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25 Mayıs 2023, 23:15
They were like figure skaters out on a wintry lake, swirling around, sometimes touching, sometimes apart, but always a pair gradually moving farther and farther from the shore, onto thinner and thinner ice.* For more than half a decade, when the ice creaked under them, one or the other would scurry back to thicker, safer ground. Until, on a chilly Friday night, when they plunged into water that was simultaneously frigid and boiling hot.**Scott first saw Vanessa from across the office suite. She was somewhere in her mid-twenties, with long light brown hair pulled into a French braid.* From the distance of fifty feet, and through the glass of a conference room, what caught his eye most were her long, toned legs.* She was on the funky, sexy edge of both the company dress code and the fashion of the time.* She wore gray suede pumps with a fluted heel, a pleated black skirt that terminated at mid-thigh, and a bright red belt that contrasted with a simple white blouse.*She was carrying a cardboard banker?s box apparently filled with something heavy. With a look of disgust she tossed it on the small round table next to her workstation.?Fuck!? she loudly groaned, apparently not caring a bit that she could be heard across much of the office.*Damn, Scott thought to himself, Who the hell is that? *He made sure that one of his new co-workers introduced them later in the day.* Vanessa shook Scott?s hand firmly and met his gaze with a dimpled smile that was simultaneously incredibly warm and just a tad smirky. He struggled to maintain contact exclusively with her warm, light brown eyes, but found himself slipping briefly to take in a glance at those amazing legs. She didn?t seem to notice, though she told him years later that she totally had.* She made him laugh hard twice in as many minutes and then they were done.* But he could not get her out of his mind.**Scott was married, and generally neither https://escortium.org (https://escortium.org/) a douche nor a philanderer, but as he drove home that evening all he could think about was Vanessa.* And her smile. And those legs.* His commute passed quickly as he imagined taking Vanessa right there in her cube. Kissing her long neck, making his way down the V of her blouse, freeing her nipples from their small lace bra.* He imagined backing her against her desk as they kissed, then dropping to his knees, feeling her smooth firm thighs with his lips, nuzzling her mound through what he imagined to be a lacy white thong, savoring the first smell of her, then pushing the thong aside and tasting her.* The fantasy circled around in his semi-conscious mind, landing slightly differently in each version. As he pulled into his driveway, he was fucking Vanessa from behind as she braced herself against her desk, groaning ?Fuck!? over and over.* Scott didn?t even fully realize how immersed in his thoughts of Vanessa he had become until he went to get out of the car, and had to adjust the boner in his pants to do it.**Vanessa?s attraction for Scott came more slowly.* She was a newlywed.* She was being well fucked at home.* She wasn?t above admiring handsome men, but at work that was kind of icky, and she had better things to do with her mental energy. Scott was handsome enough.* Tall.* Brown on brown like her.* A couple of years older than she.* Good hair.* Hands that were large and yet delicate somehow.* She liked hands.* But mostly, he was funny.* And smart.* And good at his job.* She liked working with him.* That was really it.* Until it wasn?t.*What?s the old axiom? Women find sex through intimacy, men find intimacy through sex ? ?* Something like that.*Unlike Scott, she wasn?t rubbing one out in the bathroom thinking about her co-worker.* Until she was.They had worked together for two years before Vanessa realized that she might have ?other? feelings for Scott.* Most people in the office knew it before she did.* They had lunch together, a lot.* They finished each other?s sentences, all the time.* They laughed at jokes that no one else got.* They were ?work spouses.? You know the type.* And if you check the data, work husbands and wives end up fucking at least half the time.**Vanessa finally figured out what was going on in her own subconscious based on a dream.* A sex dream.* She had them now and then, like anyone else.* But this time instead of her husband, or a famous actor, or some guy from her past, it was Scott. And it was good.* And it was one of those dreams that you wake up from, smile to yourself, and then re-enter when you fall back asleep.**They were in an office, not their office, a much bigger, fancier office.* The dream started as a classic ?underwear in public? dream, with Vanessa realizing upon exiting the elevator that she had forgotten to put on a dress and was suddenly in the middle of the office in lavender lingerie.* She alternately tried to explain herself to others, or hide behind potted plants, and as the dream progressed she wore less and less, until she was walking between desks in nothing but kitten-heeled pumps and her grandmother?s pearl necklace.* Eventually Scott showed up in the dream.* Unlike others, he was not at all surprised or taken aback at her naked state.* He talked about work.* The dream version of Vanessa became frustrated at the Dream Scott?s lack of attention, and so she crawled atop his desk and posed with an exaggerated arched back.?Do you want to fuck me or not?? Dream Vanessa asked with irritation, looking back at him over her shoulder from her all-fours position.Dream Scott responded as she intended, fondling, kissing and licking her ass.*The dream suddenly jumped to a generic hotel room. Vanessa was pressed against the large plate glass window, peering down at lights of other buildings, while Scott fucked her from behind.?Is this what you were looking for?? Dream Scott asked as he held onto Vanessa?s waist and thrust into her with long, steady strokes. ?All you had to do was ask.?That?s when she woke the first time, as her conscious mind realized she was lightly moaning and undulating her pelvis in her sleep.* Vanessa ? the actual Vanessa ? found herself happy, and wet, at the thought of it all.**When she drifted back to sleep and the dream relapsed, the two were in a car.* A really big car that neither one of them actually owned. It was like a Rolls Royce or a limo or something.* She had Scott in her mouth, and she was sucking him slowly and lovingly. His cock was big.* Not really a kink of hers but for whatever reason in this dream he was big.* Bigger than her husband, at least.* Scott rocked gently, and moaned in pleasure, and Vanessa was enjoying the feel of his cock in her throat, and she was excited that Scott was enjoying her performance.*At some point they were on a sofa, no longer in a car, and they were in a sixty-nine.* Vanessa felt her own orgasm coming on at the same time that Scott was on the verge of shooting into her mouth.* She woke as she had the first time, realizing she was rubbing her tongue against the roof of her mouth and that her hand was between her legs.**The next day, and for a week or two after, Vanessa avoided Scott as much as she could. And then one morning, after an especially patchy fight with her husband the night before, Vanessa stood at her closet, uncharacteristically hesitating at what to put on.* Slowly at first, and then with speedy inspiration, she picked out clothes specifically for Scott.* She chose a bright sleeveless dress, not really a cocktail dress, but not really fit for work either, more ?afternoon garden party.? It showed her tanned arms, and a bit of cleavage, and most importantly, her legs, which she knew Scott coveted.