The unspoken world of SEX #Excerpt #Sex #Blog #Swingers #Exhibitionist

The weight of the plastic framed mirror felt like stone. No doubt the weight was the burden of guilt. A fault induced by the spying on a couple engaged in intimate moments.

A tingling simmered from the tips of my fingers which wrapped around the mirrors frame. It was as though the mirror were warning me - correction, scolding me. What was I doing?

                The awareness of Maria’s eyes staring down at me brought me realization.

                I shook my head, objecting this invasion of privacy. But how private could sex be in a public bathroom? Regardless, I had no right to intrude on their moment despite how I felt about their locational choosing.

                Like a car salesmen refusing to forfeit a potential deal, again she seized my hand in hers. This time leading me outside our stall to stand in front of the occupied stall.

                She motioned at the hinged steel door seemingly bothered. She was impatient and frustrated that I didn’t share her fondness for voyeuristic pleasures.

She was unbelievable.

I stared at her gawkily. Tilting my head and eyeing her in disbelief. She stared onward with intensity, like she could see straight through the solid door, yearning to feel the pleasures they felt.

Following her gaze and the rhythmic thrust of a body against a solid surface, I diverted my attention to a folded strand of toilet tissue which hung over the door.

Public sex, I’ve heard, is one of the ultimate thrills. The anxiety of not knowing if you’ll get caught or if someone is watching heightens the sensation. For exhibitionists, it is the preferred sexual environment.

There are many unspoken languages is the world of sex. For example, many swingers meet other local swingers at grocery stores by way of what is in another’s cart. They peruse the aisles searching for cart contents which mirror their own. Specific items lined in the basket nearest the basket handle signifies, “We’re swingers, and we’re looking to meet and greet.”

Like swingers, the same is true for sexual exhibitionist. They too engage in conversations unspoken.  A strand of toilet tissue hanging loosely over a stall door implies, “You’re free to watch, but quietly.”

That ass is mine #excerpt #fiction

Yikes! She was a simmering pot of frustration, but there had to be some mistake. I couldn’t be the fuel to her irritation. I couldn’t understand why I would be an outlet for her hostility. The tone didn’t bother me as much as the wording.

Regardless of how much she said and its emphasis, all I heard was “challenge.” I replied defensively, “excuse me?”

                “I’m not trying to offend,” Maria defended. Trying to smooth over the rough conversation she added, “It is my hope to one day by like you, equally skilled and dedicated. I’m simply trying to understand what it is that led you here.”

                Bullshit. She was just gunning for me. Now she’s an admirer?

                None the less, I responded, “I worked hard. I sacrificed. That’s what got me here.” The matter-of-fact declaration was laced with self-assurance. Unlike most, I worked very hard to achieve my success. There were no handouts. 

                “What did you have to sacrifice?”

                “Everything.” I stated crisply.

                “Could you unfold that?”

I sighed, “Relationships, family, social life…”

                “Sex?” She questioned.

                “At times,” I admitted.

Despite my candid reply, my forwardness surprised me. I was glad for the moment to organize my thoughts while she reflected on her subsequent question.

                “What is the most challenging obstacle for you?”

                Again she was prying, each question becoming more invasive than its predecessor. My conscious rebuked her, we weren’t old friends drinking wine and indulging in outspoken conversations! How did I allow her to violate my thoughts? Was she my weakness?

I could still feel the impression she left on my ass, yet again I replied with candidness, “The more I fix the problems of my client’s, the less I’m able to repair my own.”

                “Why do you think that is?”

I laughed. She was really sounding like a psychiatrist. My humor didn’t weaken her expression, she was peculiarly concentrated. I readjusted my expression to reflect hers, “I’m not sure. Being stretched too thin maybe?”

                “Maybe you should take a vacation.” Her lip lifted at the seam and she added, “A nice beach with white sand and crabs that bite you on the ass.”

The ass comment pulled a smile from my taut expression, “Maybe one day.”

                She reclined, replacing her intensity with a casual and relaxed disposition. She stretched, extending her arms in the air, then clasped her hands behind her head while simultaneously framing her legs outside of mine.  “When was your last vacation?”

