Deborah and Aviva, Part I

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One night Deborah was lying in her bed, poring over her miserable situation. It was time to get over her boss, she decided firmly; enough time has passed. It was only when she realized that her very naked boyfriend Seth was not only on top of her but also inside of her that she acknowledged that she was doomed.

Her mind kept going back to that day, and all she could do was curse it. Curse the damn day Aviva did not wear one of her usual loose blouses, but a tight long sleeve shirt tucked inside her jeans. It was the first time–and the last–that she wore jeans to work. It was also Deborah’s damnation day.

It was early in the afternoon, and needing a break from the computer Deborah went to get a glass of water. When she came back to the office, Aviva was sitting on her chair, stretching her body with her arms raised above her head.  Aviva was no model. You could see what time and childbirth had done to her body, but it was still the most arousing vision Deborah had had in a long time. All sponsored by a tight long sleeve shirt tucked inside jeans.

From that day on, she couldn’t stop thinking about Aviva. During moments like this, which were becoming more and more common, she faked: interest, arousal, orgasms. Like many times before and like many times to come, Seth wouldn’t notice.

 

Finally came the day when Deborah’s raging hormones were going back to normal, just like every single time with all her other bosses and teachers. And rabbis, doctors, policemen… you get the idea. Or so she thought. She was feeling quite good about herself, actually. She enjoyed this job, and the fact that she was no longer lusting after her boss was a huge pro. 

Still, there were moments when the fine line between “over it” and “still hot for the boss” was more than a little bit blurred. 

Deborah was conflicted when Aviva called her “my child,” a very strange pet name reflecting the fact that motherly Aviva had known Deborah since she was young. Deborah felt a little bit sick when the words ‘oedipal complex’ came to mind, but it quickly went away when Aviva started talking very fast about all the things she wanted done, like, right now, because otherwise the world would end, and Deborah couldn’t help thinking how damn sexy that was. 

Aviva wanted to accomplish so many things in so little time. It was like she had to outrun life, but was always in danger of it catching up to her. No, Deborah didn’t feel like Aviva was her mother. She was all woman, the most amazing woman Deborah had ever met.

 “Are you ready to go to bed? Er, meeting! Committee! You know, the thing we have right now,” Deborah babbled one day, trying to save herself from yet another embarrassing Freudian slip, cursing to hell that tantalizing cleavage Aviva was so fond of displaying lately.

 “Oh, my child,” Aviva chuckled. “Don’t worry, everything is set,” she said, completely oblivious to the many shades of purple Deborah’s face was turning.

 Damn it. Those lapses had to stop. Right. Now.

 “Come on,” Aviva said standing up with a wicked smile, “let’s go to the, ahem, meeting. Nathan is waiting for us.” Oh, she was cruel. “Oh, and don’t forget you’re invited to Shabbat dinner this Friday! Bring that boy with you, he seems so sweet. What’s his name again? Seth?” Aviva asked, walking to the conference room and leaving Deborah standing there by herself, trying, as usual, to fight against the blush.

Moments like this made Deborah question if Aviva knew about her feelings. She was being such a tease lately that Deborah really had to wonder. Being in love with your boss was one thing; after all, everybody is allowed to fall in love with their bosses. But the boss actually being aware of this was quite different, and potentially problematic.

Deborah wasn’t sure if she imagined it or if the flirting in the conference room actually happened. Aviva was almost always smiling, Deborah had noticed, but she was certain that her boss had never winked at her before. And she was absolutely certain there was no need for Aviva to put her hand on Deborah’s thigh or to lean so close to Deborah’s computer screen during a presentation that was, after all, being projected on the whiteboard.

Deborah couldn’t help but be aroused by her boss’s proximity; her smell was intoxicating. She cursed to herself a few times and begged to all gods known and unknown to let her retain concentration and regain the eloquence necessary to overcome Nathan’s unimpressed face.

As soon as the meeting was over, she took her things and flew away from the conference room, hiding in one of the empty offices for the rest of the day. 

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