I sat at my desk at home, and was having difficulty with getting this particular web page to set up right. It was for a very demanding and fussy customer. Suddenly remembering that you'd offered to help, should I ever have need of it, I pick up the phone and dial your number that I have taped to the front of my monitor. Soon I hear your husky, yet pleasantly deep voice on the other end.
"Hugh? Vicki here. I'm having a dickens of a time with this page for my new, but rather picky client. Could you possibly spare me some time and stop by and help me with this?"
Soft laughter filters down the phone wire and you tell me you can be there in about 25 minutes or so.
"Great! Thank you. By the way, have you had dinner yet?" I steal a quick look at the clock on my monitor and discover it's close to 5:30.
"No, I haven't. I was debating what to have, frankly." Your mind whirls with the possibility of what you'd like to have - but you're just not sure - yet.
"Well, I set a sauce to simmer since lunch, so I only have to set the pasta to water. Would you mind grabbing a bottle of Zinfandel on your way over?"
"No, not at all. I'll leave now. See you in a short bit then."
With that said, we ring off our connections and you dash to make a few quick changes to your "at home" attire. When you're by yourself, you don't like to wear much, if anything.
Humming quietly to myself, I get up to check on the sauce; add another glass to the one that is already in the freezer, and fill a pan with water for the pasta. I quickly set my small glass-topped bistro table that's in the alcove off my island kitchen, and then dash off to the other end of the house to change.
I take a quick three minute shower, and decide to put on my blue Basic Editions pants with the tie waist, and my Blue/White pinstripe Disney blouse w/Mickey on the pocket. I decide to go sans panties, "just in case". Pausing to put on a light swipe of mascara, and a spritz of my most favorite perfume, I slip into sandals, and am just entering the living room as I hear the doorbell.
"Coming Hugh," I call out; having stopped to put some Easy Listening CD's on the stereo. As I approach the door, I see you standing there holding the wine and a white box. Opening the screen wide, I take the box and step back as you enter. Once inside the door, you turn to face me and I give you a soft hug and kiss your cheek.
"Hi, Cutie," gently kissing and hugging me in return.
"What on earth have you gone and done? I thought you were only getting wine," laughing gently as I speak.
"I thought I'd get dessert too while I was out. Will you get the fridge door for me and then I'll open the wine."
"Okay," I say and smile. Opening the fridge door, as you slip the dessert onto the shelf, I feel you lightly press your body into mine.
"If you'll carefully open the freezer, you'll find two glasses tucked into the door getting chilled. Would you like some sliced cheese and crackers with the wine? If not, I'll put the pasta water on to boil."
Deciding against the tid bits, we opt for idle chat about our respective days. We found, that as co-workers in the same firm, that the ebb and flow of idle chat between us, tends to be very beneficial when we're having a problem with creating a page for a new site.
"I hope you're hungry, I've also got a loaf of French Bread warming in the oven; on a low temp."
I've tried to keep my eyes averted from the crotch of your slacks, but ever since you pressed up against me as you bent to put our dessert in the fridge, I've been finding it was getting to be an increasingly difficult task.
I was only half listening as I stood and wondered if you were having as difficult a time as I was. I was feeling just slightly damp and had hoped you hadn't noticed. I felt the best thing to do was to busy myself with the pasta and dinner.
Fifteen minutes later, we were seated at the bistro table, with more Zinfandel. From some where, I note, you'd managed to find a pair of taper candles and had placed them in the holders on the table, and had lit them.
"Ok," you say between bites, "explain to me what seems to be the problem you're having with this web page. What's giving you the most fits?"
You sit back to listen as I explain, in my not so techy way, wherein lies the crux of the problem.
As I start to explain, your eyes are drawn from contact with mine, and you find yourself watching my mouth. Your gaze never falters, and you are aware of a small tightening in your pants. You realize, at this signal, that your thoughts have turned to a sexual nature.
You find yourself wondering, moreso now, than at work, what it would be like to feel your cock sliding in and out from between my lips. Feeling another twinge from your "lap", you know you need to straighten yourself; but you daren't for it will only draw attention to your arousal.
"Hugh? Are you all right?" My voice drifts to you through a haze caused by the pounding blood in your hardening cock. All you can do is nod, for you don't trust yourself to speak calmly.
I get up and stand by your left side as I speak to you, my right hand resting lightly on your left shoulder. As you take a deep breath to speak, your nostrils are filled with the strong scent of musk. You now know for certain, that I'm aroused too. You shift in your chair, and keeping your napkin in your lap, you rise to your feet.
Holding my right hand in yours, you lift it, palm upward to your lips and place a kiss with in the center of my palm. A bolt of raw need sears me to the core as I feel the tip of your tongue brush against my palm in a licking motion.
You hold my fingers steady as that bolt shoots thru to my fingertips. You do it again, watching with pleasure as my eyelids drift closed and I try, albeit unsuccessfully, to draw my hand away.
