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spasms had taken control, the contractions sucking my very seed.
    I watched Joanne get dressed to go back to
the office. First the lacy underwear, then snapping the clips onto her
stockings. I’d never seen a woman do that, it was incredibly erotic, even
though she was putting them on instead of taking them off.
    “Do you always dress like that at work?” I asked,
truly interested.
    “Not always.”
    “But sometimes?”
    Joanne looked over at me.  I was still naked, lying
on the crisp white sheets. I needed to cool down, but the sight of Joanne, in
just her underwear, threatened to overwhelm the air conditioning. “Sometimes,”
she said.
    “How do you decide? What days to dress like that?”
    She finished with her stockings and put on her bra,
then took her purse into the bathroom. She left the door open, and I watched as
she started to apply some makeup. Without looking at me she said, “I wore that
outfit  today because I knew I was going to see you.”
    “I’m flattered.”
    She gave me a quick glance, her hand poised over her
face, holding her lipstick. “Some days I don’t wear any underwear at all.”
    Making me feel good, then putting me in my place, or
at least, making clear where I stood. Or didn’t.
    “For someone else?” I couldn’t help but asking.
Normally I wouldn’t really care if a woman was fucking someone else. Not at the
beginning. Later, yes. I didn’t like to share. I hadn’t been in a situation
where I wouldn’t win, where the woman wouldn’t abandon whoever else she had
been with.
    Joanne moved on to another part of her makeup
routine. “Sometimes for you. If I know I might see you in the office. That time
at the party, I was so wet after just talking to you, my panties were soaked.
It’s pretty uncomfortable, you know, walking around in wet panties. Another
thing guys don’t have to deal with.”
    I noticed that she had deftly avoided answering me
directly, again deflecting my question about other lovers by saying she dressed
up—or didn’t—just for me. It was none of my business anyway. She hadn’t asked a
word about other women in my life.
    “I like your hair up like that,” I said. I could
pretend I didn’t care, just as she could.
    “I didn’t want you to mess it up,” she replied. “I
can’t be going back to the office with just fucked hair, could I? That’s why I
didn’t wear much makeup this morning.” She snapped her purse shut. “And I’m not
putting much on now, just fixing what you smeared. Otherwise someone will
notice.”
    “Someone would notice that? Just having a little
more makeup on?”
    Joanne came out of the bathroom and stood next to
the bed. “Only the women. You’d be amazed at what women notice.” She bent over
and gave me a light kiss on the cheek. “I noticed you staring at Julie.”
    Julie was one of the other women in the office. She
was beautiful, not in the exotic way that Joanne was, but more of the Midwest
blonde girl, but one who had grown up, piercing blue eyes, incredibly long
legs, outgoing and friendly. And very married.
    “You’re just guessing that,” I said. “She’s
obviously good looking, most of the guys must check her out. So you don’t get
any credit for guessing I look at her. If you had picked someone less obvious,
someone not so beautiful, I’d be more impressed.”
    “So Julie is beautiful?” Joanne gave me a fake pout.
“Then what am I?”
    I swung up to sit on the bed facing her. “It’s
beneath you to fish for a compliment,” I said, handing Joanne her blouse.
    “Put it on me,” she said.
    I stood up and did as she asked, slipping my arms
around her, our faces almost touching, her scent now familiar, yet now
different, mixed with the musk of our lovemaking.
    “Don’t mess up my makeup,” she warned.
    “You have more,” I muttered, wanting her again.
    “But I don’t have any more time. Some of us are on
the clock, remember? Now button me up.”
    Reluctantly I worked the buttons, but