                Her legs grazed the outside of mine as she continued to stretch.

I replied unperturbed, “I don’t think I’ve ever had one.”

She hissed, “Ms. Kelly we have got to get you out of this city.”

Her immediate exit from the booth left me deliberating whether she meant leaving promptly or if she was simply excusing herself. She stood as I stared dumbfounded.

She stated, “Excuse me; I just need to visit the restroom.”

Turning towards the back of the restaurant she searched for the restroom sign, but before she paced away from me she questioned, “Do you not need to wash your hands?”

The question wasn’t an aim at cleanly awareness, she was baiting me. 

Only the Weak Submit Part 1 #Excerpt #Fiction

It was nearly a week later when Maria thought to fulfill her promise. By then I had forgotten all about the lunch invite she and Alisa extended to me. Now current on her work, she insisted I allow her the opportunity to make up for her lunch absence.

The invitation caught me off guard considering she had spoken to me only in passing these last few weeks. She stayed tucked away in her office, seemingly more busy than everyone, including me.

                It was a relatively dawdling day, free off appointments. I used the majority of the day to review cases and client files. I was open and free to accept lunch invitations. Despite Maria’s remoteness, I obliged.

                We returned to the restaurant Alisa and I had our lunch two weeks prior.

                Again, unsure how the conversation would lead, I took the reins stating, “How are the client files coming? Oh, and are the marketing testimonial is completed for the site?”    

Her friendly expression didn’t match her irritated tone when she replied, “Must we discuss work at lunch?”

I nodded agreeably, “Well, how are things outside of work? You’re currently pursing your masters, correct?”

                She nodded, “I am.”

                “Well,” I pondered, “I know how daunting that can be. Especially given the hours you put in.”

She rolled her eyes, and the hostility baffled me until she expressed, “No work, remember?”

                “I see.” I said.

                “Do you?” she replied rather distastefully.

Unsure of why I was the object of her hostility I inquired, “Is there a problem?”

                “Do you have to control everything, all the time. Is that just simply your nature. Or are you simply filtering the weak in hope that one day someone will challenge you?”

Rich or Poor, we all enjoy a little kink #excerpt #blog

Her lips curled around her words, yet I could hear nothing other than her declaration. She’s selling her practice.

The restaurant fell silent as I absorbed the news. My first reaction was pessimism. I wondered what event caused her to abandon the principal representation of her. An embodiment of everything she believed, everything she expressed. Her practice.

My auditory returned and she continued, “I have many uncharted experiences I wish to explore. I’ve worked long enough; it’s time for me to live darling. Are you not happy for me?”

My surprise overpowered me, I couldn’t speak. My eyes trailed the length of the wooden table, left to right. Finally I said, “Of course I’m happy for you. But are you sure?”

                “I’ve thought about it for a while now, don’t be so morose.”

She curled a strand of her dark brown locks behind her ear adding, “And the best part is you’ll be receiving my most exclusive clients.”

                My eyes snapped to her sharply, “You’re giving away your clients. Only five dear. It was one of my most irrefutable contingencies.”

                I threw up my hands, “Wait, you’ve already signed a practice transfer agreement?” I was on edge, struggling to keep up and make sense of this unexpected news.

                “Relax!” She demanded. “Nothing is finalized as of yet. But I have these clients whom are exceptionally near and dear to me and I wouldn’t trust them in the hands of anyone other than you.”

                “Did I work with them when I interned with you?”

                “Never. I would never allow an intern close to my premium clientele. They require ultimate discretion. Although the potential owner is exceptional, I do not trust her with these clients. I trust you.”

She sipped her wine, eyeing me suspiciously. She was wondering why I didn’t reverence her and scream with appreciation of her good deed.

                I said, “That’s very, very kind of you.”

                “Don’t bore me with courtesies, Noah. This will be very good for your business, trust me.”

I reached for my wine, swallowing a hefty gulp like it was water. She was right. This would be an excellent opportunity for me to expand my brand and reach an affluent market.

