Greta was the receptionist at my office, where I had worked for about 8 months. I was 22 and fresh out of school. The DC area was where it seemed like everyone in the tech industry worked, on the east coast anyway. She was a decent looking girl, short hair, cute face without wearing a lot of makeup, not much older than me, perhaps 24. She had a nice chest, often showing just enough cleavage to ignite the imagination, but not get herself branded as a slut. Her lower half was a bit of a mystery since she usually wore a conservative skirt. Her legs looked ok, but it was hard to assess her ASSets. I assumed them to at least be decent, but I never wasted a whole ton of though on the matter. We always flirted, mostly because we were among the youngest people in the office. I worked for a group of guys that did network administration and helped out with people’s desktop systems, which often left me with a few down minutes here and there a day when I could swing by the front desk and chat. However, I knew this wasn’t going anywhere, Greta was married and I wasn’t really interested in fucking with that. The pitter patter of flirting went on for months, but started to pick up late in the summer. I’d worked at this company since January, after graduating in December. I was a little put off by the escalation in our flirting, because she was married. She’d do things like visit my office and hug me around the neck from behind and press her breasts against me, spread her legs if she was facing me while wearing a skirt or touch my knee and run her hand a little too far north for platonic comfort. Don’t get me wrong, I was turned on, but her being married put me off straight away. I started avoiding Greta on a regular basis, but she often came looking for me. It was no fun to be pursued by someone whom you really couldn’t get with. I came in early; just make sure I didn’t have to see her at the front desk. My thinking was that this would be one less time having to dodge her flirting. Then it happened and I am still not sure I wasn’t rooting for it. My office mate, Pablo, came in one morning and said that Greta was on some kind of war path over her husband and she wasn’t wearing her ring. He said I should really watch my ass around her now. It was no secret that Greta and I flirted a lot and the guys in my group knew that she was ramping up the pressure on me. I spent the rest of the week avoiding Greta, but she was waiting for me on Monday morning when I came in. Now, I’d been on a dry spell for about 2 months, which just about any 22 year old guy would consider as the step before life support. I lived out in DCs western burbs with 2 friends from college. Matt was the ultimate wingman, he was waiting for his GF to graduate next year. John was just as single as I was. We often hit the bars together picking up chicks, but this was getting old fast. Living in the burbs saved a lot of money, but the social scene was a dead end. It was the same women weekend after weekend. Greta came clean about separating from husband. Apparently dude spent too much time playing some online video game and ignored her. She said that she was sorry for the tension between us, but she’s had thing for me for a while and wasn’t quite sure where things stood with her hubby. She suggested that we go for drinks later that week which went well. Our conversation had a good flow and pretty well stayed away from the sexual tension that was between us, which you couldn’t hack through with a machete. Since drinks went well we decided to go to dinner on Friday. Dinner was more of the same, we talked easily about our friends, families, shit we were doing. It was fun. It was refreshing to be with someone new. We sat chatting at the table for easily an hour after we were done. Eventually we left, I drove back to the office, so that Greta could get her car and call it a night. I pulled up by her car in the garage and was about to get out of the car, so that I could get my goodnight kiss. As I stop, she says, “hang on, I just need grab my bag and we can go”. Holy fuck, this broad was closing me right there on the spot. My cock sprang to life. I went for zero sexual excitement to a blue vein throbber in an instant. I was positively dumbfounded. Greta got back in my car with a wink and tossed her bag in the backseat. Now, sitting in the bucket seats of my red targa top Supra, my boxers were binding up a little, and my cock was asking for a lot more room. I was pretty much at my maximum arousal which was making me a little uncomfortable. I grabbed Greta by the back of the neck and pulled her close to kiss. It felt so high school, making out in the car, but who cares, there was nobody else in the parking garage at 9 at night. She immediately put her hand on my leg and it didn’t have to go far to find the bulge in my pants. I could feel the beat of my heart, in my cock. I don’t think I had ever been this turned on. Maybe it was the layoff, I don’t know. I slid my hand up her skirt and she was soaked. My car soon filled with her scent, it was heavy, musky, sexy, immensely arousing. We only made out for a couple of minutes, a wet spot had already formed on my slacks from pre-cum. I took my foot off the break and the car started to roll, which broke our kiss. I wasn’t wasting any more time.