It all started when she wore that shirt. I had been spending almost 10 hours a week with Emily for over 2 months and never felt any attraction until she wore that shirt. Anyone would call her pretty: straight light brown hair a few inches past her shoulders, eyes that were some combination of blue and green, an average body with a slight hourglass figure. Because I knew her from her volunteering at the animal shelter where I work, I had only seen her in jeans and t-shirts, usually from the men's department because they were more comfortable and geeky. I stared right at her chest several times commenting on the 90's TV show characters on the front of those t-shirts, but never had a sexual inclination.
Ironically, when the weather got colder, I saw more skin. On that fateful day, she wore a black long-sleeve shirt with buttons from around the bottom to the top of her sternum. Of the 5 buttons, the top 3 were undone and I was treated to an amazing view of her cleavage when she bent down to clean one of the bottom cat cages. She was either oblivious or so used to men staring that she ignored my eyes lingering.
For the next two hours, I admired her body as discreetly as I could. Her breasts were my main focal point. I won't pretend to know anything about bra sizes, but they looked to be a little more than a handful and supported by a bra that left the smallest space between them. Just above them was a defined collarbone that was more appealing than I could have expected, leading up to a slender neck. When I stood behind her, it took all my willpower not to nibble at her neck and earlobes. Instead, I smelled the slight seemingly-impossible scent of apple and coconut of her hair. I pulled myself away and went to work in another room to try to control this sudden lust.
It wasn't long before she finished cleaning all the cages in the first room and joined me in the other room. As we worked, I admired her from a distance, realizing I almost lost control earlier. I was noticing the length of her legs when she bent over and gave me a wonderful view of her ass. It was round and firm, not in a going-to-the-gym-every-day kind of way, but in a not-afraid-of-manual-labor kind of way. It seemed like I had seen everything, then she turned to talk to me. In my awkward attempt to not get caught staring, I landed my eyes on her lips. They were forming words, but I didn't hear them. I was watching them move, noticing how naturally full and dark pink they were and considering how good they would feel on various parts of my body, when I realized she had stopped talking and was looking at me quizzically. I knew I couldn't just smile and nod my way out of this.
"Sorry, I...uh, zoned out there. What did you say?"
"Can I let Voldemort out, or is he terrorizing the other cats still?" She asked it so innocently that I hoped she couldn't tell where my mind had just gone.
"You might as well. He's never a problem when you're in here anyway. You're the cat whisperer." We both smiled at my horrible joke, knowing there was truth to it. She was asking about a fat black cat that hissed and scratched at everyone, but nuzzled up to her. She never really had problems with the animals and was even sympathetic towards those that scratched or nipped at her. An animal person myself, it was a quality I always found endearing.
I think I succeeded in acting normal, but it was a relief when she left. I buried myself in paperwork until 5pm and blared the radio on the drive home as a distraction. The second I stepped inside my house, my mind immediately turned back to Emily. I fell onto my bed, closed my eyes, and let my imagination take over, figuring I could get it out of my system. I remembered each bit of her I looked at earlier in order, letting my hand wander under my waistband. It only took a few stroked and the memory of the view down her shirt to finish. I drifted off to sleep satisfied that I had taken care of that problem.
She only volunteered three days a week, so I didn't see her the next day. My mind didn't wander to thoughts of Emily and I assumed I was cured of whatever had come over me. I realized how wrong I was when I saw her the next day. There was no cleavage, but she wore a long-sleeve shirt with a wide neck that fell off one shoulder. How can a shoulder be so attractive? I struggled through 15 minutes until by some stroke of luck, I had to go out on a lost dog call. I was gone long enough that she had already left by the time I got back. Thursday passed without her coming in, and I thought I was prepared to see her Friday.
On Friday, Emily was back to her boyish clothes, wearing a hooded sweatshirt, which helped me forget everything I had thought of her for the last few days. We were talking and joking as usual and I thought everything was normal again. Of course that didn't last long.
"It's a lot warmer than I expected today," Emily commented. I didn't even have a chance to respond before she was pulling her sweatshirt over her head, exposing a little sliver of her stomach. As if that wasn't bad enough, instead of one of her usual t-shirts underneath, she had on a tank top that revealed more than I had ever seen. All I could think of to do was mumble something about paperwork and retreat to the office. This continued for weeks.
I'm not a coward. Under normal circumstances, I would have made a move or at least flirted a little. But, Emily unfortunately had a fiance. There was no reason for him to think I was a threat since she had plenty of guy friends, and he figured I was just one of them. I had a guilty mind, but I would never interfere in a happy relationship. I knew it was happy because half of the stories Emily told me were about him and what the two of them had been doing. She rarely complained and she couldn't hold back a smile when she talked about him. I regretted ruining our friendship, but I avoided her to keep my urges under control.
I had barely seen her or talked to her for well over a month, partly because I stayed away and partly because she was away for Thanksgiving and then sick for a week. Apparently absence does make the heart grow fonder, because she was out of sight but not out of mind.
It was the second Saturday in December, and I dragged myself out of the house to go to a coworker's holiday party. I figured any distraction was good for me, plus I was hoping to find a woman wanting to help me with my recent sexual frustration. Luckily, my coworker has good-looking friends and there was plenty of eye candy at the party. I was admiring the sights when someone tapped me on the shoulder.
"Like what you see?" Emily stood next to me giggling that she caught me checking out all the women I saw. When I looked at her, I completely forgot about every other person in the room. It was the first time I had seen her in makeup or a dress. The makeup was subtle, but noticeable. Even though she didn't need any, it accentuated her features. The dress was stunning. Or rather, the dress made her look stunning. It was dark grey with cap sleeves and a wide neck that showed off her lovely collarbone, but no cleavage. The bottom of it barely reached the middle of her thighs and I imagined that the back showed even more of her long legs. She had on purplish tights and black ankle boots with a heel that made her maybe an inch taller than me. She didn't need heels; she was already the same height as most guys.
I ignored her question only managing to openly stare and say, "Wow..." which made her blush.
"I feel so silly getting all dressed up, but Beth convinced me to," she explained, talking about the host of the party.
"I'm glad she did. I mean, you look great. Like, it's cool to see you not in jeans and a t-shirt." I played that off horribly, but it elicited another giggle and a deeper blush from Emily.
"You're looking pretty handsome yourself. I've always wondered what you look like out of your work clothes." I couldn't tell if she intended or even realized the innuendo as she said it, but I felt my own face go red and she immediately got embarrassed. "I mean, I've never seen you without your work shirt on...ummm...I've never seen you in different clothes."
There was an awkward silence between us where we avoided eye contact and I took the opportunity to look at her again. That's when I realized that the diamond ring that was always on her left hand was gone. She must have noticed me looking because she covered her hand.
