With ten minutes to kill before your next meeting, you’re sitting in your office, scrolling, wandering the internet in hopes of finding something with just the right amount of distraction. Not too enveloping, nor too trite.
It started with my legs. A glimpse of red painted toes, encased in smooth sheer stockings. You could almost imagine sliding your hand the length of them, the muscles of my calves, the soft curve under my knee just ticklish enough to elicit a giggle. My lips parting as you reach my thighs and knead them just a touch, your fingers making me moan though we’ve barely started.
When you reach the tops of my stockings, the lace wrapping my leg entices you further, and you find yourself leaning in, hungry for what comes next.
The chime of your phone, alerting you that your meeting is about to start pulls you from the reverie, and you groan, pushing your hand against that part of you that already knows how good what comes next will be. Taking a deep breath and a large drink of water, you get yourself back to a calmer place, but take a moment to bookmark that photo, knowing that the next time you visit, you’ll make sure we’re not interrupted.