"Good times." He couldn't help repeating it in his mind, over and over and over. Like an infectious 80's song by Air Supply. "Good times." Stefan usually loved his evening shower. It was when he could tune out the rest of the world and think. Some of his best ideas came to him in the shower; but not this time. This time he just stood there with the hot water running over his body, steam filling his lungs, listening to the echo in his head, "Good times!" He first heard it earlier that day and now it consumed him. The more he thought about it the more he wanted to grab the hair conditioner and jack it away.
It's not that he was a big fan of getting himself off. In fact he really had no reason to be. He had a beautiful wife who was more than willing to "assist" him whenever, or wherever, he needed. He was not shy about taking her up on her "hospitality" either. But he knew that he made slight grunting noises when he shot his load, so jacking off at that moment was sure to get her attention as she laid in bed in the very next room half asleep, watching someone cook something or paint or sew. With his luck, she'd peek in the shower just as he sent the first jet of hot cream sailing through the air and onto the shower wall. What would he say then? How do you explain that to your wife? Besides, after what took place earlier that day, he didn't know if he would be capable of cumming yet again.
Stefan closed his eyes and let the water flood over him hoping to cool down a bit before venturing out of the bathroom. As he began again to recall the events of earlier he did so not knowing whether or not his hand would venture to his slowly growing manhood on its own. It all began first thing that morning.
His wife had gotten an early start and headed to work without saying anything. She was gone by the time he rolled into the kitchen. It was quiet in the house and it looked to be another normal, uneventful, boring day at the grindstone. As he sipped his coffee and read the paper he secretly plotted how he might keep from going to work. He could "accidentally" slam his hand in the door and need to take the day off because of the excruciating pain and maybe even a cast. "That's stupid", he thought to himself. "I'm not gonna purposely crush my own hand!" What if he just called in sick, like his teen idol, Ferris Bueller, and spent the day running around town with Cameron. "I don't even know anyone named 'Cameron'."
His scheming wasn't working very well and the only thing happening was that he was getting closer and closer to being late to work. His track record was not that great anyway so why chance losing his job? He didn't dislike his job. It paid well, and with the salary his wife brought in they lived a pretty good life and were able to afford everything they thought they wanted. And he certainly didn't dislike his co-workers. He had some pretty good friends at work and hung out with them once in a while, like company picnics and such. And, of course, there was Loretta. She was best thing about working at the firm and the reason he usually couldn't concentrate. A good bit of his time each day was spent thinking about her. Some days she just made it hard to think at all.
Loretta had attended law school in California. Stefan went to a mid-west school. They both joined the firm at about the same time and were assigned offices just down the hall from one another so he got at least one good look at her each day as she wandered to the filing room or went to get some water or just strolled around and chatted with their co-workers. She was very outgoing and he liked that about her. She was easy to be around. From their very first meeting, Stefan found her to be distracting, to say the least. She had gorgeous dark blue eyes that could stop a man dead in his tracks, or in his shorts if she wanted. If she happened to look at him just right, he'd have to hide behind something to keep anyone from seeing his enormous and immediate hard-on.
Her shoulder length strawberry blond hair was always perfectly styled and the way it hung around her beautiful face automatically drew Stefan's eye to her awesome tits. They were obviously real and simply inspirational. Wars have started over lesser boobs. These were nothing shy of perfect in his eyes. Not a few of his minutes each day were spent pondering those goddess-like knockers. Frankly, she was perfect all over. Her legs were no less perfect to him. Long as the day and made for staring. He thought about kissing her thighs and sliding his hand up to her well trimmed bush. And the thought of fingering..."concentrate, man," he almost yelled out loud, "you'll never make it to work alive driving like this."
Stefan arrived at work with moments to spare. Unfortunately for him the combination of moving quickly and fantasizing about Loretta left him with a raging pair of blue-balls that caused him to nearly limp through the front door of the firm. He strolled as casually as he could, hoping no one would notice his discomfort. As he passed his secretary's desk he grabbed a small pile of messages from half a dozen clients and began thumbing through them.
"Perhaps I can stay busy enough to keep my head in the game until lunch," he thought, heading to the break room to grab a cup of Joe while prioritizing the calls he would have to make that morning. Halfway into filling his cup Loretta strolled into the room. The way she walked insisted that anyone with a cock within 20 feet had to stop and watch. She was simply mesmerizing. She had her hair pulled back in a very professional, almost matronly, style that showed her face, neck and ears. Her outfit consisted of a simple white button up shirt with no sleeves and a black, knee length pencil skirt. The image of the tall, confident woman was only highlighted by her choice of black leather high heels that made Stefan think of little more than feeling those shoes resting on his shoulders. Her skirt was slit about halfway up one side and the front of her shirt was opened just enough to reveal only the very uppermost bit of cleavage. Nothing was clearly visible but sensing even a small portion of her girls practically forced Stefan to try and catch a peek. He wasn't sure if he was imagining it, but he thought he could see a bit of lace peeking out from behind her lapel. The next thing he knew, a voice broke his trance.
"Like what you see?" Loretta asked.
In the course of the next one millionth of a second the thought to himself, "There is no way I was staring. Crap! Think of something funny to say." Then holding his cup up a little higher he stated matter-of-factly, "Coffee!"
As he slipped back to his office he privately castigated himself, certain he could not look more stupid. An hour or so later he had regained most of his composure and headed to the copy machine. Loretta was there. Their eyes met and she gave Stefan a little smile. He wouldn't have thought anything of it until she stooped to pick up her copies and appeared to offer Stefan a near full view of her perfect tits.
As she stood, their eyes met again and she smiled knowingly and politely said, "See ya."
Quickly he made his copies and headed back to his desk.
Once in his office he said to himself, "I have got to call my wife." Just then Loretta appeared in his doorway.
"What are you doing for lunch?" she asked.
"Tying up a few loose ends here. You?"
"Me, too," she replied.
Something hung in the air and Stefan wanted to figure it out. He decided to explore his options.
"I'm gonna order out. Wanna join me?"
