I'm trying to be a cool employee while I'm still here. I don't know exactly when my time here will end and my time in a big rig begins, so I better be a team player in the meantime. Not so much that I look like I'm brown-nosing, but some of y'all know the happy medium. So, when I get e-mail about volunteering for a project about our company's website, I go for it. How hard can it be? I won't go into details because I try to be as professional as possible (although I'm wearing jogging pants and a sorority tee as I type), but it's quite easy and would make me look good just for volunteering for a mundane task.
At 3 PM, I have to attend the meeting with Yoga Guy. From what I hear, he's a biz wiz, but he's also a master yoga instructor. Yoga Guy must be for real because he's always so calm and serene in Lunch and Learn meetings when telling our small group how our company has the best product in our field. Let the VP of Sales tell the same deal to the same people, and you'd think he was earning the commission of a lifetime. All of Yoga Guy's serenity makes me think of Mr. Rogers without the cardigan and trolley. So, I enter his sweatbox of an office where I can imagine him in various yoga positions throughout the day as he takes advantage of the heat. He calls in the head IT person to help explain my part of the project. It's crystal clear what I'm doing.
Then, IT guy and Yoga Guy get into some other "meta" talk. HTML content appears on the screen, Yoga Guy starts highlighting, and I can literally hear Beavis saying, "Words, words, words, words...." This means nothing to me, so I start to check out of the meeting from my seat.
My mind miraculously flitters to Bones. My heart didn't start thinking of how much I like him or how I rank him about a 7 in the face. As most minds tend to do during the day, my reverie settled on the last time we touched in a special way. There was no sex because it's too early for that. But there's something my older gentleman friend does to me, coupled with the personality chemistry, that makes me even more sensitive to his touches, kisses, licks, and whatever else he can come up with. The last time we got together, I got down to my unmentionables, and he got me to writhing in pleasure, cooing in ectasy, and tugging at the bed linens. Bones surprisingly drove me over the edge when he bit my inner thigh coupled with two other moves at the same time. My first real orgasm without taking off my underwear or having one of God's masterpieces inside of me or all over and around my "flower".
The only thing that made sense at the time was to return the favor to Bones. Nibbling on ears, kissing and sucking on his neck, caressing his nipples and all over his chocolate legs. My hands found a hot spot that was not standing at attention, so I worked that spot so I could blow his mind while avoiding the label of being a tease. The power and pleasure that I felt when Bones was breathing hard, then loudly moaning, then almost screaming made me work that much more at pleasing him.
While I returned to nibble and lick all over his ear again, Bones suddenly could speak English again. "What do you want from me?" he panted out.
Without thinking of games or his impression of me, I immediately gave him the truest and simplest answer in a breathy whisper: "You."
This seemed to take him to a new point, and it drove me even more at devising new variations of attacking Bones with my hands and mouth. It wasn't long before he was at an ecstatic point like I had been. We cuddled together, whispered a few more thoughts, and drifted to sleep. I awoke in the morning, and finally parted ways with the new skip in my heartbeat.
In the middle of the reverie in Yoga Guy's office, I had a half-second of clarity. That breathy answer of "You" might have been the tip of the iceberg that potentally did in a budding relationship. I came to that realization based on what I read in the book: "Men like mystery. You can't give away too much too soon, physically, emotionally, or otherwise." I gave him my honest heartfelt answer after a few weeks of good times together, not a mysteriously seductive answer like, "Wouldn't you like to know what I want from you?" I could hear such a cool response coming from me, and my imagination rewarded me with the possible sound of Bones going crazy over not knowing what was going on but already knowing he wanted to keep working to get to the bottom of it. My simple answer of "You" had already removed a lot of necessity to work hard because he already had me panting for him because he already knew I was ready for him. Already. Probably ahead of what someone might consider a normal timefram. Probably too fast for his age group (um...45 - 60; not 59 and a 1/2, but I'm not saying). Nowhere close to cool and composed because my heart was completely accessible to him with some effort but not all of the effort that books and real conversations with men would lead to believe that an interested man requires.
By the time I blinked out of my moment of reflection, I felt numb. I didn't hear the rest of the "meta" talk. I just heard, "Damn."
Even as I'm typing, I'm still hearing, "Damn," because I still like Bones. However, after 6 days without an acknowledgement from him, I have to allow myself to feel the pain of his absence and the silent rejection. Interestingly, I received two calls in two days from two guys (including Nutcase) I don't give a damn about, so those calls don't relieve any of the pain. It's odd feeling this much emotion for someone I was not officially involved with, but it is what it is. Damn.
