Lauren looked around the cosy living room, the warmth from the open fire making her feel a little drowsy. Outside the wind and rain lashed the windows and she shivered at the thought of walking through the winter evening to her car.

To her left the door opened and Peter walked in carrying a box file. ‘This is the last one,’ he said, placing it on the table. ‘Don’t worry, it’s not full.’

They had been working together on his company’s accounts for a couple of weeks, but up until today they had always worked in his office. She wasn’t sure why she had agreed to come to his house, she told herself that it was to facilitate him not having to bring the last of the paperwork into the office, but deep down she thought it was because she was excited by his company. She would never admit that to herself of course being a married woman and there was no way she would act upon it, she felt guilty enough just having come to his house. She wasn’t completely sure if Peter liked her in that way, she didn’t always have the best eye for when men thought she was attractive. Being brought up in a large house in a tiny village in the middle of the English countryside hadn’t really prepared her for meeting boys and dating, and given that she had married the first boy she’d kissed at her private school, her dating record over her 25 years was very short.

Peter sat next to her on the couch and opened the file - Lauren stifled a yawn.

‘We can leave this last one until next week’’ Peter said, looking over at her.

‘No, we only have these to go through and we’re finished,’ she replied in her clipped accent, a cross between Emily Blunt and Keira Knightly. Peter nodded and opened the box.

Half an hour later Lauren had entered all the information into her accounts package.

‘Finished,’ she said, dutifully shutting down her laptop and softly closing the screen.

‘Finally,’ Peter said, stretching his shoulders. ‘Can I get you a drink? I have a couple of beers in the fridge. But you look more like a fine wine girl to me and I’m afraid I don’t have any of that.’

‘No thank you,’ Lauren replied, a little annoyed at his presumption.

‘Oh c’mon, I think we deserve a drink after all the work we’ve done over the last two weeks.’

Lauren sighed. ‘Fine. Just a cup of tea for me. Thank you.’

Peter rolled his eyes and smiled, standing up to leave. Lauren caught herself watching him walk out the door - there was no doubt he was attractive, but he was a little too rough around the edges for her liking, the total opposite of her husband of two years. Greg was tall and straight laced, career focused and very well spoken, his accent flat mid-counties. Peter in the other hand sometimes dropped H’s and had sworn in her presence - never at her but in the phone and when laughing with colleagues. He had tried to flirt with her during their time working together, but she had never reciprocated, cutting him off, making him focus back on their work.

The rain hit the window harder and she stood, straightened her knee length pencil skirt and walked to the window. She pulled the curtain aside and stared out into the darkness, catching her reflection in the rain spotted glass. Her face was narrow with sharp features giving her a course look, but when she smiled it reached her eyes and her face warmed up. She wore her hair pulled back into a pony tail which she wound up onto the back of her head for work and it occurred to her that it was similar to how her childhood tutor had worn her hair.

A movement in the glass made her jump, but she realised that it was just the reflection of Peter coming back into the room. She turned, smoothing her blouse.

‘One cup of tea, m’lady.’ Lauren rolled her eyes at his sarcasm and sat on the couch - he really could make her blood boil but there was something about being around him that made her excited and a little on edge.

‘I thought you were having a beer,’ she said picking up her tea. Peter smiled. ‘I didn’t think lowering my inhibitions was a good idea given that we’re working so closely together.’ Lauren shook her head at his inappropriateness - she refused to rise to his flirting.

They talked while she drank her tea, Peter sitting next to her on the couch turned to face her, one leg tucked up, his knee almost touching hers, and although she didn’t move closer she also realised that she hadn’t moved away.

‘Well, I should be going,’ Lauren said, leaning forward to put the cup on the table, the movement causing her thigh to touch Peter’s. As fast as it happened she moved away. ‘My apologies,’ she said breaking the contact. Peter flashed his eyes at her and a grin creased the corners of his mouth. ‘My pleasure.’

Lauren huffed and shook her head, trying to deny the shock of electricity she’d just experienced. She went to stand, but the heal of one of her black work shoes caught in the carpet and she stumbled slightly. Peter put out his hand to steady her, their fingers intertwining. Lauren felt her cheeks flush as she regained her balance, but she had moved closer to him and their eyes locked.

For a moment she was frozen, their faces only inches apart and as she tried to pull away Peter leaned forward, stealing a kiss. Lauren recoiled, shocked at his blatant behaviour, their eyes locked. Peter opened his mouth to apologise. ‘Sorry about that, that was inappropriate. I shouldn’t have done that.’

‘No you should not,’ Lauren replied. ‘You are fully aware that I am a married woman and I have never once given you cause to think that I was interested in you or in cheating on my husband.’ Peter nodded sadly but she continued. ‘And yet you have continued to flirt with me in the last two weeks which has made me feel very uncomfortable.’

