Coworker Complications Pt. 03

Sunday.

Ryan sat on his thrift-store couch, the morning light filtering through the grimy window, casting faint streaks across the trashed apartment. Empty beer cans littered the table, the Solo cup still lay tipped over, and the air hung heavy with the stale musk of last night's debauchery. He slumped forward, elbows on his knees, hands raking through his short brown hair, simmering in a bitter stew of guilt and jealousy. The clock ticked past 9:30 a.m., and his mind churned over the mess he'd made--Carson, the blackmail, the web he was forced to spin, it all spiraling into a night where his douchebag coworkers got almost everything he'd ever dreamed of. A few hours in her orbit, and they'd seen her naked, gotten blowjobs, watched her pose in every filthy way imaginable leaving no square inch to the imagination. Those pricks didn't deserve it, didn't earn it, and he hated them for it, hated himself more for letting it happen, for causing it to happen.

The bedroom door creaked open, and Megan shuffled out, her bare feet scuffing the carpet. She looked wrecked--hungover, her blonde hair a tangled nest, her plaid pajama pants sagging low, the baggy T-shirt swallowing her petite frame. Her face was a mess, crusted cum flaking on her cheeks and chin, a stark reminder of the night's end she hadn't washed off. Ryan's heart raced, a jolt of shock and twisted arousal hitting him, but he kept his mouth shut, eyes darting away as she rubbed her temples and flopped onto the couch beside him.

"Ugh, my head," she groaned, voice raspy, squinting against the light. "Last night's a blur. I remember most of it--truth or dare, the dares, all that--but the last part's just bits and pieces. Like, flashes." She paused, then jolted upright, eyes wide with sudden panic. "Wait, did you see the last part? Did you see me, like, you know, at all?"

Ryan's pulse spiked, the glimpse of her on her knees, only her naked back exposed to him--sucking their dicks--flashing behind his eyes, but no memory of any of the forbidden treasures he sought. He shook his head fast, voice steady. "No, Megs, I didn't. Kept my eyes covered, and I stayed out 'til they texted me back in. We're good."

She exhaled, slumping back, relief washing over her. "Okay, good. Thank God. To go through all of that, trying to make it all better for us, only for it to ruin everything," She rubbed her face, flakes of dried cum crumbling unnoticed, and her tone softened, reflective. "So, how was it for you, was it... hot? Do you want our night to get here even faster? I remember you had a boner, I have never seen you with one, other than that infamous night in the car back in high school."

He swallowed, the truth and the charade tangling in his throat. He had to keep it going, keep Carson's leash from tightening, but looking past Carson's evil trap, and even the torture of the event, it was, for some reason, hot. She was sexy--beyond his wildest, forbidden dreams, a vision he couldn't touch. "Yeah, I don't want to, you know, sound disrespectful, but I would really like for the day to come quick; it NEEDS to," he admitted, voice low, in honest desperation. Slightly disarmed by his honest revaluation, "And...everything that happened last night, it was all beyond my wildest imagination. You were unreal, Megs, just...." Ryan's frustration began to return as the visions of her grand display of raw sexuality, were replaced by the images of those pricks' smug faces, and also, well... their pricks. Those fucking douchebags.... With careful restraint, Ryan squeezed out, "It being for them, it's not ideal, you know?"

Her lips curved, a tired but pleased smile breaking through the hangover. "Ya, maybe it looked like it was for them, but it was for you. Plus, it was kinda fun, honestly. A little too degrading, but I liked it, knowing how much it was doing for you. Plus, I mean, we don't get out much, and you heard them, those types of games usually get a lot more wild, apparently." She trailed off, picking at her pajama hem, her brow furrowing. "Of course, I'd rather be sexy for you some other way, you know? Not just them using me like I'm a piece of meat. I just want to get to where it is us, with no more rules, we need to turn the clock and be waking up on our wedding day, wouldn't that be nice. Eleven more months."

Ryan nodded, guilt slicing deeper. "Yeah, we'll get there. God, we should just elope," he said, the words slipping out, reckless and raw. Megan started to lean into him, but at his last syllable, she pulled back sharply--not breaking the embrace, just enough to let him see the scowl twisting her face.

"And what, have our parents lose it, cut us off, ignore us for years?" she snapped, heat flaring in her voice. "Student loans already suck--imagine paying it all ourselves. Don't even go there, Ry. The night's ours, but the wedding? That's their show--250 guests, only 20 ours." Her tone softened as she caught the regret in his eyes, a faint smirk tugging her lips. "Though maybe we sneak in three extra plates--for you-know-who."

Ryan backpedaled fast. "I didn't mean it, Megs--just a dumb fantasy. What I'm saying is I have always needed that night, after least night, I really need it. I can't have it now, but I want it, bad. Now, more than ever, I really want it," A heavy pause hung as she soaked in his longing, her eyes locked on his. "For me," he added, voice low, aching, with regret soon following.

