I work at a large mutual-fund company and am currently assigned to the client-services desk.

One Friday a couple of weeks ago, a woman named Erin, who’s seven years older than I, came in with questions about the assets she now held following her recent divorce. I’d brought her accounts up on the computer and had started answering her questions when she began to cry. Trying to be sensitive, I asked if she might prefer to move to a more private office. She nodded, and I walked her back to an empty cubicle and got her a box of tissues and a cup of water. She pulled herself together, and we continued going over her investments. I had to take a phone call, after which she began telling me a little bit about her painful divorce. Then she started really sobbing. I wanted to comfort her, so I reached across the desk and put my hand on hers. I assured her everything would be all right.

When we were done she thanked me for my help, then invited me to come to her house for dinner that night. I said it wouldn’t be appropriate for me to accept her invitation and that my company actually has a policy against such goings on. But she looked into my eyes and insisted, saying she just wanted to return my kindness in some way, and that having the opportunity to do so would make her feel much better.

Though still uncomfortable, I didn’t want to insult her. After all, she was just trying to be nice. “Okay.” I said. “Tonight would be fine.”

Some hours later I walked over to Erin’s house and brought along a bottle of wine, which we promptly opened. Erin asked me to carry in some wood from outside and start a fire in the fireplace while she finished preparing dinner. On my way in with the last batch of logs, I stepped in a gully next to the driveway and sank in an icy puddle about a foot deep. I told Erin what had happened as I took off my slush-filled shoes at the door. She offered to put my socks in the dryer, and I rolled up my pant legs so as not to dirty the carpet. Since I hardly knew her, I felt a little uncomfortable walking around her house barefoot. But with the good conversation, the heat of the fire, the weekend ahead, and a couple of glasses of wine, I soon began to relax.

Erin served a delicious meal. As we ate she told me more about her nasty divorce. She seemed more comfortable talking about it now. I mostly just listened, occasionally reassuring her.

After dinner Erin turned out the living-room lights. We stretched out on the floor in front of the fire. “So,” she said, “such a kind, handsome young guy, and you don’t have a girlfriend?” I began to tell her about how I had lived with this girl for three years and that last month I discovered she had been cheating on me. I felt a surge of emotion, found myself trembling and fighting back tears. Erin put her hand on my shoulder. “It’s okay, Tony,” she whispered, “you can tell me about it.” I shook my head and tried to compose myself. I wanted to leave, but I couldn’t even stand up. I felt that I could tell her about it and that she would understand, so I did.

After a few minutes I finally calmed down and realized that Erin had placed one hand under my shirt and was rubbing my back, while running the fingers of her other hand through my hair. She rubbed my feet and toes with her toes. My face was planted between her breasts. My cock had become rock-hard, as my body wanted to remedy a long period of sexual frustration. I placed my hands on Erin’s cheeks and looked deep into her eyes. “I think maybe I should go,” I stuttered.

“No you don’t,” she replied. “I think you should kiss me instead.”

Our lips met, our tongues touched. Neither of us had had sex in quite a long time, it seemed, so we very quickly pulled each other’s clothes off. My head was spinning as we frantically explored each other’s body with fingers and tongues. We were both naked and all over each other, right there on the living-room floor. When Erin got between my legs and took my cock in her mouth, I warned her I wouldn’t last long. I thrust in and out of her mouth fast for about ten seconds, then screamed in ecstasy as I filled her mouth with thick cream. Erin couldn’t swallow it as fast as I was gushing, so I made quite a sticky mess of the carpet and myself. When I was finished I immediately dove tongue-first into Erin’s wet snatch and worked her over until she came in wave after wave of pleasure.

Then she led me upstairs to her bedroom. By the time we slipped between the sheets I was ripe and ready for more. Erin wanted me inside her, and that was just where I wanted to be. She was still plenty wet, so I slid in with ease. I humped her slowly at first, taking the time to enjoy licking her breasts, neck, and ears. Erin let her fingers rove all over my body. It felt absolutely fantastic. I fucked her as hard as I could until we both reached a wild simultaneous climax. At that point we were both physically and emotionally spent.

We awoke the next morning with our arms and legs wrapped around each other. Since the weather was gray and cold, we stayed in bed all morning, just cuddling and talking. What a fantastic woman she was.

By noon I was starting to absorb the reality of what had happened. I told Erin that my job and career were in jeopardy if anyone at the office found out what I had done with her, but that I had no regrets. Still, I needed some time to sort things out. I promised to call her later in the day. On the way home I stopped in the park and climbed a hill to sit and contemplate things. I am generally a pretty guarded person, so I couldn’t believe that 25 hours earlier I’d hardly known Erin. I was really confused.

Now, two weeks after our first encounter, I’ve decided to call Erin and ask her out for dinner. My heart races just at the sound of her voice on the phone. She is a very special woman, and I’m thrilled to have the chance to be with her.