Nancy...
Well her full name is actually Nancy Smith-Harding but everybody naturally calls her Nancy. She is 30, smart, sexy, and I hate to admit it, but she's also driving me crazy. Who would have suspected that she'd have such an effect on me? After all I am 20 something, widowed and, contented in my life. It was about a year after my wife died, everything in my life was coming together, it was great... Until she came to work for our firm.
Now I suppose I fit into the typical category for male stereotypes, even though I had never even considered it until now. I admit it though; I remember checking her out on that first day. I compared her to my personal qualities of beauty and acceptability, and found she fell into an average rating. Nancy is a pretty woman of that there is no doubt. Her short ash brown hair seemed to suit her even though I tended to like long hair, and her soft hazel eyes were dreamy to look into. Still though, I noted that she wore slacks and I'm a legman so that was the first strike against her. She is not a tall lady, being about 5'2" or 3" and if I were to hazard a guess about I'd say about 120 lbs. She has smallish breasts, but curves, which were definitely to my taste, at least ways judging by what my mind and eyes could discern. You see beside the slacks Nancy wore a sort of thick gray blouse covered mostly by a dull sport coat. Her heels were small perhaps an inch in length, and she sported a small cross about her neck and a wedding ring for jewelry. I remember thinking wedding ring... Too bad she's kind of cute, and yet immediately afterwards I questioned my own ideals. You see I have always though it a bad idea for employees within a firm to date or get together. Yet here I was on a first meeting thinking of her in exactly those terms.
I suppose that one of my own personal idiosyncrasies is I've never been big on casually chatting with people, but I have always been good at observation. I have also developed an instinctive curiosity, which has also lead me to listen, where, and when others speak even if it is not specifically to me. Thus it was that over the next six months I got to know Nancy a bit more. I discovered for example that her original state of attire was on the whole the way she dressed. In fact it must have been at least a month before I ever saw the smallest portion of her legs. Her character was easy going, and all in all I liked her. I suppose though the real trouble started at the company's annual golf tournament. You see each year the staff and their significant others are invited out for a round of golf and meal on the firm. Well on this particular occasion Nancy came with her husband Albert, who for some odd reason reminded me of me. I guess in some ways that should be considered a compliment, but then if that were the case then I am a terrible person, for you see I don't like Albert. Oh sure in the basic sense I could see myself as him. We had similar builds, and in fact similar looks but I hope that is as far as it goes.
I found over the course of the evening Albert seemed to treat his wife sort of like his coat or a dog. You know he owned it, and it was there if he wanted it, but not like a person, a partner, a wife. Perhaps I thought... This was a secluded incidence after all the company was offering free booze and he did partake on several occasions, but Damit it all!! She was lovely Suddenly I wondered where that thought had come from. There was nothing between us, never had been. In fact on the rare occasion where she had said something which peeked my personal interest or curiosity I had stayed quiet. So why now was she so intriguing So on my mind? I couldn't answer that question, still can't. I suppose though that was the start of it.
I remember now it was that very night which cascaded me into the mess I found myself in. You see it was about 3:30 in the morning when suddenly I awoke in a cold sweat. I had been dreaming of Nancy. Well ok... Lets put this into context... I'd been making love to her in my dream. Ravaging her tender young body again, and again. I awoke to the aching of my own cock, which was swollen, hard, and begging I use it. Yet no matter what I tried, I couldn't sleep, nor get rid of it, for hours. I know you understand all that entails so for now I'll not go into it.
The next day at work I looked like hell warmed over. I knew it. I felt it. But to add to the burden Nancy arrived in a skirt, knee length. Her thick blouse, had been replaced by a lighter one and she had left the dull sports coat at home. Even her heels had gained an inch, but her true nature still shone through with the addition of cheapy pantyhose. I might well have enjoyed the day too, but it bothered me that I had dreamt of her in that way. Now each time she came close those scenes flashed in my mind, but worse than this I let her fuss over me. You see she was concerned about me, that I was sick, yet I was consumed by her. My eyes tried to compare her dream body to her newly revealed form. I found myself trying to see down her blouse or to catch a glimpse of more leg as she moved. Things were bad.