Blast From The Past 1 (5 page)

Twenty-three… That’s how many emails I had waiting for me in my rEcore inbox by the time I finally decided to stop dillydallying and start working. Most of them were from Becky in HR, though a few were from my supervisor, Gretchen, and the most recent were the files Edgar had told me he’d be sending. I skimmed through the ones from Becky and Gretchen, and decided to give more of my attention to those from Edgar, since the others were mostly administrative matters, and his were about an actual assignment.

The way Edgar explained it, the new app we were developing sounded cool, but it wasn’t entirely unlike anything I’d ever heard of before. But, given rEcore’s reputation, I knew it had to be something special, and I was determined to read through the materials her sent me as thoroughly as I could so that I could bring my A-game to this assignment. It was best to hit the track running, I figured.

Needless to say (though I’ll say it anyway), the files Edgar sent me contained a lot of tech mumbo jumbo and weren’t the most interesting read, but I did my best to get through them. I’d spent about two hours buried in the data, screenshots, graphs, and writing, when I felt a rumbling in my stomach and realized I’d worked right through my lunch hour. It was already 1:15 p.m., and I hadn’t eaten a thing since the power bar I had with my coffee earlier that morning.

Without thinking much about it, I stood up and decided to go find something to eat. As much as I’d seen and heard about rEcore’s amenities, I knew there had to be somewhere I could find a snack—and, if I couldn’t find one on my own, I was sure I could… just ask someone.

The first person I encountered when I left my office was Tara—the girl with lots of piercings. She was walking down the hall, with a food bag, and I decided it’d make sense to ask her where I could get something similar.

“Hey Tara,” I said, not noticing the earbuds she had in her ears.

“Huh? D’you say something?” she asked, pulling one out. I could hear heavy metal buzzing near her metal jewelry.

“Yeah, sorry. I didn’t know you were listening to music,” I responded. “But, I was just wondering if there’s somewhere in the building where I can get something to eat. I ended up working straight through lunch and need to put something in my belly before I pass out.”

“No worries,” Tara said, smiling. Just then, I noticed that her tongue was pierced too. “There’s an awesome snack shop downstairs near the rec room,” she went on, lifting her bag in the air and wagging it at me. “That’s where I got this. They have a nice selection of shelf items and some pretty stellar sandwiches.”

“Thanks, Tara,” I replied, trying not to drool at the smell of bacon that trekked from her bag up my nostrils.

As soon as I got downstairs, I didn’t need to ask where the snack shop was. Almost instantly, I saw patrons—coworkers of mine, I figured—walking in and out of a room with glass doors that had two olives (made to look like eyes) painted on it. They were carrying bags similar to the one Tara had been carrying, and, as if that wasn’t indication enough, the smells that surrounded me in the hallway were making my stomach growl even louder.

I entered the snack shop and saw that there was a deli and grocery-like section with just about every quick-fix meal you could imagine. I scanned the list of sandwich options on the wall, ordered chicken salad on flatbread, and waited as a cute young guy dressed in all white made my sandwich.

After what felt like forever, I had my sandwich in hand, paid for it, and went to exit. But, just as I got to the door, I saw a small cluster of people walking my way, and, of course, amidst them was… Joe.

I ducked back into the snack shop and ran to one of the aisles.

“You need something else, honey?” the cute guy asked from behind the counter.

“Yeah,” I answered abruptly. “But, I’m cool. I’ll find it.” I had no idea what I was looking for except a safe haven. Again, I knew I’d have to confront Joe at some point—but, this was not that point. If I confronted him now, in this condition, my stomach would do more talking than I did.

I found an inconspicuous corner in the room and stood there, with my back turned to the deli, as Joe and another person entered the shop.

“Good afternoon, sir,” the cute guy said. “You’re running a little late today, huh? But, it’s all good, I’ve got your usual ready and waiting.” The clerk handed Joe a bag twice as large as mine. Joe smiled at him. “Thanks, Brian,” he said. “I actually
am
running super late. I was supposed to be on a conference call like twenty minutes ago, so you’ll have to forgive me for not sticking around and shooting the shit. I’ve gotta get up to my office and cram this down my throat before making up for lost time.”

“It’s okay, sir. I understand,” Brian said back. “But I’m still waiting to hear about that concert you went to this weekend.”

“There’s always tomorrow,” Joe said as he turned and rushed out of the shop. And, just like that, just as quickly as Joe left, so too did any hopes I had that Joe’s being there at rEcore was a random or sporadic occurrence. In that brief exchange, I learned he was a staple here, and, just like me, he had an office.

“You find what you’re looking for, honey?” Brian called back to me a moment later—and, in that instant, I was slightly offended. Why was I “honey,” while Joe was “sir?”

I grabbed a soda from the cooler and a chocolate candy bar from the shelf. “Yeah, honey, I did,” I answered back somewhat shortly, bringing my items to the register. Brian bowed his head a little as he rang up my items. He was obviously embarrassed by the way I spat “honey” back at him.

After that awkward encounter, I carefully returned to my office, making damn sure that, each time I turned a corner, Joe wasn’t standing there waiting.

“Get on the bed,” Joe hissed at me. He spoke with a powerful presence, and I couldn’t help but do as he had asked. He’d just given me the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced, and every inch of me wanted to see what he had for me next.

I slithered over to the bed, still a little shaky, both from the booze and from the way he shook me. I crawled onto the mattress, feeling the cool of the linens as I did, and turned over onto my back.

I stared up at Joe, and he stared down at me. My body twitched when I saw him raise his hand to his mouth so that he could lick the fingers that he’d just had inside me.

“Tastes good,” he said. “I think I want more.”

Joe slowly walked towards me, stopping at the food of the bed. He dropped to the floor and grabbed my ankles, pulling my body down to him. All that distance I’d crawled up the bed was now behind me, but, from the look on his face, I could tell it’d be worth it.

My legs were dangling over the edge of the bed, and Joe’s face hovered above my womanhood. He wrapped his arms around my thighs and brought his hands to my front, separating the folds of my sensitive skin with his fingers. He stuck his tongue out and leaned forward, into me, to lick me, all the while keeping his eyes fixed on mine.

I groaned the moment Joe’s tongue touched me—and, I groaned even more after he traced circles and lines across my love bud. My sexual experiences with Tommy had been very limited, and he’d always said he wasn’t “into giving head,” and, as Joe licked, sucked, and devoured me, I cursed Tommy for being so close-minded. Every woman needed—no, deserved—to experience what I was experiencing, and Tommy had been a jerk to think he was above it.

“Oh, Joe,” I cried out when he shoved a finger inside me. The feeling of his tongue on me, combined with the “come hither” motion of his digit, sent me over the top. I reached down and grabbed hold of his head as I bucked my hips upward, mashing myself against his face. My screams of pleasure were matched with his moans—not only was he good at what he did, but he was enjoying it, which only made me enjoy it all the more.

Once my body stopped trembling and my eyes rolled back into their sockets, I looked up to see Joe above me. His face was still glistening with my wetness, and he leaned down to kiss me. “It’s my turn to cum now,” he said, grabbing my thighs and lifting my drenched pussy to his lap. I smiled at him, giving him my consent, and, a moment later, I felt him plunge deep inside me.

“Fuck,” he moaned as he started to ride me. “You feel so good. I’m not going to last long.”

Something about what he said, and how he said it, gave me a rush of pride and made me feel extremely sexy. I wrapped my legs around his back and pulled him closer to me, as I’d done earlier on the couch, and squeezed my inner muscles. I’d heard about “Kegel exercises” before but never did them, not on my own or with Tommy, and, as soon as I did them, I realized what all the hype was about.

“That… feels… so… fucking… good,” Joe panted, though he could barely get the words out before he pulled back, pulled himself out of me, and shot several streams of his hot nectar all over my stomach and chest.

“I’m sorry,” he said, laughing as he recovered. “That doesn’t usually happen so quick… But, like I said, you felt so good. I just couldn’t control myself.”

“No need to apologize,” I said, watching as cock bounce and deflate as he stood up and went to get a towel from his dresser. “You were absolutely amazing, and I’m glad I could make you cum so hard.” As soon as the words came out of my mouth, I couldn’t believe I’d said them—but, rest assured, I meant them.

I’m a woman just like any other woman, and I like the idea of hours upon hours of lovemaking, but there’s also something so incredibly hot about making a man lose control of himself so quickly—and, that “something” is what I felt right then and there as Joe toweled his mess off my belly and then leaned over to kiss me on the forehead. He cleaned himself up as well before sliding into bed beside me and gently directing me to turn over so that we could spoon.

It felt wonderful to have him embrace me. His arms were strong and thick, and they made me feel safe and protected, as if he could ward off everything ugly and unwanted in the world. We didn’t talk much, but instead sighed, and each drifted off into slumber.

As my eyes closed, the thoughts I had were of how very satisfied and sexy I felt, and I wondered what the next round would be like in the morning. He’d shown me heaven in our brief encounter, and I couldn’t wait to get another glimpse of it…

But, alas, that never happened.

Once I was back in my office with my sandwich, I got back to work straightaway and ate while I continued to read the materials Edgar had sent me. I’d finally moved past the background materials and was about to run the app and check out the code when my computer pinged. There was a new message from Gretchen in my inbox.

Hope everything is going well
, the email from my supervisor read.
Sorry I haven’t been by to check on you, but it’s been a very busy day around here. That said, I’m going to get out of here a little early and wanted to know if you’d like to join me. I usually like to take new hires to lunch on their first day, but I wasn’t free this afternoon—so how about an early dinner or drinks at one of the places nearby? Let me know if you’re up for it, and, if so, I’ll stop by your office around 4. – Gigi

I took a moment to consider Gretchen’s offer before replying, and laughed a little at her signature. When she’d introduced herself to me, it was as “Gretchen Gordon,” so the “Gigi” caught me off guard, though it wasn’t a surprise, as it was a logical abbreviation, or slur of her initials.

I clicked “Reply” and started typing. Normally, I can clock about 120wpm, with ninety-eight percent accuracy, but I took a little more time with this email.

Sounds good, Gigi :) – if I can call you that
, I wrote.
I could definitely use a drink, and some food, after my first day here, and am honored by the invitation. I’ll see you at 4! – Trish

Within seconds, my computer pinged.
See you then
, Gretchen wrote back.
It’s “Gretchen” when we’re talking business in front of others, but “Gigi” the rest of the time.

For a brief moment, I envied Gretchen Gordon and her ability to be two people at the same time. Once I’d decided to be “Trish,” there was no turning back to “Patty,” so I was jealous not only that Ms. Gordon could go back on forth, but also that she felt comfortable enough doing so.

The clock on my wall read 2:34, which meant I had just over an hour, or just under an hour and a half, to get some more work done before joining Gigi for dinner. I’d already wasted too much time worrying about Joe, and was leaving early, so I wanted to make sure I put an honest day’s worth of work in.

As soon as I opened the app and ran it, I encountered one of those bugs Edgar had mentioned during our conversation and highlighted in the materials he sent me. The start screen kept looping and freezing when I clicked on “new user,” and, believe it or not, I knew exactly how to deal with the problem. It was very similar to something I’d encountered back in Cincinnati, and I’d already honed the skillset to resolve it.

I pulled up the code and searched it for a parsed programming phrase with which I was already familiar—within minutes I found it and shook my head. The phrase was only
one
character off, but that’s all it took to cause problems. I fixed the error, revisited the app, and—BAM!—just like that, the problem was gone; when I clicked on “new user,” the registration screen loaded.

If that one tiny thing had been the only thing I did all day, it would have been worth it, but I wasn’t about to stop getting those glitches just yet. I wanted to show the folks at rEcore why they hired me.

The next bug I encountered was another that Edgar had pointed out in the materials. Whenever you hit the “thumbs down” icon three times in a row, the app spontaneously shut down. This problem wouldn’t be so easy to fix, but I knew that I could do it. I pulled up the code and started searching it. I dog-eared a few potentially problematic phrases (some possibly pertaining to this problem, some possibly pertaining to others) before I eventually found the “right” error and corrected it. When I revisited the app again, the problem had been fixed, and I was ready to move on to another, but was interrupted before I could.

“Glad to see you’re enjoying your work,” Gretchen said, standing at my door. She was talking business, and the hall was filled with people, so she was Gretchen at this point.

“How’d you know I was enjoying it?” I asked.

“You’ve got a huge smile on your face,” she answered. “So either someone sent you a dirty email or you’re making progress.”

“Progress, Gretchen. I promise,” I said, widening my smile. I remembered what Becky had said earlier about someone once using work computers for porn, and I didn’t want to even joke about such a thing with my boss, whether I was calling her Gretchen
or
Gigi. “I actually worked out two of the bugs Edgar told me about.”

“Already?” Gretchen asked, looking amazed.

“Yeah,” I answered. “Guess I’m having a good first day, huh?”

“I’d say so,” Gretchen responded. “I’ll give you a moment to finish up your work. Make sure you save
everything
… I’ll go down to the lobby and wait for you.”

I nodded and turned back to my computer, so that I could save
everything
, close my programs and apps, and shut down for the day. Once all that was in order, I grabbed my bag, turned off my office light, and headed down to the lobby to meet Gigi.

“Where to?” I asked when I saw her standing by the door, peering out into the street.

“I was thinking something decadent,” she replied. “Maybe something fried, covered in cheese, or soaked in butter… There’s a great bistro down the street that serves the most amazing burgers ever—and, right now, it’s happy hour.”

“Your words are like music to my ears,” I told Gretchen. “A burger and a beer is just what I need right now.” Working in the tech world is stressful enough, so there was no need to explain
why
I needed a burger and a beer so badly.