She had been smoldering in the way back of his mind like an ember. Just when he thought he could shake the thought of her, there she was; in the color of polished pine, in the scent of a stranger or the way the light shone off of his water glass at lunch. He knew it was wrong - more than wrong, even. He knew that he was...perverse. Yet the thought of her infiltrated his mind spreading particulate of her within him like a fine mist.
He had spent hours pondering on how to get her alone and what she tasted like. Powerful as a narcotic, his imagination led him to create the body hiding underneath her clothes and he had kissed and licked and touched every inch of her already.
Yet none of it existed. The reality mocked his desire.
He gripped the neck of the bottle of beer like a vice and irritably drank a slug of its contents. He stood in the threshold between the kitchen and the living room and watched her cheerily converse with guests. It was a rare warm day in San Francisco and the pale yellow sundress she wore seemed to glow. She was mixing cake batter by hand. "Yeah, for months," she said enthusiastically. "I think he was up at five this morning wanting to put up decorations." She laughed and he held his breath; her lips were glossy pink and he had imagined them hugging the girth of his cock a thousand times. "But he's the birthday boy, so he got his way...this time." She laughed again. He huffed through his nose and took another swig of beer. The guests filtered outside to join the rest of the party.
He drank in her features. The rise of her breasts shook as she manipulated the baking utensil; they were just big enough to fit into each of his hands. He was suddenly aware that she was looking straight at him. She addressed him formally, a wry look upon her face. He felt his shoulders relax as he approached her. "You don't have to call me that at home," he replied easily.
She shrugged her shoulders, the scalloped edge of her bra suddenly visible. "You have company," she reasoned with an accent, "I want to follow the rules." She blinked innocently as she waited for his response. All he could think of was the pace at which his cock was growing.
He recovered quickly and flashed a smile. "You keep me honest even when I want to break my own rules."
"Someone has to." She winked at him and turned her attention to the cake trays.
From this close he fully realized how young she was and shame swept through him in a warm wave. He looked out of the windows of the kitchen and cleared his throat. "So the - ah - cake will be ready in time to open presents?"
"It's already done." she scooped batter into one tray, then the other. "This cake is for tomorrow, his actual birthday. You know - for family dinner."
He placed his palms upon the countertop. "Will you be joining us?"
Her glossy lips curled into a smile. "I will if you want me to."
"If you don't have any plans, I mean, I know it's your day off an..."
"I'll be there." She turned toward the oven, opened its mouth and shoved the pans inside.
Through the light fabric of her dress he could see the curve of her delicious ass and the...was - was she not wearing underwear? He averted his eyes, drank from his beer again and pressed his erection against the kitchen island between them. He glanced back at her as she fussed with the oven racks. "Jesus," he breathed. She wasn't wearing underwear. He was certain of it.
"Hey!" The hand landed swiftly upon his shoulder, scaring the hell out of him. "You gonna come outside sometime?" His friend carried a large wrapped present under one arm.
"Yeah - I'll be out in a few. I just have to go over a few things with the au pair." His tone had an official edge to it. It was the same voice he used at work.
"Alright buddy - see you out there!"
He turned back toward her, intent on giving her a trivial yet very detailed task, but he was instead stunned into silence. She was bringing a batter-coated fingertip to her mouth. Her eyes met his as she inserted her finger into her mouth and sucked. She raised her eyebrows, only for an instant, before carrying the bowl to the sink. He finally inhaled. She knew...she had to know what she was doing. She was young, yes, but not stupid. Not naive. He wasn't known for hiring imbeciles. The times he had caught her alone down in the kitchen at night wearing nothing but a long t-shirt and panties, the countless times she reached and stretched over him for one thing or another and movie nights where she wore nothing but a t-shirt giving him a full view of what he could have...