Peter nodded again. ‘You’re right, I’m sorry. I’ve been out of line. I didn’t mean anything by it, I was just being silly. You always seem so serious and I suppose it was a bit of a challenge.’

‘What? To make me feel uncomfortable? I know I can serious but I take my job seriously. I know accounting can be dry but it is important to me.’

‘I know, I’m sorry.’

Lauren paused and looked at him. ‘Well I must say you seem suitably contrite and I accept your apology and I will consider the matter closed.’

‘Thank you,’ Peter replied.

‘Do you realise this is the longest conversation we have had that wasn’t work related?’ The pretty accountant said, realising that they were still closer than would be deemed acceptable. ‘Well I should be going. Although I can’t say I’m looking forward to walking through this wind and rain to my car.’

‘You’re welcome to wait a little longer to see if it eases off,’ Peter said, then, raising his hands he said, ‘and I promise to be good and professional.’

‘No, thank you, I really should be going.’ She stood and Peter followed, watching as she straightened her skirt and smoothed her blouse again. Now happy with her appearance she went to step around him and he moved to let her by, both going the same way. Lauren stopped, taking a step back, almost stumbling backwards again. Once more Peter reached out to stop her and she again grabbed for his hand to stop from falling but pulling him unexpectedly, causing him to lose his balance. Lauren sat back onto the couch and Peter stumbled forward, reaching for the back cushions to steady himself. Lauren looked up uncomfortable but suddenly excited by their proximity. She opened her mouth to apologise but found that no words came out.

Peter’s face was again only inches from hers but instead of pulling away she held her position, her breathing suddenly faster. Peter looked in her eyes, large and a deep brown. They were one of the things he’d first noticed about her - like a woodland deer. Her slim body and pretty face and also been a distraction for him - her long legs, always covered with a sensible skirt, her narrow hips and her pert breasts that made perfect mounds between her sensible blouses.

Lauren knew they had been too close for too long now, but she found that she couldn’t speak to ask him to move and as she stared up at his handsome face she realised he was moving closer until their lips were touching again, except this time she wasn’t pulling away, instead she was allowing him to kiss her, letting her eyes close.

Peter moved his lips overs hers, his tongue running along them, but she kept them closed. Moving one hand from the back of the couch he held the back of her neck and Laura was shocked to hear a soft moan escape her mouth into his.

Releasing her lips for a moment Peter dropped onto the couch beside her, gently pulling her to stand, sensing the turmoil inside her. Laura stood and moved in front of her colleague and watched his face as she felt his hands run up her pale thighs, lifting her tight skirt until he reached her pert buttocks, pulling her to him. Her breathing growing faster with excitement and guilt the pretty brunette allowed herself to be drawn to him, straddling his legs until she sat on his thighs, her black lace underwear just visible to him. Reaching again for her neck Peter eased her softly to him again and this time when his tongue met her lips she allowed them to part a fraction.

They kissed in silence, Laura’s breathing causing her chest to rise and fall and her heart race. Peter’s tongue explored her mouth and she gasped as it touched hers - she had only felt the tongue of one man, her husband, and the taboo of the situation was causing guilt and pleasure to rush through her. Peter’s hands left her buttocks and for a moment she thought he was about to stop their trist, relief and disappointment replacing her former emotions, until she felt them slide up her sides, over the soft material of her blouse and around to the front until they reached the top button.

‘Wait,’ she whispered. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I want to see your breasts,’ he replied.

‘But I’m wearing a bra.’

Peter smiled, ‘then I’ll take that off too.’

‘No, you mustn’t,’ she breathed, opening her eyes to look at his. ‘We have already gone too far.’ But she felt unable to move away from him and when he reached his mouth to hers again she allowed their lips to meet once more. Peter’s fingers moved to the top button of her shirt and she felt it pop open.

‘Tell me to stop and I will,’ he whispered, but she made no sound. The second button popped and he repeated his statement. As her third button released she tangled her fingers in his hair, her impromptu roughness going someway to assuage her guilt. They kissed deeply as the remaining buttons opened and Peter pulled apart Lauren’s clothing to reveal the black lace bra. She didn’t need to look down to know that her nipples were erect and her guilt at the involuntary arousal made a knot in her stomach, a sensation which only increased as she felt Peter’s hands slide up over her encased breasts. Her body trembled at the sensation, his fingers stimulating her nipples causing her to sigh into his mouth.

‘Stop,’ she whispered half heartedly, as if the request would somehow wipe the events of her infidelity, but the word was pushed between his lips as was her earlier sigh of pleasure and she was fully aware that she didn’t mean it. But still his ministrations on her firm mounds ceased until she kissed him more deeply, giving him unspoken permission to resume his touch, his fingers scissoring her stiff buds over the material until she felt his hands move leaving her with a sense of relief and regret until she realised they were moving to the back of her delicate underwear.

