Authors note: This story does not contain detailed, explicit sex scenes; so if that is what you're looking for you won't find it here. This story has greatly benefitted from comments provided by Privates First-Class.
I sat in my chair during the presentation, occasionally shifting my eyes over to see Dick in profile as he sat in the next row ahead and to my right. I squirmed in my chair again, my vulva felt damp and I was sure I was going to have to add a panty shield during the upcoming break. After months of seeing him I had this same reaction each time—but I hadn't been able to bring myself to the point of being one of the women that sought his attention whenever they could. It wasn't that I didn't think I wasn't good looking enough, or had a personality that would turn him away, I knew that wasn't the case—but for some reason he seemed to be a man who would remain out of my reach. Maybe it was because if he did take an interest in me I was afraid I wouldn't be able to resist my urge to bed him as quickly as possible. A behavior I had never exhibited before and wasn't sure I should even acknowledge having now.
I was in the third year of my job in the Wetlands Section as a biologist, having started fresh out of college with my Bachelor's Degree in Natural Resource Management. I hired in at entry level with but a summer internship under my belt, though I had been interested in natural history from an early age. I had progressed in my experience and skill level and had now twice moved to a higher civil service classification.
I was happy with my job, less so with my social life, having gone through four boyfriends in as many years. Lately, this last relationship had soured and I had finally walked away after having tried to make it work. Too many arguments about nothing of consequence simply pointed to something more serious we hadn't come to grips with—if nothing else, the mismatch in our libidos was a problem. Why did I find myself with men with needs less than my own? Or at least, were willing to fulfill my needs with something other than penetrative sex.
I had first met Dick face to face at a meeting two years ago and I couldn't get him out of my mind. I had seen him previously from a distance a quite a few times and had asked a few people about him. Most had very positive things to say—just one girl said he was kind of slow when it came to dealing with women. I had no idea what that meant.
What was peculiar was that from the first time our gazes met I couldn't stop looking at him. The first time I had continued to look at him until someone redirected my attention, then I felt a little self-conscious I had been so blatant, so obvious. It seemed it had worked the same for him. What I found strange was I didn't feel awkward or embarrassed by it, in fact, it gave me a bit of a thrill to see he was behaving in the same fashion.
But neither of us had ever acted upon it, never made an attempt to see if there was something more behind our mutual attraction. For my part, it was because I was in a relationship with someone else and didn't feel it would be right to suggest I was open to him when I wasn't. The timing of my leaving one relationship and entering a new one never coincided with the times we saw each other—he worked in another office and lived in another town. Relationships are sometimes a matter of convenience, involving frequency and distance.
Keeping his image out of my mind had become almost impossible after I talked with him the second time at this meeting. My friend Jane thought I had gone off the deep end. She had been with me and thought he was just as handsome as I did. She had a boyfriend so I figured her assessment was somewhat objective; though obviously we all have different ideas as what makes a guy attractive.
At this, our annual three-day training session, we had shared a table with him at dinner two nights in a row and neither of one of us had seemed to make much of an impression on him—though Jane obviously wasn't trying. Still, when our gaze met again I was sure there was a connection, just not overtly expressed on the part of either of us. He hadn't made a direct effort to engage me in conversation from across the large, round table and I was sorry I wasn't sitting closer. At least, I put it down to that. Maybe that was what the girl had meant by being slow with women.
He was friendly and a little flirty, but that was it when we finally spoke to one another later. One of the other women had been bold enough to ask him point-blank if he had a girlfriend or was engaged. He had smiled and replied with a suggestive tone of voice that melted me—"No, I'm looking. But I'm not in a hurry. Though I think I may have found her."
This as his eyes came to mine. I didn't know if it was simply by happenstance or not, but I felt a tinge of excitement nevertheless. I smiled back as my body went warm. He seemed a contradiction in his behavior towards the opposite sex—aloof and at the same time engaging in a subtle way. Or, at least in regards to me.
I was sure he wasn't in a hurry. He could have had his pick of any of a half dozen girls from what I could see. The second night of the meeting as we sat with colleagues we started harping about what we didn't like about our smartphones. There were the usual complaints about the availability of apps, how much they cost, and how well the service providers did in terms of customer support. The conversation turned to data usage and how texting was eating up what was offered in many plans. There was good-natured banter about what we liked and didn't like.
It was when Dick spoke up, saying he hadn't found it to be a problem as he didn't text much. There was silence for long seconds before one of the others asked.
"What do you mean you don't text much? How can you have a smartphone and not text?"
"Easy. This is a phone. You can talk on it, you can take pictures and videos with it, you can play games on it, and you can send text messages. So I would rather talk. I don't like to text so I have three rules if someone is going to text me. That cuts down on how much data I use," he replied good-naturedly.
"Oh come on!" I said incredulously, "I can't live without texting. Let me hear your rules."
"Okay," he smiled as all of us at the table focused our attention on him.
"First, I don't initiate texts. I let everyone know I don't care to text. That puts the burden on them to make a choice. Second, I will respond only if I can answer with- yes, no, okay, or a number, and finally if I'm not going to reply to your text I reply with NR, which means 'no response'. That way you know I received the text and read it. If it's something important you can elect to call me and we can discuss it. After all, it is a phone."
"Come on you can't be serious," one of the others retorted when he finished speaking.
"It works for me. It may not work for you. I'm already a slave to computers and other technology. I decided to draw the line when it comes to communicating with another person by phone. As far as I can see it results in clearer, more effective communication."
"Man you need to step into the future. You're going to be left out with an attitude like that," another guy offered.
"Maybe, maybe not. So far my friends seem to understand. If it's not important enough to talk about then the subject isn't that urgent in terms of a quick response."
That generated quite a conversation. More lively than most I had been involved in over the three-day meeting. Dick was probably four or five years older than I was and I put it down to an attitude based upon our age difference and a willingness to be different.
As I scanned the dining room I did notice that fully half of the people present had their smartphones in their hands using them or on the table in front of them checking the screen from time to time. There were two tables where the people were not talking to one another at all as they were busy with their phones instead. The tables where smartphones were not in evidence were at tables with older people engaged in lively conversations.
I looked at Jane and pointed to my phone. I picked it up and texted her.
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How about we try to get his phone number
]
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Why?
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So we can get to know him. Pretend to want to try his texting rules
]
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Emily are you crazy?
]
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Do you have a better idea?
