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| Blogs > rm_SgCasanova > The Secret Casanova |
I wanna...at the office.
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I wanna...at the office. Haven’t been blogging much lately because of a change in station: new job, new environment, new faces to manage, go figure the works. Once I’m settled in, however, the new place feels like old times: an office with a view, me calling the shots, and of course, a bevy of lovely-looking sweet young things at work. The one who caught my attention, however, was a dishy MILF-y looking one in her late 30s. Actually, I’m not really sure if she’s a MILF, but she did have that hot wife/mother look around her. She seemed to have a penchant for wearing<b> lacy </font></b>tops under her jacket, and I’d love to catch her one day without her jacket on. We had a little brush on my second day at work when I found myself in the tight spaces of the pantry area on our floor just as she was making a brew. I found myself staring at the trace of her sexy tight ass against her skirt as she bent to adjust the strap of her heels, and as she straightened up, I walked into the pantry. We smiled at each other, exchanged pleasantries, and for because she stood in the way of the coffee sachets, I had to reach over, our bodies close for a moment, and I felt an impulse to just grab her and kiss her on her lips. She smelt really nice, and there was that little fleeting silent moment as we stood in the pantry close, the sort of sexual tension you get when you know there’s a possibility between you and the other party...the possibility that would lead to something else if not for the fact we both were still in the physical confines of an office. Since that day, it’s been the little game where we’d catch little looks from the other, and we haven’t really got to the lunching together or after-work drinks bit yet. I noticed she’d work late, and that could be the opener: me hanging around the office deliberately after work, and then walking over to her room for a little chat. After all, I am technically her superior at work, so there’s nothing wrong with getting to know my managers right? Only that, because I was the new guy around, I found a lot of getting together for drinks “with the boys”—never the women...yet. There are the younger ones, of course, the easy lays I’d say, so long as you bother to pay a little attention to them. I thought I’d start with the dishy dame in the room just right across mine. The thought of her bending over in that skirt, and the<b> lacy </font></b>tops under her jacket makes me just want to find a chance to get her close, take her clothes off and just look at her in her lingerie before proceeding to do what happens naturally to me in a situation like that. And I wonder if she’s thinking likewise too. |
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