Goosebumps

Goosebumps...

The room is chilled. Skin cold and tingly. All those hair follicles standing on end. I wonder what it would feel like to have my tongue licking the skin along the seems of her low V cut low sleeve fitted sweater that outline her breasts. Her tight firm breasts sitting perky and at attention. Her cleavage tempting desires beyond my reach. She tans, her skin is flawless, perfect...I can imagine it glistening moist from a hot steamy shower. She's looking at me, and I'm trying to listen. Between her mouth moving, her lips smacking, her hair laying board straight across her body, it's difficult to hold a conversation. It's difficult right now to pay attention. The blood is rushing to accommodate the bulge between my legs. She's married. She's flirty. She's REALLY friendly. She invited me to come down and talk to her to give her a break from work. She's tempting...ever so fucking tempting. We were alone for about 10 minutes before others entered the warehouse, but those 10 minutes felt like an eternity with everything else that was rushing through my head. Wondering what kind of bra she was wearing? What color panties? Does she swallow? Is she into anal? Could we get away with fucking here in the warehouse? Would she cheat on her husband? What does her hair smell like?

Maybe this is why I feel guilty when my office wife saw who I was talking too (earlier post) in IM. The chick I'm talking about above...is the warehouse girl that I've kept in the friend zone. What I say to her keeps me int he friendzone...I guess I should clarify...but what's going on in my head is anything but.

And tomorrow...we're going to lunch together...not the first time...and probably not the last...but you can imagine if 10 minutes has me thinking those things, what will an hour do.