                Still I wasn’t sure. I said, “I really do appreciate the offer, but I’m really stretched too thin already, I can’t imagine five additional clients without hurting my existing clientele.”

                Her frustration mounted, again I was being ungrateful. “You’re a business owner, of course you’re stretched thin! Learn to delegate more tasks. No one expects you to be superwoman, but you.”

Intrigued by a thought she grinned, “If that new employee of yours is as good as you say then you’ll need her.”

She flipped the clasp on her very large double-handle leather Prada tote and retrieved a large confidential envelope. She eased it across the table, “This could be the beginning of the rest of your life, all you have to do is open the envelope. I will be here to guide you. By placing these files in your care, you are accepting this responsibility Noah. Seize your life.”

Old Friends.. New Interests (An Excerpt)

I heard the hoarse tone before I saw her. She was loud by nature and the additional raspy inflections carried from the lobby and into the walls of my office. Her preference for nicotine produced an unattractive coarseness. She said, “It’s fine darling, she knows who I am. I’m always welcome.”

               The clinging of her heels echoed her office bound pursuit. Pausing for a pose underneath my door frame she exclaimed, “Noah, darling!”

I stood, edging around the corners of my desk to embrace her. “Janice.”

               “How are you my love?” She asked still sealed in our embrace.

               “Good,” I replied.

She stood back to survey me. “You look good,” She affirmed.

The compliment raised a light smile. It was weak and my anxiety was ill-disguised. Intuitive Janice caught the flaw. She pried. Her incisiveness breached the bounds of a friendly analysis and took the form of a concerned therapist.

I brushed away the intrusion, I didn’t need a shrink. The invasion caused me to retract my hands from her hold.

I said, "Read your article in this month’s Sexual Expression."

She respectfully followed my lead to divert the subject, eyeing me as I returned to my desk. "And what did you think?"

"It was exceptional, of course."

I didn't need to note the broad smile to know she was pleased with my review. I still was unable to look at her for fear she would continue her investigation. Her satisfaction carried in her tone, "Thank you. You know I hate those damned things. They're inclined to center on the less complimentary topics of the interview, meanwhile, discounting any intended points."

She huffed unpleased she even dealt with the tedium of magazine article interviews.

"Well," I said sitting comfortably in my chair, "If those weren't your key points then they did you a favor."

She smiled in advance of a disappointed frown. She questioned, "What are you doing, Noah?"

Her friendliness had evaporated. She was now perturbed and disappointed. I offended her.

Apologetically I said, "You're right." I tossed aside the paperwork in my hands. I was working while in the company of a very dear friend. I was being rude. It only now occurred to me that she was still standing, I motioned, "A seat?"

She scoffed, "No ma’am, I came to kidnap you." She gleamed, "Lunch?"

Though presented in the form of a question, the invitation was unavoidable and irrefutable. I grabbed my phone and purse. This would be interesting.

..Raw, Part 2 (An Excerpt)

He didn’t stop, he wouldn’t stop. He was determined to bring me release.

Bent over the sofa, with my ass lifted and his face submerged into it, we were one. We moved with a rhythm, a synchronized sex beat.

My cries sent a bolt of energy throughout his body and he thrust his tongue forward harder. The request for him not to stop electrified him. I could hear the wetness as it spread about his tongue. It was better than hearing the refreshing sound of rain because this was the sound of sex.

This beauty is Rihanna - if you didn't know.

I felt the bubble. It starts small, the size of a pea until a sensation brings forth an arousal and expands its diameter. As it grows everything intensifies. Nipples become tender, breathing speeds, moans become louder, toes curl, and every worry, every frustration disappears.

Ones only concern is to release this growing ball of pleasure intensifying inside of you – The Orgasm.

My dull nails scratched against the sofas microfiber and my face burrowed between the seat pillows. I felt the bubble of orgasm rise within me and I began to return my hips to him harder. Hoping his tongue would be pressed deeper within me. To fill me.

Longing to feel, to touch, to stimulate, I again massaged my breast and pulled at my nipples crushed between the weight of me and the couch. I grabbed my ass and spread my cheeks.

