Sitting at the smooth gray stone conference room table, Monica had begun to wonder if she had attention deficit disorder. "No", she thought to herself; "my idiot team leader is just the dullest person on the face of the earth!" In her third meeting of the day, Monica found another ounce of her attention span draining with each passing tick of the ceiling fan rotating slowly above her.
It didn't help that she hadn't had a good night's sleep in months since she and her boyfriend split. Everything was irritating her- the room was warm and smelled like Janice sitting across from her had slipped off her heels and aired out her disgusting stocking clad feet.
"How could anyone wear panty hose in this heat?!" she thought to herself. Studying Janice, in a sad lumpy rayon shirt that she wore every 3rd day, this was a woman who certainly wasn't worried about the state of her undergarments. No one waiting at home to rip them off, that's for sure.
"Ugh." She shifted in her seat, annoyed. The cheap vinyl of the office chair she was in was making her bare legs warm under her where her tight black pencil skirt had ridden up. "No one has ripped my panties off lately either, maybe I should just give up like Janice". Glancing down she tugged at her ivory satin camisole that she was wearing under her black blazer, noticing that her heavy full breasts were putting on far more of a show than she intended. She loved her tits, now tan from the summer afternoons that she snuck off to the pool. She loved feeling a man's strong hands cradling her round tits, squeezing them and sucking on her thick pink nipples. "Wow, I need to cum" she thought to herself, sighing.
"Get a grip Monica, it's just a slump. Try to look busy, make some notes about this ad mock up in front of you!" she told herself. Renewed in her effort to pay attention, she leaned forward over the document- glancing up and nodding with a smile at her team leader now and again.
"Who came up with this lifeless campaign?" she wondered to herself as she studied the new ad print in front of her. The picture was wrong. The slogan was nonsensical, and in the wrong color scheme. "Yes! Fixing this turd of an ad should keep me busy for at least a half hour!" grabbing for her pen she got to work, crossing out the moronic slogans that had been added next to the product-----but within the first three strikes her pen stopped providing ink. "Mother FFFF"! I'm never going to get through this meeting." she thought to herself, defeated.
Quietly, she noticed a shiny black pen rolling slowly across the table toward her. Looking up she noticed everyone was looking left at the presentation that was underway, except for Nick who was smiling devilishly at her. Reaching slowly for the pen, she pulled it close to her and removed the cap to find a small piece of folded up paper fall out into her lap. Setting the fancy pen down, and glancing around the room to make sure she wasn't drawing attention she unfolded the tiny note which read, "Stop fidgeting, naughty girl."
"What the hell?!" she thought to herself, her face getting hot with color. "Naughty girl?!" Certainly she and Nick were pleasant with each other when then had to interact- but were nowhere close to a sexual relationship or even a casual friendship.
Intrigued and flooded with nerves she took a breath before looking up to meet his gaze again, to find him no longer smiling- but with a very serious look on his face. Locked in a stare with him she felt her heart beating hard in her chest, her mouth dry, her mind absent of thought; Nick held her there. As he saw her cheeks flush further, he winked and turned his attention back to the presentation.
Blinking quickly every part of her body felt hot, even her eyelids. What on earth prompted that naughty little interaction? Cautiously glancing up at him again, making sure that he was not watching her she studied his profile.
This was man who knew how dress. Everything about him was exactly as she would pick out- not a bland office character from any menswear catalog, a collector. He wore his dark hair neat and short on the sides and just slightly longer and messy on the top. He had a perfectly even short groomed beard. His skin was a lovely pinkish tan, like he had just come from a weekend of golf. Yes, he was indeed a handsome man.
His brown leather Shinola watch added just the right amount of character to his clean crisp pale blue dress shirt, tucked into gray dress pants. He looked effortless, and as she studied him she wondered what the skin on the side of his neck smelled like.
She was lost in thought when he turned and caught her staring, and she quickly diverted her eyes back to her ad. She was breathing quicker now, and noticed how hard and confined her nipples felt against her lace bra. "Mmmmmm. Who is this guy?" she smiled to herself.
Sparing her from another moment of embarrassment, the meeting finally adjourned for a short coffee break. Standing up out of her chair, smoothing her skirt over her plump round ass Monica could tell how warm and wet her panties were between her legs. Confident on her elegant black heels she went for a coffee refill, and nearly spilled it when she returned to find that Nick had moved to the seat next to hers.
Gathering herself, she sat down and handed him the pen.
"Thank you Nick, for saving me earlier," Monica said brightly.
"You are quite welcome, but I prefer Nicolaus," he said as he slowly took the pen from her, his warm hand wrapped around hers for a brief moment.
Pulling her attention back to the front, the next speaker that was starting. She found that if she was facing the speaker, Nick---err, Nicolaus was out of her view. "You can do this Monica, p a y a t t e n t i o n" she chided herself. But that was easier said than done, because now with Nicolaus next to her she could actually smell his musky amber cologne. She was acutely aware of his arm on the table next to hers, so close that it seemed like every hair follicle on her arm was reaching to touch him.
Swiveling her chair side to side a little she accidentally bumped into his leg under the heavy table top. She froze, "Dammit Monica, sit still," she thought. It was then that she felt his strong hand on her thigh to stop her from fidgeting. His hand was big and warm and firm on her leg, and did not pull away.