So, I have to be one of those girls in the advice books that I aspire to be. Recognize the hurt, shed a tear, and keep moving. Lastly, I'm keeping the advice of my late cousin, DeWayne, in mind: If he calls, he calls. If he doesn't, don't worry about it. Just keep moving without focusing on him, worrying about him, or daring to call him. I still remember those words from the last conversation I had with him, so I'll keep those words close to me. Those words are closer than Bones' phone numbers because those have been deleted from the phone. I'm not calling.
Epiphany indeed.
My mind miraculously flitters to Bones. My heart didn't start thinking of how much I like him or how I rank him about a 7 in the face. As most minds tend to do during the day, my reverie settled on the last time we touched in a special way. There was no sex because it's too early for that. But there's something my older gentleman friend does to me, coupled with the personality chemistry, that makes me even more sensitive to his touches, kisses, licks, and whatever else he can come up with. The last time we got together, I got down to my unmentionables, and he got me to writhing in pleasure, cooing in ectasy, and tugging at the bed linens. Bones surprisingly drove me over the edge when he bit my inner thigh coupled with two other moves at the same time. My first real orgasm without taking off my underwear or having one of God's masterpieces inside of me or all over and around my "flower".
The only thing that made sense at the time was to return the favor to Bones. Nibbling on ears, kissing and sucking on his neck, caressing his nipples and all over his chocolate legs. My hands found a hot spot that was not standing at attention, so I worked that spot so I could blow his mind while avoiding the label of being a tease. The power and pleasure that I felt when Bones was breathing hard, then loudly moaning, then almost screaming made me work that much more at pleasing him.
While I returned to nibble and lick all over his ear again, Bones suddenly could speak English again. "What do you want from me?" he panted out.
Without thinking of games or his impression of me, I immediately gave him the truest and simplest answer in a breathy whisper: "You."
This seemed to take him to a new point, and it drove me even more at devising new variations of attacking Bones with my hands and mouth. It wasn't long before he was at an ecstatic point like I had been. We cuddled together, whispered a few more thoughts, and drifted to sleep. I awoke in the morning, and finally parted ways with the new skip in my heartbeat.
In the middle of the reverie in Yoga Guy's office, I had a half-second of clarity. That breathy answer of "You" might have been the tip of the iceberg that potentally did in a budding relationship. I came to that realization based on what I read in the book: "Men like mystery. You can't give away too much too soon, physically, emotionally, or otherwise." I gave him my honest heartfelt answer after a few weeks of good times together, not a mysteriously seductive answer like, "Wouldn't you like to know what I want from you?" I could hear such a cool response coming from me, and my imagination rewarded me with the possible sound of Bones going crazy over not knowing what was going on but already knowing he wanted to keep working to get to the bottom of it. My simple answer of "You" had already removed a lot of necessity to work hard because he already had me panting for him because he already knew I was ready for him. Already. Probably ahead of what someone might consider a normal timefram. Probably too fast for his age group (um...45 - 60; not 59 and a 1/2, but I'm not saying). Nowhere close to cool and composed because my heart was completely accessible to him with some effort but not all of the effort that books and real conversations with men would lead to believe that an interested man requires.
By the time I blinked out of my moment of reflection, I felt numb. I didn't hear the rest of the "meta" talk. I just heard, "Damn."
Even as I'm typing, I'm still hearing, "Damn," because I still like Bones. However, after 6 days without an acknowledgement from him, I have to allow myself to feel the pain of his absence and the silent rejection. Interestingly, I received two calls in two days from two guys (including Nutcase) I don't give a damn about, so those calls don't relieve any of the pain. It's odd feeling this much emotion for someone I was not officially involved with, but it is what it is. Damn.
So, I have to be one of those girls in the advice books that I aspire to be. Recognize the hurt, shed a tear, and keep moving. Lastly, I'm keeping the advice of my late cousin, DeWayne, in mind: If he calls, he calls. If he doesn't, don't worry about it. Just keep moving without focusing on him, worrying about him, or daring to call him. I still remember those words from the last conversation I had with him, so I'll keep those words close to me. Those words are closer than Bones' phone numbers because those have been deleted from the phone. I'm not calling.
Epiphany indeed.
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