Each brush of his tongue against my erected treasure impelled involuntary convulsions. I was getting closer and I ached for release. But just as quickly as he stirred me, the intensity soon deflated. Once situated on a cloud ready for orgasmic launch, I slowly descended from the orgasmic heavens.

Pulled so close, I felt I was right there, right on the edges. But I suffered through my own sexual abnormality, my inability to orgasm. 

..Raw, Part 1 (An Excerpt)

I live my life behind veneer expressions. Masking my surprise, hurts, fears and many times my arousal, but tonight something sinful pulled back the curtains on my self-control. The pulsation below my waist trembled like a massive thunder shock. I arose, enchanted by the mere thought of her. The desire led me out of my bed.

Answering to the pleas for touch and stimulation, I abandoned the satin sheets, allowing my feet to carry me forward to my living room. The television still beamed, but that irritation didn't steer or derail me from my objective. I sought release.

Sleeping peacefully on the couch and unaware of my needs, I stood over Mark. A needy flame burned within me as I stroked his handle in the warmth of my palms. 

Surprised, he called to me confused, but I said nothing as I stroked up and down his stem.

Once erect I mounted him, one of my thighs between his and the other nearer his hip. A sideways position I enjoyed. He moaned as I slid up and down him steadily, until his moans intensified. Driven by the desire to control and give pleasure I elevated him to new heights as I wrapped my vaginal walls around him. They seized each thrust, clasping to hold him inside me. He soon came, but the fury of my arousal was only minimally quenched, I wanted more.

Verbalizing my hidden thoughts I said, “Fuck me.”

The voice was mine, but even I was unsure. He starred at me absently. He’d never heard me speak in such vulgarity and it momentarily dazed him. When he came to, he adjusted and hovered over me.

 “No,” I corrected. “Not with that.” I said pointing to his man tool. “Fuck me with your tongue.”
The rawness didn’t repulse, nor startle him. He was turned-on by the frankness of my demand. Submitting to the floor on his hands and knees, he pulled me to the edge of the couch and threw my legs over his shoulder as he dove between my legs like he was savoring his last meal. He sucked and licked, while images of Maria infiltrated every sensual thought.

   My moans carried through every baseboard and ceiling of my apartment. I rubbed my nipples, clamping my breast in my palms.

   He flipped me, parting my ass and licking unexplored territories before returning deep into the land of seeping nectar. The demanding voices to, ‘fuck me harder and deeper’ sounded like my own, but I was so consumed, I couldn’t be sure.

   As I yelled for him to slap my ass, a feeling brewed within me. A deadly heat made me feel like my body would explode.  Though logically I knew it was impossible, it felt as though all the blood within my body diverted, leaving all its warmth between my thighs. All the nerve senses in my body perished except one. My heart had stopped beating and the only beat worth pounding was the pulsing of my clit. A feeling arose that everything within me centered on one area home to one small object.  I was going to erupt.

I pleaded, “Please don’t stop. Please!”

Desirous (An Excerpt)

That woman had the most unpropitious timing, or maybe her timing was calculated. She was unbelievably smart, no doubt.  Incredibly persuasive and I would be remised if I didn’t add manipulative. I couldn’t help but wonder if her unfavorable timing was measured.  

As I entered my home, the glow of the television unnerved me. I wasn’t one for watching television and I definitely wouldn’t leave it on in my absence. The volume was muted, but it was the luminescence which spilled from the screen and decorated the nearby wall which had warned me.

I drop my bags on the floor and removed my shoes before stepping outside the foyer. I followed the lighting and turned the corner as I was greeted with a routine, “Hey hun.”

My uncertainty dissolved as I replied absently, “Hey.”

Sensing my displeasure he inquired, “Long day?”

One of the absolute longest, I mused, but I replied with a nonchalant, “Same as always.”

Neglecting our usual greeting which was complimented by a kiss on the cheek, I walked past him and the television stating, “I’m going to call it a night.”

The declaration paused him and it wasn’t until I was halfway to our bedroom when he replied, “Okay. Goodnight.”

Entering the bedroom I began unfastening my blouse, exposing my breast and the black bra which supported them.