Megan slipped from his arms, turning to fuss with her hair, a delicate shield. Ryan's gut twisted--he'd let too much spill, raw feelings he'd sworn to bury deep, or risk unraveling everything: the night he'd chased for nearly a decade, now a gift for his enemies if she saw through him. She spun back, words already tumbling out, sharp and probing. "If this is about last night, it was for you, Ry. I checked with you on every dare. You had a boner! So what's this? Are you happy it happened, or regretting it? Wanting our night sooner because I turned you on, or because you're jealous it wasn't you?"

Her clarity hit like a slap, rare and dead-on, and Ryan recoiled. He couldn't dodge this--she'd smell the lie if he faltered. No more cracks; he had to seal it shut. Hands on her shoulders, he closed the gap, voice steady as stone. "I love you, and I loved last night. I wanted it to happen just the way it did. I am not jealous, I am excited to see how devoted you are to me, and all you are seeing is my nerves because, well, I haven't ever seen this kind of stuff before. You have shown me a new side that I hope was there, and know I now; it just makes me want the night to come even faster, but all that means is the night is going to be even better when it gets here. We have 11 months, let's do it, together until then, and forever after."

Megan's frown melted, a slow smile blooming as his words sank in. Ryan cringed inside, the lie locking in his fate, finally accepted as absolute. There is no escape now.

By 10:15 a.m., they'd showered--separately, of course--and headed out for groceries, the corner store a five-minute walk. Megan wore a fresh skirt, light gray and knee-length, paired with a loose sweater, her hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Ryan carried an empty reusable bag, the normalcy of the errand a thin shield against his brooding. They grabbed bread, milk, and some cheap pasta, chatting about nothing--work schedules, a leaky faucet Big Jake still hadn't fixed--until the apartment building loomed on their return, the front door in sight.

Tyrone was there, a hulking shadow by the entrance, pissing on the glass in a steady arc, his tattered coat flapping as he muttered a disjointed rap. "Yo, pissin' on the world, king of the street, fuck the rules, I'm the beat," he slurred, his voice gravelly and off-key. The stream splattered, pooling on the stoop, and he turned mid-flow as Ryan and Megan approached and made eye-contact with the the giant, unwashed, homeless cock. Spraying a final arc before he tucked it away, clearly not worrying about it dripping into his already soiled pants. He noticed them, as well as the direction of Megan's gaze.

"Well, shit, blondie's back, my favorite slut on the block" he said, shambling toward her, his stench hitting like a wall. "Let me guess, butt grab today?"

Megan sighed, her shoulders slumping, no fight left after yesterday's ordeal. She glanced at Ryan, her expression resigned but curious, and he nodded stiffly, the charade a reflex now. "Yeah, please no slap," she muttered, setting her grocery bag down. Tyrone licked his lips, stepping closer. "Turn around, stick that sweet ass out a bit," he instructed, and she complied, pivoting slowly, bending ever so slightly at the waist.

Ryan's stomach dropped as Tyrone's hand reached up, still glistening wet--presumably from his public urination scene, the sheen catching the light as it disappeared under her skirt. His thick fingers clamped onto her ass, kneading for a full ten seconds, way longer than before, his knuckles flexing under the fabric. The skirt shrouding what was taking place beneath. Megan stood still, submissive and silent, until a sudden yelp broke free, and she lurched forward, grabbing her bag and bolting to the wet entrance door as Ryan and Tyrone soaked in the glimpses of her ass offered by her careless escape. "Come on, Ryan!" she called, yanking the door open, her voice sounding a bit spooked.

Tyrone chuckled, adjusting his pants, his tented crotch bulging. "Finally a thong, you did good girl," he rasped. "And the pussy's wet, just how I like it. Happy to know you also look forward to our run-ins."

Ryan's blood boiled, the implication clear--Tyrone's hand hadn't just grazed her over the underwear; he'd touched her bare pussy, skin on skin, wet with probably his piss and God knows what else. Ryan followed Megan inside, the door swinging shut behind them, Tyrone's cackle fading as they hit the stairs. She climbed fast, her skirt still swishing with Ryan trying to avert his eyes. Halfway up, she broke the silence, her voice trembling but loud.

"His hand was wet before he even got to my pussy," she said, stopping on a landing, her face twisting in disgust. "Like, I felt it on my thigh first, all slimy, I am not that wet--oh my God, it was piss, wasn't it? Eww, that's so gross!" She gagged, wiping her hands on her sweater like it'd help, her nose scrunching. "Ugh, I can still feel it. So nasty!"