‘It opens at the front,’ she whispered, each word bringing about images of her wedding day two years ago, of her first time with her husband, with any man and she knew the excitement she felt in that moment was more than she had experienced even on that first night.

Lauren felt the small clasp on her bra give way under Peter’s fingers and the pressure on her breasts released. Peter broke their kiss to look.

‘Your boobs are really pretty,’ he whispered. ‘Bigger than I was expecting.’

‘Why do you feel the need to refer to my breasts like that? And, yes, I don’t feel it’s right to have them on display with bras that enhance them - especially at work. But thank you for the compliment.’

‘You’re welcome, they’re perfect.’ And he bowed his head to kiss them, but Lauren’s hands on the his face stopped him. ‘Wait.’

‘Why?’

She paused, ‘Because - I, I don’t know.’

Peter bowed his head again and she realised his face from her grasp. Peter’s lips encircled her left nipple, sucking it to an even harder bud and Lauren’s body trembled. ‘Peter, don’t,’ she sighed, but her hands held the back of his head, holding him close to her and she trembled again as his tongue flicked over the pink nub. When Lauren felt him release her she softened her hold on him to allow him to move to the other nipple, sucking and licking slowly.

She groaned, her lips pressed into his hair, and it was only then that she realised his hands had left her sides and were moving down over her pert buttocks and underneath her, his fingers finding the warmth between her legs. Almost unconsciously Lauren lifted herself slightly allowing him to move more freely and she chastised herself for her betrayal.

Peter’s fingers roamed over the sheer material of her underwear, but despite the barrier he could feel her labia and the heat there.

‘What are you doing?’ Lauren asked, her lips still pressed into the top of his head.

‘What does it feel like I’m doing?’

She gripped him tighter as he rubbed her opening over her underwear. ‘It feels like you’re touching me over my knickers,’ she replied breathlessly.

Peter’s reply was to press harder with his middle digit until the material stopped him from progressing any further. Lauren moaned at the sensation. ‘Don’t put your hands inside my knickers. I won’t allow it,’ she said, her hips making minute movements as if she were trying to increase the pressure. She felt Peter's other hand move from its place on her left buttock to the seam of her underwear where it lifted the material allowing his other fingers to slip beneath.

‘No,’ she moaned. Peter stopped, his finger only millimetres from the velvet flesh of Lauren’s labia. The exquisite agony of his fingers being so close and yet so far from her most personal area caused another involuntary movement of her hips, as if she were searching for his digits. At her movements Peter slid his fingers closer, stroking the flesh at her opening. Lauren shuddered and held him tighter as the tip of his finger slid the length of her liquesant  entrance.

‘Accountancy may be dry,’ he whispered, his mouth between the mounds of her breasts, ‘but you are not.’

Lauren bit her top lip, his teasing fingers too much to bear. She wanted him inside her, but each new action from him tore her in half, the guilt and the pleasure too much to stand. And then his mouth was moving to cover her nipples again in turn, sucking and grazing softly with his teeth, and to her surprise his hands left their place between her legs, but before the relief and regret could take hold of her he was pulling the blouse off shoulders, her bra following, leaving her shoulders and breasts exposed and naked. Lauren gasped and went to exclaim her reluctance but her words were lost as Peter moved her to the side, laying her onto the couch beside him and in one movement her stood, pulling her skirt down the length of her long legs and over her shoes until she lay before him in nothing but her underwear.

Her first thought was to cover her naked breasts, but she realised that she had gone too far, The Rubicon had been crossed and so she lay there looking up at him, awaiting his next move, all but the last vestiges of her self control gone. Her stomach rose and fell with each anxious, excited breath. She locked eyes with him, like prey staring at a predator moments before the kill, only instead of fear she felt excitement and confusion.

‘Do you plan to remove my knickers?’ she asked her voice wavering. Peter nodded.‘But,’ she began, but she knew it was no use, she was about to give herself over to him and she could only watch as he reached out slowly, taking the thin straps that wrapped around her hips and began to pull them down revealing the light covering of neat pubic hair which sat just above her labia. Dropping the discarded item onto the floor next to the rest of her clothing, Peter ran his fingers over Lauren’s small patch of soft hair. ‘I see you trim,’ he said, ‘perhaps you’re not as prim as I first thought. Lauren shook her head, ‘no, that's just me,’ she said, still fighting the urge to attempt to cover her nakedness from his gaze.

‘I like it,’ he replied. ‘Your pussy is just as pretty as your boobs.’ He smiled as she closed her eyes at his crude comment. How did he make...