So there I was, at the back of the coffee shop, getting my PowerPoint presentation together for the next day’s meeting, when he walked in. I’d been seeing him around the office for a couple of weeks now, and although we’d been making lots of flirtatious contact in the elevator, hallways, dining room and such, we’d barely spoken more than five full sentences to one another, with the exception of the 3 times he’d asked me out. Admittedly, a large part of that was my doing; Steven was so dynamic and attractive, I knew I’d be hooked if I spent too much time around him. And after my catastrophic involvement with the infamous Matthew—as if the juvenile headgames weren’t bad enough, he gave new meaning to the term “one minute man” …so much for the theory that mature men actually behave maturely, or even have a modicum of sexual self-control for that matter —I was hesitant to even begin fantasizing about anyone else, muchless to take it a step further. But there he stood, in all his raven-haired, hazel-eyed glory, skimming the magazine rack while waiting for the teenager to jot down his order.
Trying to stay focused, I buried my head in my report once again, but try as I might to feign an intense look of concentration, I think anyone within half a mile could’ve seen that it was all küçükçekmece escort for show. I wanted nothing more than to turn off my pc, make room for him at the seat across the table from mine, and spend the afternoon laughing and flirting carelessly the way I did P.E. (that’s Pre-Egomaniac to those in the know… not Premature Ejaculator, as I’m sure many of you thought. But actually, both fit, so feel free to apply them interchangeably as it suits you). I’ve become a lot less hesitant about flirting now than I used to be, but more hesitant about letting it lead anywhere beyond that, and because of this, I’ve feared coming across like a tease for some time now. As I sat there, staring at one spot on the screen, mulling all of this over, I heard the light dragging of the chair across from me being pulled out, and before I could get my thoughts straight, Steven’s smiling eyes were dancing at me from across the table.
“Working hard, or hardly working?” he smirked, causing me to cringe outwardly at the cheesy old line. “That bad, huh?” he smiled at me, causing my lashes to bat involuntarily like some schoolgirl with a crush as I smiled shyly…God, I felt like an idiot at that moment. At that point, I decided I had şişli escort to be myself and flirt mercilessly, or he’d leave thinking I was some kind of selective deaf-mute who only responded to typical office banter. So I let loose the gates, and much as I’d hoped, we spent the remainder of the afternoon flirting and chatting about a million things, from current events to our favorite authors. As we got up to leave, I felt that all but dead and gone heady rush that I hadn’t felt since P.E., and I knew that there could be something with this guy, if he could make me feel this way after months of feeling dead inside.
There was a knock on my apartment door, and as I pulled it open, Steven rushed in, pushing me against the opposite wall, and slamming the door with his foot, quickly lifted my arms above my head; holding them there with one hand, he began rubbing my tits through my shirt with the other. He lowered his head, taking time to look into my dark eyes with those piercing hazel ones, and then began to mouth my small, perky tits hungrily through the thin, sheer t-shirt I’d answered the door in. He rolled his tongue around one nipple and then the other, lowering his hand into my thin, wispy panties, and şirinevler escort feeling the heat and wetness emanating from my core. He rubbed my clit vigorously, dipping 3 of his large fingers into my tight, juicy cunt ever so often, teasing me with a taste of what was to come soon after. He brought his arm down, but I kept mine pinned up against the wall, giving him full access to every part of me. He tore through my thin tee almost savagely, sucking on my exposed tits like a man possessed, and continued down my torso and stomach with the biting and sucking until he reached my by now dripping little panties, hungrily ripping them off with one hand, while he sucked my thick, smooth, soft pussy lips straight through the sheer material, tonguing my clit with every stroke. I ground my wet little pussy against his greedy lips as the panties fluttered in tatters to my feet, to land alongside the remnants of my tiny t-shirt. He lapped at my clit and engorged pussy lips, fingering deep inside my pussy… bringing me closer and closer to climax until…
I woke up.
Covered in a sheen of sweat, pussy juice slick between my thighs. I was sexually frustrated after the time I spent waiting on that last 40 year old frat boy, who couldn’t and wouldn’t discuss anything other than idle chatter face to face, to grow up and get a clue about me, and I wanted Steven; wanted him to be the one I could start being my sexual self with again. I decided I’d call him up at work tomorrow and make it clear that the feelings he’d expressed before were reciprocated. Until then, I had to take care of my immediate needs for this night.
To be continued….