Ryan's heart sank, guilt crashing over him like a wave. This was his fault--the web was spreading to all their social interactions, letting creeps like Tyrone and his coworkers turn her into their plaything, even her patients. "Jesus, let's just get in the door," he managed, voice hollow, his jealousy simmering beneath the shame. She didn't deserve this, not the indignation, not the groping, not any of it.

She turned to him, still grimacing, but her eyes softened, searching his. "That didn't take away from anything, did it? I was trying to let him play a little longer for you. I just wish I had realized earlier. I mean, it's so disgusting, I feel like a mess."

He froze, her question a trap he'd built himself. Without thinking, he doubled down. He couldn't let his failures as a man, with Kendall the damn paralegal bimbo, cause distress to his beloved, the words came spilling out before he could stop them. "Yeah, Megs, it was actually kinda hot." His voice cracked slightly, but he pushed through to soothe her stress, the lie a lifeline he felt was owed, but he wasn't certain on her actually buying this one.

Her face brightened, confusion shifting to a hungover grin. "Hot? Really? How's that hot?" she asked, leaning against the railing, genuinely curious and wanting to learn more on how to please Ryan.

Ryan scrambled, his mind racing for an explanation, anything to keep the charade alive. "It's, uh, the way you handle it," he said, grasping at straws. "Like, you're so tough, putting up with that creep, and it's kinda raw, you know? Him, as gross as he is, touching you like that out in the open, allowing it for me, wet and all--it's dirty, but that's what makes it sexy. Shows how even a disgusting homeless man doesn't stop you from trying to please me. You turned something gross into something... more." He cringed inwardly, the bullshit piling up wondering how much higher the pile will go. Her eyes lit up, buying it whole.

"Wow, okay," she said, nodding slowly, her grin widening. "That's kinda cool, I guess. Like, I'm tough and sexy, even with some hobos dirty hands grabbing at my pussy? Didn't think of it that way." She laughed, a little giddy, and started climbing again, her step lighter. "You're weird, Ry, but I like it if you do." With the return of her confidence, she couldn't help but add a little tease and a test, "Even if he was starting wiggle his dirty fingers in to my, your future pussy?"

The rare direct flirt, and the ever increasing use of words like pussy, his pussy. His future pussy, by the third time he ran those words through his head, he was hard as a rock, which was quickly noticed, bringing even more joy and confidence into Megan's face. But, just his luck, she was associating it with the act as a whole rather than the three important words used, "Your future pussy."

He forced a chuckle as she smirked at his crotch then moving forward with a lighter pace. Trailing her to the third floor, the grocery bag heavy in his hand. They pushed into the apartment, the mess from last night still sprawled out, and unpacked in silence, her humming softly as she shelved the pasta. Ryan watched her, the cum still crusted on her face, Tyrone's wet touch replaying alongside Carson's groans, and his jealousy burned hotter. She was his, "his future pussy," just not yet his, a paradox he'd created, and he hated how it began twisting his life--hated how part of him, buried deep, found it exciting despite the wreckage.

Half an hour later, Ryan leaned against the counter, the grocery bags half-unpacked, still waiting for Megan to bolt to the shower. After Tyrone's wet grope, he figured it would be the first thing she would do, scrubbing that homeless creep's touch off her skin like it was toxic. But she didn't move. She stood there, humming faintly, shelving the pasta, her gray skirt still swishing from the stairs, her face still faintly crusted with last night's cum. His stomach churned, the silence stretching, and he couldn't hold it in.

"Aren't you gonna shower?" he asked, voice tight, trying to sound casual. "You know, after Tyrone?"

Megan paused, a can of soup in hand, and turned to him, her hungover grin lazy but steady. "Well, if you think it's sexy, then I do too," she said, shrugging like it was obvious. "Don't wanna end the fun early, right?" She popped the can onto the shelf, oblivious to his flinch, and kept unpacking.

Ryan's chest tightened, the weight of his lie crashing down harder. She wasn't grossed out anymore--she'd bought his bullshit hook, line, and sinker, turning Tyrone's filth into some twisted game for him. The time to come clean has come and gone. He had to keep owning it, no matter how it gnawed at him. "Yeah, cool," he muttered, forcing a smile, his jealousy simmering beneath the guilt.

She stretched, yawning, and flopped onto the couch, kicking her bare feet up. "God, I'm dreading work tomorrow," she said, rubbing her temples. "Kevin's gonna stick me with Marvin again, I bet. More baths, more splashing, more touching. Ugh." She groaned, but her tone was light, resigned, the weekend's wildness still buzzing under her skin.

"Let's clean this up," Ryan said, nodding at the mess--cans, cups, the faint stench of beer and cum clinging to the room. He grabbed a trash bag, desperate for something to do, and Megan joined in, picking up empties with sluggish hands. She snagged the red Solo cup from the table, the one she'd drunk Carson's cum from last night, and held it up, sniffing it with a wrinkled nose.

