Touching your leg, and running my hand up under your skirt. Letting my thumb caress the top of your opening while I never look up from my desk. Trying to break your speech while you fill me in on the days plans. You never say a word, or complain in fear of being fired, but secretly enjoying it enough to occasionally show up at work without panties. Hoping that I'll touch you that day. Finally giving into your urges, and straddling me in my chair. Telling me that I'm going to go down on her until you're satisfied or your're going to tell my wife. So, I've got a choice to make here. Act professional, and never touch you again, or do as you say. Straddling and kissing me with intense desire I can't help but give in to your demands. Secretly i want to be told what to do. My hands run up the outside of your legs and push your sexy skirt up to your hips. Slipping off your red bottoms, you then place your feet on the arms of my chair, and sit on the edge of my desk. Looking into my brown. Well, not exactly her hand. He held her hand, but he seemed to be pulling her so she was pressed against him. She recognized it as a kind of proprietary clutch and hold at the same time. Like he was afraid she would run. No way was she running today. As they approached the front doors no one seemed to pay any attention to them, and she thought this was a little odd. Remembering from her own younger church going days new people usually got the once over. That typically meant the casual side-glances, a few nonchalant smiles, an occasional hello, and at least one or two fulsome greetings from among the more energetic members. Bob walked her inside and down a side aisle. The church wasn’t very big once they got inside. It was wider than it was long, perhaps fifteen pews, about twenty feet wide on either side of the main aisle. There was seating set aside on the front left for a choir, and an organ, it looked like a nice one, maybe a Mueller. Though the place was fairly crowded, the pew.
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