Ping! I look over to the bottom right-hand corner of my screen and see the notification for an incoming message. That's weird, who would be writing to me at this hour of the night, and from work to top it off. Well, let's just ignore the fact that it's a Friday night and I'm sitting on my bed in sweats and a sports bra, writing a report that isn't due for another week, my two cats as my only company. As usual, they're both asleep, one at the foot of my bed and the other between my outstretched legs. I open up the message and see it's from my boss. Oh lovely, the client has rescheduled the final presentation for next week instead of the week after. That means that we'll have to fly out first thing Monday morning. Guess it pays off to be married to the job, because there shouldn't be any problem in having the report done in time, even with the unexpected rescheduling of this meeting.
Being married to the job also has its deficiencies, especially in terms of relationships. It makes for some very lonely nights. Thankfully I have a very vivid imagination and a decent collection of toys to help me deal with the dry spell. Speaking of imagination, I notice that the new guy is included in the list of people going to visit the client next week. Oh yummy... he's been the star of my fantasies since the first day I saw him at work. Shawn Calvin. His name sounds like he should be an underwear model, and his looks just reinforce that idea. He's tall, dark blond, with a body that would put Michelangelo's David to shame. I'd love to have a go with him. Yeah, as my good friend Chris used to say, if wishes were horses I'd be driving a Ferrari.
Thinking about Shawn takes my mind off the report and I realize just how late it is. It's time for me to turn off the computer and relax for a bit before going to sleep. I save my progress, wait for it to shut down and then get up to place it on the night table. On my way back to the bed I debate whether I should grab one of my toys or not, finally deciding to go for it. I grab my favorite purple vibrator and lay down on the bed, letting my imagination take over.
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Monday morning at the airport the group assigned to the client presentation meets up at the gate to wait for the plane to board. I arrive last, and see Shawn (dreamy sigh), another coworker named Miriam and Ben, our boss (another dreamy sigh) already seated and waiting. Ben is older, maybe late 40s, but still works out almost every day and has an extremely defined body that looks killer in a suit. He also speaks in a super-sexy European accent that makes me shiver just listening to him. I'd love to be the middle of a Ben and Shawn sandwich if I ever got the chance. Thankfully no one can read my thoughts as we wait for the plane to board, or I'd probably die of embarrassment. As is, thinking of the two of them together has me squirming in my seat.
The plane boards soon after and the flight is uneventful. We reach our destination and check into the hotel. As luck would have it, Ben, Shawn and I are on the same floor, almost in neighboring rooms. We all go up our rooms to leave the suitcases and meet for lunch before heading to the client's office. Lunch is quick, though as a group we all get along and except for Shawn have known each other for years. I love my job so much largely in part to the great professional relationship I have with Ben and the others in my department. Most days it seems we're more like family than coworkers, which is a rare thing in the business world.
The meeting with the client later that afternoon goes better than expected. They're happy with the results presented, which means that we're the front runners for obtaining the next project of this type that they might need. Once we leave the client's office, Ben invites us all to a celebratory dinner. Miriam declines, but Shawn and I eagerly accept. We drink wine to accompany our food, and before I realize it we've downed about a bottle each, maybe more. I know for sure that I've passed my limit because I stand up and the room starts spinning. Both Ben and Shawn notice and reach out to steady me as I sway a little. "I'm so sorry guys, this is extremely embarrassing," I say. "I don't think I'll be able to walk up to my room. Could you help me out?"
"Sure" says Shawn at the same time Ben replies "Don't worry. We'll help you up."
I accidently (ok, maybe on purpose) keep brushing my breasts on their arms as they hold me up and guide me along, using my unsteady state as an excuse. Both of them try to ignore it, but I can see that Shawn is getting a little flushed around the collar. Interesting possibilities run through my wine-infused brain, and I keep "accidently" brushing up against him as we walk. Ben is much harder to read though, but it's fun to keep up the act. Between the two of them they help me reach the elevator without incident. The elevator opens up, and Ben walks in first, me behind him and Shawn bringing up the rear. As the doors close I trip on my feet and fall against Ben, who had just turned around, my whole body plastered against his. I pull Shawn with me since he had been holding my arm at the moment, and he fall against my back. I start to laugh and blurt out "I'm finally in a Ben and Shawn sandwich!" before clamping my hands over my mouth and trying to stand up on my own, face red with humiliation. I lower my eyes to the floor so as to not see either of their faces in fear of being laughed at, but they both try to make light of it as the elevator reaches our floor and we get out.
