual Indiscretion
A tutorial on bad decision making
Every once in a while you have to ask yourself, “Am I a bad person?” Only your conscience can answer that, if you have one.
Driving home after work last night, that question may or may not have popped up in my conscience a time or two. It wasn’t a regular drive home this time, it was twenty minutes of intense mulling over years of harmless workplace flirting that finally manifested itself.
I can’t say I felt bad about what had just taken place in the back seat of my virgin car, but I can say that I wondered if he felt bad. I have nothing lose, he has everything to lose.
After returning home and showering off my indiscretions, I flipped open Twitter to see what mindless distractions might be floating through my timeline, and that’s when it glared me in the face.
The headline: Making A Mess At Work — Workplace Relationships Can Poison an Office.
I’d love to say I’m joking about that being the first thing I saw, but instead I wondered if it was karma coming to deliver a swift punch in the face.
I guess I’m a liar. I recently wrote about harmless hugging with a coworker but as last night proved, it hasn’t been so harmless after all. Aside from the platonic work contact we’ve both been enjoying for a long while, it seems that plenty of invisible sexual tension was buried in those hugs.
Near the end of our work night I was alone in my department, doing my usual end-of-day paperwork. He would have been in his own side of the building doing the same. It’s common for him to come over to my side and commiserate about work before we leave the building together and go our separate ways.
Last night when he came around the corner to where I was standing, in one swift move he pinned me up against the wall and held me there for a moment. His forcefulness surprised me, but it didn’t rattle me. I just looked him in the eyes with a devilish grin and said, “The night cleaners will be here any second, you better move.”
This was the first time he had ever boldly crossed a line, and I didn’t hate it at all. I had no idea where it came from so suddenly but I didn’t reject it.
We strolled out the back door from work together, just as we do every other night. But this time he followed me to my car, got into the passenger side, and I started driving.
There was no planning involved, no previous discussion. It was as if we both instinctively knew that this was the night our platonic work friendship was about to make a major plot twist.
He directed me to a dark alleyway nearby, and I parked the car.
Like feral teenagers, we jack-hammered out years of sexual tension in the back seat in that dark alley. And it felt fucking good. Hardly any words were spoken, we just followed carnal instinct all the way through to hot, sweaty completion.
When the deed was done and we both grappled with getting our pants back on, I looked over at him. The expression on his face wasn’t one of a man who just got laid, it was a little calmer than it should have been after what just took place.
I asked him if he was okay and he answered positively but I suspect the pressure of where he needed to be in that moment was weighing on him. He was supposed to be at home with his wife.
Then he asked me to take him back to work so he could use the shower facilities before going home. I agreed. Indeed that’s what he should do.
I dropped him off and went home to my own shower. My mind raced the entire time. Should I text him? Should I wait until we see each other the next day?
I decided to leave it up to him whether we spoke of it or not. He has a lot more emotion to deal with than I do in this situation.
About an hour after I got home he sent me a text that read, “So. That just happened.”
I replied, “Yea. That definitely happened. Everything okay on your end though?”
Aside from the fact that I just got nailed really fucking well by a man I adore, I felt compassion for him. I wondered if he regretted his choice, and I wondered if he felt bad going home to his sleeping wife.
He replied again, “Everything is A-ok.”
“Good, because I was bracing for awkwardness.”
“No more awkwardness than usual.”
I can only guess he was referring to the awkwardness of hiding physical attraction toward me all this time.
I’m a single woman and I have my own liberal boundaries around the fact that I’m single. Never have I considered having sex with a married man nor have I been presented with the opportunity before. At least, not that I know of. If I have slept with a married man in the past, I wasn’t aware of it.
This time I knew it going in, yet I didn’t even challenge it. I could have chosen to be a better friend and ask him if he was prepared for the potential ramifications of his decision. But instead, I just went with it.
Does this make me a bad person? I basically doubled down on indiscretion and had sex with a married coworker.
My body temperature steadily rose while writing this because I’m still turned on over what took place. But I’m also nervous about getting to work and seeing him later. This feels like unfinished business but not knowing which way the business deal went.
The question is, did we just open Pandora’s box or did we slam it shut and lock it?
I’m undecided on what it meant for me but I will know at first glance what it meant for him when I see him. Right now I’m rooting for him making better choices, should the situation arise again.
But then again, maybe I’m not.
Just in case you missed the story that lead up to this one:
Here’s the continuation of this story:
