“Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I haven’t told you what Michael said today!”
“You mean aside from when he literally declared bankruptcy in front of the entire office?”
Pam rolled her eyes. “Come on. Obviously you heard that. This was earlier.” She speared a few penne noodles with her fork and popped them in her mouth in punctuation.
Across the table, Jim rested his chin in one hand and gazed at her somewhat adoringly. “Well, don’t leave me hanging. What’d he say?”
“Okay, so, I was in the break room at lunch and everyone was talking about Michael having a second job, right? So then Michael came in and everyone got really quiet in that awkward way, and Michael couldn’t see me because Kevin was standing in the way. So Michael asks what everyone is talking about, and then he asks if everyone is talking about me and you, if we’re having sex—”
“Are you guys ready for the ticket?”
Pam ducked her head in mortification as Jim handed their bemused server his credit card. When she looked back up, Jim’s face was telegraphing a practiced look of shock, betrayed only by the way his lips were pressed tightly together and fighting a smile at the corners. “Wow, Pam. I have to tell you, this won’t work if you talk like that at the dinner table.”
In spite of her embarrassment, Pam laughed. It was short lived, though, as their waiter returned with the receipt and hurried away before he could overhear anything else. Pam buried her face in her hands. “We can never come here again, you know that, right?”
Jim stood and offered her his hand, smiling. “Nah. I gave him a good tip. And you can just wear a wig or something next time.”
In the car, Jim’s hand found an easy and natural position on Pam’s knee. She relaxed into the passenger seat and grinned over at him, happy and satisfied and feeling pretty golden. At the first stoplight, he tapped his fingertips against her kneecap. “So, the topic of conversation was us having sex, huh?” He stayed facing forward, diligently keeping an eye on the road ahead of him, but Pam could see the humor in his eyes. Humor and something else.
“Yeah,” she replied, a little bit shyly.
“What about it? And by it, I mean us. Having sex.” His voice sounded playful in the way that it sometimes did, right before it dipped down to being downright sensual.
Pam cleared her throat. She still wasn’t completely used to the quiet confidence Jim exuded and how it made him able to talk about things like sex and having it with her without worrying about sounding dumb or something. She wished there was a way to extract some and bottle it up for herself, but she hadn’t yet figured how. “Oh, well, Michael came in and asked what we were all talking about, and before anyone could say anything he said ‘Jim and Pam? If they’re having sex? What it looks like?’ And then I said ‘Michael’ and he saw me and it got even more awkward from there, if you can believe it.”
Jim laughed as he pulled his car into Pam’s apartment complex. “Wow. I mean, wow.” He put the car in park and held Pam’s door open as she climbed out of the car.
“Yeah. I mean, I’d be more offended if it didn’t get so sad after. With all that money stuff, you know.”
“Being offended and feeling pity don’t have to me mutually exclusive.”
“True. But it’s Michael. It’s not the worst thing he’s ever said.”
“Not even close, I’d say.” They made their way into her apartment (Jim used the spare key she’d given him a few weeks before and she thrilled at the sight of it on his key ring) and he started loosening his tie. She watched, a little transfixed, as he slid it through his collar and dropped it on the floor. He unfastened the top few buttons of his shirt next, then tugged it out from underneath his waistband and pulled it over his head without bothering with the rest of the buttons. It landed on the floor, too, and only then did he fix Pam with an expression that looked a lot like a smirk. “I’m gonna take a shower,” he said, hands already at his belt buckle.
There it was again, that ease with which he slid into seduction. How did he do that? How did he flip the switch from the lanky and affable boy-next-door the to sexy and self-assured man in front of her, currently naked from the waist up and looking at her like the cat that ate the canary, or maybe like the cat that had every intention of lapping up all the cream? She could never be that way, never strip down right inside the doorway or walk around her apartment in just underwear, the way that he could. If she could, she’d shed her own clothes and head to the shower to join him, but she just doesn’t know how. She’d never been sexy or alluring or anything like that.
So instead of sauntering down the hallway, dropping an article of clothing with every other step, she just nodded. “Okay, um, sounds good, I should probably put the finishing touches on an assignment for my animation class.” She shifted from one foot to the other, hating how she felt a little bit shy while at the same time being unable to draw her eyes away from the broadness of his shoulders and the way that the hair on his chest tapered into the sinful looking strip that disappeared below his waistband.
He smiled down at her. “Sure. Work hard.” He turned down the hallway towards the bathroom and she watched the way his shoulder blades moved as she pulled the belt out from his loops with an audible snap. Again, how did he do that?
She tried to concentrate while he was in the shower, but she couldn’t. She was too busy wondering how she could absorb some of Jim’s confidence, or if maybe he could teach her how to not worry about things like feeling self-conscious or unsexy. If anybody could show her those things it would definitely be Jim, because it seemed to come so effortlessly for him. With a sigh she closed her laptop--hers wasn’t good enough to really do any animating, anyway--and headed to the bedroom. As she took off her jewelry in front of her dresser, she studied her reflection in the mirror. She gave herself a ‘sexy’ look--it wasn’t that great. Just looked like regular old Pam making a dumb face.
“Hey. What are you doing?” Jim sidled up behind her with a towel slung low around his waist and still damp from the shower. He made it look so easy, being irresistible. It almost made her mad.
“Just trying to figure out your secrets.”
Jim exhaled. “I guess now is as good a time as any. I prank Dwight so much because I’m actually in love with him.”
Pam laughed. “That’s not a secret, Jim. The entire office knows that.”
“That’s great news, then. I can finally stop pretending. So I guess we’re done here?”
She raised an eyebrow at him in the mirror. “Yep, finished. You can see yourself out, right?”
Jim wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his chin on her shoulder. “You’re cute, you know that?”
“Yeah, and it’s all I’ll ever be,” she sighed, a little bit petulantly.
Jim drew back. “What’s the matter? Is cute bad?”
“No, it’s not-” she sighed again, embarrassed now. “I like being cute. I just wish I was, I don’t know...a little sexier.” Her cheeks flushed at her admission and she worried that Jim would laugh, but instead he just looked at her incredulously.
“Are you kidding me? Pam, you are so sexy. It’s unreal.”
Pam flushed even deeper and her voice came out a whisper when she spoke. “Not like you, though. You do it without even trying. How are you always so confident?”
Jim did laugh then. “Pam, you have got to be joking. Have you seen me? I’m so goofy looking. The opposite of sexy. If I come across as confident, it’s because of how you make me feel.” Pam wanted to argue that he was undeniably sexy and always had been, but he’d given her something to consider with his remark about confidence. She drew her lower lip into her mouth so that she could nibble on it in contemplation. Behind her, Jim groaned and she felt his arms around her middle flex. “See, that? That’s sexy.”
Pam tilted her head. “It is?”
“Yes. God yes. I just don’t think you realize it.” He slid his palms across her stomach and bracketed her hips with his hands. “I have to admit, Michael brought up a good point--”
“Ew. Don’t say his name in my bedroom.”
“Sorry, sorry. I was thinking about it in the shower, though...what it looks like.”
Pam’s eyes went wide. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” and there was that voice again, soft and low and a lot like dripping honey. “What we look like.” He removed one hand from her hip and used it push her hair off of her shoulder so he could press his lips to her neck. She was mesmerized at the sight, even more so at the way his mouth looked when he spoke against her skin. “Aren’t you curious?”
“Oh, maybe,” she breathed. She was having difficulty concentrating. “Yeah.”
“I’m very curious.” He looked up at her, their eyes meeting in the mirror. He held contact for a few seconds before curling his fingers underneath the hem of her sweater. “Can I?” She nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the way his hands looked as they drew her shirt up until it became impossible to keep watching because he was pulling it over her head. As she was shaking the hair out of her eyes he unfastened her bra and drew it down her arms. Before she knew it, she was standing in front of the mirror topless.
Jim pressed his body against hers, the towel doing very little to hide how turned on he was. She wanted to look at him, look at his face, but his hands were cupping her breasts and his thumbs were slowly drawing across her nipples and she found it impossible to look anywhere else, even when she heard him whisper “god, look at you.” He bent his head and kissed her again—her jaw, her neck, her shoulder—before he spoke again, his lips brushing against her skin and giving her goosebumps. “Have you ever noticed that your entire bed is visible in this mirror?”
Pam realized for the first time that when her cheeks blushed, her entire chest blushed too. She didn’t know how to do something like that, like what Jim was insinuating. Maybe he thought she was sexy (and for that she was thankful, of course) but she just wasn’t. She’d die of embarrassment if she caught sight of herself having sex. But Jim was pressed against her back and she could feel the heat of him through the towel and she felt like she could just as easily die from want and maybe that’s why she heard herself saying “oh, no, I’ve never noticed. But I notice now.”
Jim made a noise like a strangled moan. “Again, sexy.” He stook a step back and she felt his hands at the zipper of her skirt before it slid past her hips. It fell to the ground at the same time that his towel finally gave up it’s valiant effort to stay wrapped around his waist, but he didn’t seem to notice because he was too busy hooking his thumbs underneath the waistbands of her hose and panties. She felt his breath skimming against her skin as he pushed them down and it raised goosebumps. After she was totally free from the constraints of clothing, he turned her to face him. He was hard as a rock and she ached to touch him, but he sidestepped her efforts to do so and guided her to the bed. “No, not yet. This is about you. Get on the bed, on the end here.”
“But—”
He covered her mouth with his, stifling any objection. It was chaste, considering their state of undress, and it left her wanting more. He pulled away and gestured to the bed behind her, so she did as he asked and stretched out across the foot of it. She propped herself up on her elbows and watched him as he crawled on the bed too, stopping between her knees. “Will you do me a favor?”
She’d do anything for him anyway, but especially in this moment. “Yes, absolutely.”
He tilted his head towards the mirror. “Watch.”
A mild sense of panic flooded through her. “What?”
He leaned forwards and threaded his fingers through hers before raising her arms so that they were over her head. She gripped onto the edge of the mattress and took a shaky breath as he pressed a kiss to her stomach. Her body arched towards him when he pulled away. “Trust me. Watch, okay?”
Unable to speak, she nodded. It was more because she wanted him to keep touching her or kissing her or putting his body against hers, but he sat back on his haunches and raised an eyebrow at her, clearly waiting until she did as he asked. Nervous (but admittedly a little excited), she turned to face the mirror.
She was surprised by what she saw. Jim was there, of course, all naked and hot and looking good enough to eat. But she was there, too. Her skin was paler than his but flushed in a not altogether unpretty way, her was back slightly arched and her torso elongated because of her raised arms (the position did amazing things to her boobs, too), and her thigh looked amazing underneath his hand. And then she looked at her face.
For the first time that she could remember, she didn’t find fault in how she looked. Her eyes were wide and dark, her cheeks were pink, her lips were plump and moist and slightly parted. She bit down on her bottom lip so that she could see what made Jim groan earlier, and from above her he groaned again. She shifted her gaze from her own reflection to his. He was looking in the mirror, too, desire obvious on his face. Seeing him like that—on his knees with her legs on either side of him, one of his hands on her thigh and the other wrapped around his erection and stroking so slowly that it was almost imperceptible—made her feel powerful and wanted and confident. Sexy. Her mouth quirked up in a smug grin and she winked at him, unable to stop herself.
It must have made something inside Jim snap, because the next thing she knew he leaned down and pressed his tongue flat against her clit. Her hips came off the bed immediately and he had to use both hands to hold her down so that he could settle himself more firmly between her thighs. As he shifted he inadvertently applied more pressure to her center and she felt her head snap back and her eyes close. He pulled away and she glared down at him, but he just smirked and reminded her. “Watch.”
He waited until she turned back to the mirror before he put his mouth on her again. He ran his tongue against her once, twice, three times, then drew her clit into his mouth and sucked with just enough pressure to make her wrap her hand in his hair and hold him there. The sight of him was almost enough to make her come right then and there: his hair wound between her fingers, his eyes closed, his nose pressed against her skin, the ticking motion of his jaw as he moved his mouth over her...combined with the feeling of his tongue and lips against her folds and her own free at at her breast, it was all so close to being too much. It tipped across that line a few moments later when she saw him open his eyes and look at her—the real her—and moaned against her when he saw her watching him in the mirror. She exploded against him, arching towards him despite his best efforts to hold her steady. He went with it, though, wrapping his arms around her hips and holding her up and against him. His tongue was relentless, not stopping until he’d coaxed the entirety of her orgasm from her, her grip on his hair loosened, and she fell slack against the bed.
His lips were on hers in an instant. She opened her mouth on a gasp and he took advantage, sliding his tongue against hers and overwhelming her with their combined taste. It was once again almost too much but at the same time she craved more, so she kissed him back. He slumped against her when she sucked his tongue into her mouth and she felt him against her inner thigh, hot and hard and a little bit slick and she wanted him, so so badly.
She reached for him once more, needing him inside of her, but he pulled away again. Her fingers barely grazed the tip and she groaned in frustration and desire and the unfairness of it all. His lips moved from her mouth to the hollow of her throat, her neck, below her ear, where he paused and softly drew the lobe between his teeth. Her hips raised off the bed, searching for him, and his breathy chuckle in her ear sent a shiver down her spine. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the mirror and the picture they created.
“Do you like that? Watching?” His voice was like a drug, low and husky and the definition of sex. She couldn’t remember how to speak because she was so overloaded with sensation, so she just nodded. “Me too. How could you think you’re not sexy, Pam?” He punctuated his question with kisses: one at her temple, one on her lips, one on her collarbone. “I mean, look at you.” He sat back and grabbed her hips, hauling her towards him so that the tip of his erection pressed against her. In the mirror, she watched him wrap a hand around the base of his shaft and guide himself to her, teasing her entrance. He looked at her, the real her, then faced the mirror too. His eyes flicked across her body hungrily before they met hers in their reflection. “Look at what you do to me.”
Pam smirked at him in the mirror, then turned to look at him kneeling above her. She bucked towards him and he slipped inside of her, just barely--but enough. “Look at what you do to me.”
“Holy shit, Pam, you--” Jim started, but whatever it was he was going to say got lost as he snapped his hips forward and buried himself to the hilt. The mirror forgotten, she watched him, lost in the way that his eyes fell closed and his mouth fell open as they both adjusted. After a few seconds he started moving and he opened his eyes, watching her too.
It wasn’t long before Pam was close again, still sensitive from Jim’s earlier ministrations and quite possibly more turned on than she’d ever been in her life, thanks to the experience of watching the two of them in the mirror. Jim didn’t seem to need long either and he told her so, keeping a steady stream of whispered affirmations about how good she felt around him, how she was the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, how she was going to make him come.
Part of her wanted to turn back to the mirror and watch him come apart above her, but he was so completely captivating. Seeing him like that--so close to falling over the edge and because of her--made her feel so incredibly powerful. Like she was the sexiest person on the planet. Because to Jim, she was. As his thrusts got more and more erratic, she reached out and cupped his face, tilting it so that he could see her. “Watch me, Jim. See what it looks like.”
That did it for Jim. A growl or a groan or maybe a combination of both ripped from the back of his throat and he came--hard. His fingers dug into her hips and he held her against him as he emptied himself inside of her. She was close, too, but she needed more, so she took advantage of him holding her and reached her hand down so that she could apply the pressure she craved to her clit. He watched her, pressed himself against her, whispered to her words of encouragement and love and lust and helped her world come apart at the seams.
Later, after she’d showered and he’d cleaned up, they got back into bed (the normal way) and she wrapped herself around him, sated and content. She didn’t know how to say thank you for what he’d given her, but she had a feeling that he didn’t need it; that he’d likely say that he did even do anything to need thanking for. She was going to thank him anyway, though, as soon as she had the opportunity to get him stretched out on the end of the bed (or maybe in front of the full length mirror on the back of the bathroom door) and return the favor of showing him what it looks like.