"Oh, I know what this is," she said, then grinned at him, playful and teasing. "Remember?" She tipped it to her lips, a mock sip, and Ryan's gut lurched. Then her eyes widened as a small remnant of cum--now thin and clear--slid from the cup's edge into her mouth. She swallowed reflexively, a quick gulp, and he froze, horror spiking through him as her tongue darted out to lick her lips.

"Wow, I guess I missed some," she said, blinking, setting the cup down like it was no big deal. "Didn't expect that. Doesn't taste that bad, though. Kinda forgot from last night, but now I'll remember." She laughed, light and unbothered, and turned back to the trash, humming again, leaving Ryan rooted, his heart racing, the image of her swallowing burned into his skull.

Her phone buzzed on the counter, and she scooped it up, squinting at the screen. "Oh, it's Carson," she said, tapping it open. "He sent the video. Wants me to look it over and approve." She shuffled to the far side of the room, facing Ryan, the back of her phone to him, and hit play. He watched her from the corner of his eye, her face flickering through expressions--horror at first, brows shooting up, then surprise, her mouth parting slightly, followed by awe, her eyes widening, and something like lust, a faint flush creeping up her neck. She chewed her lip, engrossed, the faint sound of moans and grunts leaking from the speaker, too low for him to catch details.

Nearly 15 minutes later, it ended. Pocketing the phone, her voice casual but tinged with something deeper. "That was intense, whew. My heart is beating fast. It's edited, like he said. You can't see my tits or pussy or anything--just blurry spots there. But, uh, all the cocks are still in it, clear as day. Pretty wild how they cleaned it up from what was probably a shaky mess." She shrugged, brushing it off, and grabbed another can to toss.

Ryan nodded, mute, his curiosity clawing at him. He wanted to see it, to know exactly what they'd done while he was out, but naturally didn't want to jump at the opportunity out of embarrassment. She glanced at him, frowning slightly. "He told me to text it to you after I checked it," she said, pulling her phone back out. "Here." She forwarded it, the buzz hitting his pocket, and leaned against the counter, watching him. "You gonna check it out?"

He hesitated, the weight of her stare pressing in. "Uh, maybe later," he said, shrugging, trying to play it cool not really knowing what he was to do, but her frown deepened, confusion creasing her brow.

"I thought you wanted it," she said, tilting her head. "You're not interested?"

Panic flared--he'd misstepped. She'd been told he craved this, even by him, and dodging it now would bring back suspicion. "No, I do, I was trying not to seem, you know, like a pervert," he backtracked, forcing a grin, pulling his phone out. "Let's watch it now. Been dying to see it." His voice sounded hollow, but she perked up, nodding, her trust intact.

"Cool," she said, stepping closer but not too close, keeping her distance as he hit play. The screen flickered to life, a surprisingly stable iPhone clip smoothed out with rough but precise edits. It started mid-dare--her dancing, the skirt flaring, precise blurry patches over her crotch as she flashed, the guys' cheers loud and raw. Then the spanks, her ass bent over Carson's lap, the skirt up, red handprints blooming, her pussy and tits obscured but their cocks dangling free, half-hard. Ryan started getting an erection imagining what laid beneath the censored patches, which Megan was looking for. As soon as she saw evidence she squirmed with delight. She felt confident enough to usher him into his little room to finish watching it alone so he can enjoy it better. "Go, go, do what you need to do, babe."

Defeated, Ryan closed the door and laid back on his bed. He had no intentions of jerking off when he resumed the video, but there she was on her knees, naked, the blur covering her nipples and the little you could see of her pussy from the POV angle, but Carson's nine inches slid into her uncensored mouth, JP's ten-inch black cock in one hand, Cory's thick nine in the other. She jerked them off, swapping between sucking each one, their groans filling the audio. He was watching raunchy porn of his own fiancée and he wasn't one of the stars. Her eagerly sucking dick, like she's done it a thousand times, shocked Ryan enough to send his hand unconsciously to his pants with a load zip. Loud enough to bring a proud smile to Megan's face as she leaned, listening, against his door. His eyes watch in awe as cum splattering into her open mouth, pooling on her tongue as she posed for the cameras, sexy and sloppy, just her mouth in frame. The video zoomed out right when a fat glob of cum escaped from the corner of her mouth as she moved into more humiliating poses for their pictures. Ryan watched her collect the spill from her abdomen with her fingers and then roughly massaging it into her clit. Her eyes rolled back into her head while savoring the taste of the massive load in her mouth and the dirty feeling of the cum rubbing into her clit. This was enough to cause Ryan to lose control, with a rare grunt. Cum came splattering back down onto his clothes that he neglected to remove since he doubted an outcome like this was possible.