I didn't hear her come out of the bathroom and enter my study. I was too focused on what I was writing. After working with Jay on the software design through a week and weekend filled with nights which stretched into mornings, I badly needed something to relieve the stress. Not only the stress from getting this document done, but with working with Jay. Not that she's stressful. Not in a work way anyway. Stress and the chocolate milkshakes we made as we were wrapping up made me careless. Well, not the milkshakes themselves, but the Kahlua we added to it. Perhaps a little too much Kahlua. Also, we had taken off our shoes and bare feet on carpet doesn't make any noise. So when she excused herself, I hurriedly pulled up the story I was writing. I like to write about women who've interested me. Maybe write about isn't entirely accurate. I write my fantasies about them down. I was stupid enough to bring up that story and try to outline a few things since sex has always been a great stress reducer for me. Even if not actually doing it, the thinking of it is. And after that time working with Jay, I needed some sort of relief from that itch I was feeling. I needed it badly .
When she let out a soft, surprised "Oh!" I felt as if I jumped out of my seat though I didn't actually move. I stopped myself from reaching for the keyboard to switch to another window. It was too late for that. My face turned red and my mind raced to find some explanation, anything. Nothing came up. What could I say? So I swiveled in my chair to face her with an embarrassed smile, my face still red,.
Her face was red too, a soft match to the redness of hair and that made her even prettier. "I'm sorry, " she said softly, her eyes averting the computer monitor and averting looking at me. I couldn't look at her either so I stared off to the side someplace.
"No, I'm sorry," I said just as softly. Then there was nothing else I could think of to say. I mentally sighed and resigned myself to telling her the truth.
"It helps me relieve stress," I mumbled, still looking off to the side. I paused. "I'm sorry. I . . . I hope you don't think I'm a perv. It was stupid of me."
She took a quick glance my way. "I've never read stuff like that. Not - not that I haven't experiences, but I just never had." I looked at her and I could see in the way she stood she was struggling with herself.
"I'm sorry," I said again, agony creeping into my voice. She's thinking badly me of - a guy who likes to write porn, to write his fantasies. And now she'll avoid me as much as she can. She'll find ways to avoid having to work with me. I was feeling empty. Resignedly, I swiveled my chair to face the monitor and my hand reached for my mouse to delete the story. It would be gone, never to be finished.
I heard a low "No, don't."
I swiveled around to face her again. Her eyes still weren't looking at me. "I'd like to . . . I'd like to finish reading it," she said in a very low voice, a shy voice.
I got out of my chair and let her sit while I moved to the chair by the desk, staring at a wall. I was churning inside for what seemed like hours, but Jay's a fast reader so I knew it only seemed that long. I glanced at her and could see she had finished and was just sitting there silent, tense. I looked away again, my eyes shut, afraid to see.
"It's not finished," I said to the wall, wanting to draw out her reaction, to get the storm over with.
"Someone you know?" Jay asked.
"Yes." Then I added. "But it's not real, not something that happened. Only what I wished did."
I heard the chair move away from the desk and heard her swivel to face me.
"Is it me, Nick?", her voice low and hesitating.
I felt trapped. I wanted to lie. I was ashamed to let her know. But I couldn't lie, not to her.
"Yes," I said, ready for her rage. There was silence. I looked at her. Her hands folded in her lap. Her eyes looking at the floor. Her face showing a struggle, but not anger.
I got up and went to her, kneeling in front of her. I unfolded her hands, taking them in mine, kissing one, then kissing the other. And each time I did, I felt a small tremble. I looked up at her downcast eyes and saw a glistening from small tears. I straightened up so our faces were level, leaning to press my lips against her right eye, then the left. Then her nose. Then her lips. Sweet. Soft. i felt a small tremble through her body.
Hunching again, I lifted the edge of her t-shirt, kissing the soft skin that I exposed, pulling the edge higher. Her hands moved over mine, gently clasping them. I stopped. Her hands moved to take hold of the bottom of her shirt and she pulled it over her head, dropping it on the desk. She wore no bra, but I knew that all too well.
I knelt there looking. Her long hair flowing over her breasts, allowing only hints of their roundness, offering only glimpses of her pink nipples. The red of her hair contrasted with her white skin, with the blue of her jeans. Leaning forward, I took one in my mouth, my tongue playing over the soft nipple. Then taking it between my teeth, bit gently. She gasped.
I left her breast and her nipples to reach for a chocolate milkshake. Trapping some in the straw, i let the drops fall onto her nipple. Then I greedily licked it, sucked on it, feeling it harden in my mouth, tasting the chocolate, the Kailua. Her hands went to clutch the chair's arm rests. I wanted her to feel how much I wanted her, how much I wanted her body. I sucked harder, taking as much of her breast into my mouth as I could. I wanted it all. I wanted all of her.
My hand reached for the other breast to feel its softness, cupping it with my hand. I took the nipple between two fingers and squeezed, a small squeeze to offset the hardness with which I was sucking on her other nipple, on her other breast. Her moans grew louder and I was lost in their song.
Then I switched, coating the other nipple with drops of chocolate milkshake, sucking on it, hard, very hard. Her hands gripped the chair rests tighter. She slouched down the chair, trying to escape, trying to give me more. Two fingers gently massaged the other nipple, easing the hurt I had made. I felt the hardness in my mouth. I felt the hardness between my fingers.