 I felt stained and unclean, comparable to person who had just committed a heinous act. Like a cop who engaged in their first act of defiance. Or a once polished woman who exploited her body. My challenge was not that I had aroused the interest of a coworker, but that the feeling was reciprocal.

My crime was minimal, yet the weight of it compelled me to cleanse my sins.

I turned the chrome knob and water cascaded through the shower head sprout.

I continued to strip my clothing, until I was bare and I tiptoed across the cold tiled floor and through the thick glass shower enclosure.

The hot water scolded me, still I turned the temperature higher. The scorching heat reassured me that I would be thoroughly sanitized.  Most importantly the scolding water would discourage my hands from seeking pleasure. It still throbbed, enticing me to ride the thrill of ecstasy, but I resisted because I was in control.

Stepping out of the shower I slipped on my satin kimono. I loved the feel of the fabric on my warm skin. I laid in bed nearly an hour, chasing the cool areas of my satin sheets with my feet. A few times I rolled over to Mark’s side of the bed since he hadn’t yet retired for the night. The heat radiating from my body had become uncomfortable. It made me restless, but mostly it made me desire Maria.

Attraction V.S. Craving (An Excerpt)

The hours passed slower than usual, but the workload proved constant and heavy. Between two client appointments, the filing that I had avoided the night before and the constant flood of inquiries from both employees and clientele, five hours passed sooner than I had expected. I hadn’t seen Maria since that morning and part of me wondered if our lunch was still intended.

I telephoned the front desk, “Alisa, have you gone to lunch yet?”

                “No, Ms. Kelly,” she replied. “It isn’t yet noon and we’re going together, right?”

                “Yes, yes.” I assured, “I know it isn’t 12, but I just wanted to be sure the time was set.”

                “Oh yes, the time is set unequivocally at noon.”

Despite the fifteen minutes to spare, when I hung up I powered down my laptop and searched for my iPhone. Five missed calls and three texts were all that awaited me, a relief considering the morning I’d had. I was actually relieved to have a moment outside of the office and looked forward to the impromptu lunch date. After grabbing my purse and blazer I was off to lunch with the girls.

Passing by Maria’s office, I was surprised to see that she was less aware of the time than I was. I tapped a polite knock on the door and she spilled in to apologies, “Ms. Kelly, I’m sorry. I really need to get this done. Jim in marketing wanted me to gather some testimonials to place on the website and I have all these submissions and I’ve only made it through half since yesterday…”

She apologized once more and exactly at the moment I knew it was coming she said, “You two go without me. I’ll try and catch up and if not I’ll find some way to make it up to you guys. I’m sorry.”

                Lessening the disappointment I said, “Not a problem. Sometimes things happen that we can’t anticipate.”

                I was set on returning to my desk and settling for the chips I had stowed in my desk, but Alisa caught me as I exited Maria’s office.

                “You ready?” She asked.

                Smiling I replied, “Sure am.”

I typically only engaged in business meetings, anything other than that had a tendency to spill in to my personal life. It was my firm belief that coworkers who invited other coworkers to lunch only wanted to gather information on how they conduct their private affairs. They pounced on the opportunity to gather information, no matter how minimal, so that they could spread toxic truths.

I expected the conversation to be light and awkward. A long hour of artificial smiles and dull conversation, yet it was not.

Alisa worked as my receptionist from day one of my practice launch, nearly two years ago and it was quickly brought to my attention how little I knew about her. I don’t mean in an invasive, tell me your business way, but on a surface level.

In addition to putting in ample hours at my practice she also mentored young girls and boys at a nonprofit lesbian, gay, bisexual and transgender organization outside the city. Her golden tone emitted a profound glow when she spoke of them, almost as though they were her own children.

She was originally from Texas, but moved here for school six years ago and never left. She finished her degree a year ago which prompted me to ask, “You have your degree? Why are you still working at the practice?”

It was only after I voiced the question that I realized the mistake in asking. I’m her boss, why would she tell me the truth?

