Well.. the saga of James continues. We broke up rather recently, dear readers. This is April, and he and I stopped seeing each other in February. Since we work together, I've dealt with all the issues that go along with that. Mind you, I don't recommend dating someone you work with, but I wasn't working with him when we were sleeping together. Unfortunately, that job transfer came in the middle of things. Yes, dear readers, I'm not longer in the public education field, thank you God and Goddess. I got tired of close-minded small natured people.
I tried to be mature about it. I knew that I didn't want any gossip or troubles about us floating around. The nature of the plant I work is that there are 9 women and about 100 men, and the men gossip worse than the ladies! It amazed me at first, but now I just now how to fan or halt them as I wish. I've never hidden my nature, even though I work in a small-ish company. Most of my closest coworkers know my preferences and how open sexually I am, and they all unfortunately know about James. I couldn't keep my eyes off him for the longest time. Those long legs (he's 6'9!) in tight jeans, spread open as he was on his back sliding around under a truck would make me wet as I walked by. I could smell him, even on the floor, his cologne, and I'd tingle. The section of the upstairs I work in has a one-way mirror so that the engineers can look down and watch the chassis coming in and the trucks being built. I would see him trotting around working on the trucks or welding the steel; it was horrid for concentration.
The end finally came after we had a hard time seeing each other in the time constrains and the weather constraints. Once winter hit, him living across town was a pain in the ass. Also, his ex girlfriend who was the mother of his youngest son was kicked out of her apartment. Not wanting his son to be on the street, he let her move in. I knew they were back together, I could see the way he was avoiding me, but hearing him say it still hurt. But, I knew it was best for the baby. A child deserves both parents if possible.
After we broke up, I tried to maintain a professional friendship. I never said anything negative about him, I know he did the same to most the people I was friends with. However, I heard over and over again that he was watching me. I've told you friends, that I'm not a skinny little thing, and a lot of men don't have a preference for that. They like their women built like twigs with bumps. I however have full milky thighs and breasts and round, curvy hips that are built for having babies. I would on the floor, be going through a pre-paint inspection on a truck and see him hovering nearby, supposedly busy. He'd stand and stare as I walked up the stairs to work, or end up behind me in line for the chow truck.
I got a phone call a few weeks ago. Very simply an "I miss you we're still friends, we can do stuff as friends" sort of call. I asked for his help with something that needed fixed in my home and he actually did it. I was so pleased. We spent time just sitting in my room chatting. He touched me on my legs and arms, but didn't do anything untoward. I wasn't sure how to take it. Last Friday however, I received a phone call from him asking about this weekend, wanting to know if he could stop by and see me. And that's when the fun began.
When he came in, I was putting my son (whom he knows) to bed, so they chatted for a while. I knew in the back of my mind that I'd have him between my thighs before the end of the night, so I had dressed accordingly. I hate bras, my breasts are large and full, and they're just constricting, so I wasn't wearing one. I had put on a long black knit dress with no panties when I got out of the shower, and just made sure to put lots of lotion on so my skin was very soft and smooth.
"Where's my hug?" he asked, when my son had finally shut his door and gone to bed. I smiled to myself. This was going easily. I gave him his hug and felt him sniff my hair. I'm only 5'6; my head comes to barely mid chest on him.
We sat on my couch and chatted for a while, relaxing while watching The Simpsons. Every time one of us got up to do something, he would move closer and closer to me. Finally, he laid his head on my chest and snuggled. I had missed this and I knew where it was leading. I felt his hand slide up my knee, up past my thigh, and onto my tummy. He was rubbing my stomach and nuzzling my neck. I could feel myself getting wetter. I slowly moved my thighs apart and he slid his hand to my pussy. He lifted his head and looked at me.
"Are you ok with this?" he asked. Was I? Did it make me a bad person to know he was touching me and living with her? I didn't care either way, but the thought ran through my head. I could feel him push his hard thick cock against my thighs, which were on his lap.
"Yes, I am," I said, and spread my legs and shifted my hips. He slid those thick fingers down and inside me, rubbing my clit like an expert. He kissed me, hard, passionate, and full on the lips like I like it, rubbing my clit in time to the movement of his tongue in my mouth. He leaned over and watched his fingers play with me as I laid my head back on the sofa and moaned softly.
