work ethics

I see him everyday at work. he doesn't talk more than necessary. He's very serious and his job seems to be his life's focus. He smokes too much. I can smell his smoky atmospherical print even without him being there anymore.
He's been business friendly to me when I first met him. He stopped talking to me when he exhausted business matters. He meets me in the hallways, never says Hello, never stops and definately avoids eye contact.
I thought about him. I tried to imagine how he sees me, if he sees me at all.
"You smiled yesterday. You even looked me in the eyes talking to me about some computer that needs new wiring. You explained very patiently what I couldn't understand, then you walked away.
You bumped into me inside the elevator. A lingering second you didn't move, didn't breathe, just looked at me. the elevator moved and you looked away. What were you thinking? Did you want the elevator to stop? You wanted to kiss me, didn't you?
Today was a busy day. everybody was running around trying to get things done. You yelled at some people. I could hear you from my office. You bumped into me again. This time you even stepped on my shoe, which I didn't appreciate, cause these shoes were new. You grabbed my elbows and asked me if I was OK. in a smoky breath. sure I was. NO, I said. You smiled again.
YOu think of me don't you? I bet you want to fuck me. I caught you staring at my breast. YOu'd want to push me against the wall and feel me, cause you've been wondering what I feel like. You maybe even fantasized about me already. Did you come thinking of my lips? my boobs? my ass? did you tell yourself that you can't approach me because of work ethics? you did well. I'm trouble. I could break your heart, if you let me. you're doing the right thing not talking to me, cause I'll take that and turn it into hell. I know it's just a matter of time before you'll do something. Anything. I'll just wait."

threesome gone bananas

A invited me to Vegas. I went. We stayed in a five star hotel, had a great day. All was wonderful up until a certain point: dinner. We went to a sushi place ridiculously overpriced.
Now, as a premise, you've got to understand that A is a typical Hollywood girl: Fake boobs, never eats, has breakfast with Mountain Dew and maybe a power bar she will vomit five minutes later. She's a lot of fun before she drinks, then she turns into a violent freak. She knows her comedy and can easily entertain a crowd. She had 2 bottles of wine over dinner that night.
After dinner we met with one of her best friends and went to his room. The Man is middle aged, slightly out of shape, but sweet and playful. A got naked and invited him to do the same. I was watching. She signaled me that it was OK for me to join in. So I did. I started playing with her and she was making all the sex faces and moaning to the rythm of the game. I played with him, and things were great. He climaxed without having sex with any of us, so I took his head and put it in between my legs.
A jumps out of bed, calls me a "bitch" and storms out the door. Needless to say both the Man and I remained there in shock. However, I had him finish what he had started. I then put some clothes on and went to find A. She was back in our room. Didn't want to open the door. Had to call Security to let me in. She picked a huge fight right in front of the 2 security people. She told me that the Man was like her brother, how dare I to touch him and so on.
I picked up my luggage and left the room. Stayed with another friend and left for Los Angeles the morning after.
One month later I receive an e-mail from A saying: "I can't believe you never called me to apologize for what you did in vegas... The Man was like my brother...your behavior was despicable..."
Now, I don't know what kind of family she grew up in, but in my family we don't give hand jobs to our brothers. Also, my behavior seemed to be encouraged by hers at the time it happened, As for the Man, I'm pretty sure he knew what he was doing.
Further information from common friends taught me that the Man was no other than her happily married boss, and she's been entertaining him on the side for quiet some time.
Morale of the story: walking on the wrong side walk, may lead you to a hooker's territory, and once you're on it, love becomes a hustle for the highest price.

talking to you

I played and replayed the scene in my mind. you can call it obsession. you're playing your guitar on the couch and singing along. I wanna talk to you. jenn just walked out the door. she forgot her bag. she always does.
I asked you something. you shut me up with a kiss. and just like that you make me forget things. jenn rings the doorbell to get her purse. you walk outside covering the bulge in your pants and give her the purse. as you turn around you push me onto the couch. I still wanna talk. you're not answering. you're just staring and doing things with your hands. the dress I really liked though. you tore it like it was paper.
"talk to me" I said. you pulled down your pants, not even all the way, just to your knees. took my underwear off and fucked me. furiously. as if you met me for the first time. you sighed when you came. like a great weight has been taken off your shoulders.
we laid there quitely for about 20 minutes, then you started touching me again. this time you were still and told me: "I want you to sit on it". time stopped and I took you in slowly. so slowly that you became impatient and moved your hips to get inside faster. you're still staring. this kind of orgasm has to have a name, my friend. this kind of orgasm has to be called Victory. cause it drained me, it had me shaking and quiet frankly I was light headed for about 5 minutes. you didn't let me pull away from you. You jealously kept me tight to your skin until you came screaming.
I walked to the kitchen to get some water. you followed me and told me you're hungry. I was hungry too, but the fridge was empty. your cock was still leaking. I had to take it in my mouth and it started growing, until you got that sex face on again. you just spread my legs and fucked me right there, on the kitchen table.
you took the guitar in your hands and played a little lullaby for me. come to think of it, I just wanted to talk.