                Her hazel eyes met mine when she replied, “Well, to be honest Ms. Kelly. I like working for you. You trust me and I trust you. You gave me a key to the office my first month here, you trust that I’ll do my job and I trust you’ll keep me until I decide it’s best to pursue other opportunities. You’re a good boss, I have no intentions on leaving.”

                My smile stretched to my temples, “You know, I’ve wanted to get involved with some community work –“

                She interrupted my spoken thoughts as she beamed, broadcasting the cutest dimple, “Ms. Kelly you have to come with me one day! Those kids need a voice like you…”

                Thankful for the compliment, my conscious focused on an element more pressing. Cute dimple?, I thought. My analysis disturbed me. I had not once considered anything about Alisa the least bit attractive. Not to abate her beauty, but the opinion of her attractiveness alarmed me. It forced me to consider my attraction to her, however minimal.

                I agreed, “I will. Sometime soon.”

She continued speaking about the teenagers she counseled and the hardships they faced, being rejected by family and society. I pretended to follow, but I still combed through my thoughts.

                 As her lips coiled over her words, I realized I was overreacting. It is beyond possible to find someone attractive and not lust for them. Alisa was beautiful, equipped with all the physicality’s needed to satiate anyone's sexual desires. I regarded her as attractive, beautiful, yet I craved the touch of another. The realization pulled at the edges of my smile. I craved another woman, I craved Maria. 

When the check came I insisted on paying the bill, but in many respects whether I paid or she paid, the funding was still coming from my bank account somewhere in the hierarchy.

***Please like this post on facebook, thanks*** 

-A. I. Lee

Hidden Intentions (An Excerpt)

To say that I was slightly discomforted as I parked my drop top convertible would have been severely understated. Vexed by my erotic exhibition the day before, I attempted to regain composure with a healthy dose of meditation. I closed my eyes and took deep breaths. I inhaled tranquil thoughts, while exhaling my shame.
The recollection was surreal, yet I was confident Maria witnessed my sensual display yesterday.
Looking in my rearview mirror, I noted the bright Honda. She was prompt, just as she had been the entire week.
When I entered my establishment I was immediately greeted by both Alisa and Maria. The fact that I had never once seen them take an interest in each other caught my attention. Alisa occupied her space behind the desk, while Maria leaned casually against it. They both regarded me as I entered.
                “Good Morning,” they harmonized.
                “Morning,” I replied.

To two looked like teenage girls hiding a secret from their mom. The constant glances to the other spoiled their underground intentions.

My expression was one of urgency when Maria took the lead and spoke.
                “The two of us were going to go to the new restaurant on Stevens Creek Boulevard, would you care to join?” The alacrity of her tone was obscure. For reasons I couldn’t identify, despite the directness of the invitation, the tone and uneven smile which permeated at the seam was mischievous.
I replied dubiously, “Maybe. Let me check my schedule.”

Her skeptic grin didn’t waver as she responded, “Well, that’s kind of what we were discussing. Making sure everyone’s schedule coalesced. We were sure to pick a time complimentary to all of our schedules.”

                “Oh?” I deliberated. “Well then, I don’t see why not.”

Clearly pleased with my response she buoyantly ambled to her office three doors down the narrow hallway.

My puzzlement spilled with more judgment than intended when I asked Alisa, “What’s she so happy about?”

                She shrugged identically compressed by her energy, “I have no idea.”

Rest. Relaxation. Self-Stimulation. (An Excerpt)

The evening neared to an exhausting close as I filed new patient correspondence. I had long abandoned my heels and stood with my weight shifted to my left hip as I organized.  I sighed observing the stacked pile of paperwork on my desk. I had delayed this process too long and now it would be a very long night.

Alisa poked her head in my office and yelled, “Goodnight Ms. Kelly.”

I turned unbalanced and echoed a goodnight as she retreated. She offered to stay later than the two hours she’d already committed, but I insisted she go home. The mess was mine to clean, by result of pure avoidance and procrastination.

I needed a minute to relax my feet, they ached from the constant walking throughout the day and prolonged standing as I organized. I stepped under my office doorframe and yelled, “Hello?”

I waited patiently for a response. Again, I questioned, “Hello.”

Still no one answered.

The coast was clear, I could rest awhile. Sitting in my burgundy leather office chair, I propped my feet atop the desk and reclined. Relaxed and rested I hummed to myself as my thoughts trailed.

Recalling the unpleasant memory of Keith, I searched for happier thoughts and I was surprised at my unconscious selection. Maria. Images of the way she bit her lips teased me. Further enticing was the way her skin felt on mine. She radiated warmth which traveled down between my thighs and caused my clit to throb. Beating like that of a heart, it pulsated aching for me to sooth the sensation.

Soon the tips of my fingers tugged against the button and zipper of my pants. They burrowed underneath my cotton laced thong. The sound of Maria’s voice saying my name made me lick my lips. The warmth between my legs excited me, but when I parted the labia shielding my inner treasure the moisture delivered me to new heights.

Extending my index finger I stroked the summit of my erection before descending deeper into the pool of liberation which saturated my inner thighs. Returning to my summit, I circle its peak. Firmly I pushed against it, stroking the sides and sliding from its top, down to the puddle below and ascending back to its top. I repeated the motion firmer and faster until my breathing paced and my moans escaped.

Heat engulfed me and is I started to orgasm a voice echoed through the hallway.

A shadow neared my office and I rushed to fasten my clothes before their arrival. Entering my office Maria said, “Ms. Kelly I-”

She paused and stared at me curiously. Sidetracked from her intended conversation she questioned, “Are you okay?”

“Of course,” I lied. “Just a little startled, I thought everyone had left for the evening.”

                “Oh?” She pondered. “Well, I’m just finishing up these documents and wanted to review them with you before I add them to our records.”

                “I’m sure they’re fine,” I replied.

                She nodded, “Sure. Okay,” and turned to exit into the narrow hallway. Sensing my uneasiness she turned to regard me once more, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

                “Absolutely,” I smiled.

She returned the expression and added, “Your hair.”

                “My hair?” I questioned.

                She pointed, “It’s sticking up.”

Just a little temptation.. (An Excerpt)

Back in my office, I returned to my article when again I was interrupted.

                “Ms. Kelly,” the voice was becoming undeniably sweet to my ears despite my irritation. The light accent stirred me against my will and brought a slight pulsation between my thighs.

                “Yes?” I replied.

                Maria stepped in my office and continued, “I wanted to speak with you about your 10AM appointment.”

                Motioning her to an open chair I encouraged, “I’m listening.”

                Taking a seat she said, “I know I said that they were a likely candidate and I still believe you can assist them, but I did more research on their case. It seems that the husband, Mr. Ross, had an affair with his secretary about two years ago.”

                I chided, “How could you have missed that Maria?”

                She defended, “As I said, I don’t believe that will negate your ability to help them.  They have seen a marriage counselor and I believe that their troubles are beyond that breach of distrust.”

                Diverting my attention back to the article and away from Maria, I closed the conversation with an indifferent, “Thank you for that information. Will that be all?”

                She failed to respond to my question and the silence was unsettling. Logic reassured me that Maria still remained occupied in the chair across from me but the stillness compelled me to confirm she didn’t mysteriously disappear.

She had waited for me to look up, so that she could speak.

When I looked up, she acknowledged me attentively. She spoke passionately, “Ms. Kelly, have you not felt an attraction so intense that it made you forget logic and reason. While your mind rejects the polluted thought, your body yearns for a touch, a kiss, a stroke from the object of your desire. You feel the pulsation between your thighs when they walk by or the stimulation of your clitoris when they speak. Have you ever felt that tug of sexual longing?” She paused.

Breaking eye contact she fished her thoughts while regarding the coffee cup which stood between us.

                She gnawed at the plumpness of her bottom before she returned her stare towards me and continued, “Mr. Ross gave into temptation and he paid the price. But he’s trying to make amends now to salvage his marriage. They’ve followed all the necessary steps, you are the final phase.”

                The intensity of her brown eyes spoke volume and she defended Mr. Ross with loyalty.

                Though I knew her defense carried subliminal meaning, I replied thoughtful, “I will consider your evaluation.”