Falling in Love Again

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Falling in love once is hard, but falling in love again.
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The Bard
The Bard
29 Followers

Nancy...

Well her full name is actually Nancy Smith-Harding but everybody naturally calls her Nancy. She is 30, smart, sexy, and I hate to admit it, but she's also driving me crazy. Who would have suspected that she'd have such an effect on me? After all I am 20 something, widowed and, contented in my life. It was about a year after my wife died, everything in my life was coming together, it was great... Until she came to work for our firm.

Now I suppose I fit into the typical category for male stereotypes, even though I had never even considered it until now. I admit it though; I remember checking her out on that first day. I compared her to my personal qualities of beauty and acceptability, and found she fell into an average rating. Nancy is a pretty woman of that there is no doubt. Her short ash brown hair seemed to suit her even though I tended to like long hair, and her soft hazel eyes were dreamy to look into. Still though, I noted that she wore slacks and I'm a legman so that was the first strike against her. She is not a tall lady, being about 5'2" or 3" and if I were to hazard a guess about I'd say about 120 lbs. She has smallish breasts, but curves, which were definitely to my taste, at least ways judging by what my mind and eyes could discern. You see beside the slacks Nancy wore a sort of thick gray blouse covered mostly by a dull sport coat. Her heels were small perhaps an inch in length, and she sported a small cross about her neck and a wedding ring for jewelry. I remember thinking wedding ring... Too bad she's kind of cute, and yet immediately afterwards I questioned my own ideals. You see I have always though it a bad idea for employees within a firm to date or get together. Yet here I was on a first meeting thinking of her in exactly those terms.

I suppose that one of my own personal idiosyncrasies is I've never been big on casually chatting with people, but I have always been good at observation. I have also developed an instinctive curiosity, which has also lead me to listen, where, and when others speak even if it is not specifically to me. Thus it was that over the next six months I got to know Nancy a bit more. I discovered for example that her original state of attire was on the whole the way she dressed. In fact it must have been at least a month before I ever saw the smallest portion of her legs. Her character was easy going, and all in all I liked her. I suppose though the real trouble started at the company's annual golf tournament. You see each year the staff and their significant others are invited out for a round of golf and meal on the firm. Well on this particular occasion Nancy came with her husband Albert, who for some odd reason reminded me of me. I guess in some ways that should be considered a compliment, but then if that were the case then I am a terrible person, for you see I don't like Albert. Oh sure in the basic sense I could see myself as him. We had similar builds, and in fact similar looks but I hope that is as far as it goes.

I found over the course of the evening Albert seemed to treat his wife sort of like his coat or a dog. You know he owned it, and it was there if he wanted it, but not like a person, a partner, a wife. Perhaps I thought... This was a secluded incidence after all the company was offering free booze and he did partake on several occasions, but Damit it all!! She was lovely Suddenly I wondered where that thought had come from. There was nothing between us, never had been. In fact on the rare occasion where she had said something which peeked my personal interest or curiosity I had stayed quiet. So why now was she so intriguing So on my mind? I couldn't answer that question, still can't. I suppose though that was the start of it.

I remember now it was that very night which cascaded me into the mess I found myself in. You see it was about 3:30 in the morning when suddenly I awoke in a cold sweat. I had been dreaming of Nancy. Well ok... Lets put this into context... I'd been making love to her in my dream. Ravaging her tender young body again, and again. I awoke to the aching of my own cock, which was swollen, hard, and begging I use it. Yet no matter what I tried, I couldn't sleep, nor get rid of it, for hours. I know you understand all that entails so for now I'll not go into it.

The next day at work I looked like hell warmed over. I knew it. I felt it. But to add to the burden Nancy arrived in a skirt, knee length. Her thick blouse, had been replaced by a lighter one and she had left the dull sports coat at home. Even her heels had gained an inch, but her true nature still shone through with the addition of cheapy pantyhose. I might well have enjoyed the day too, but it bothered me that I had dreamt of her in that way. Now each time she came close those scenes flashed in my mind, but worse than this I let her fuss over me. You see she was concerned about me, that I was sick, yet I was consumed by her. My eyes tried to compare her dream body to her newly revealed form. I found myself trying to see down her blouse or to catch a glimpse of more leg as she moved. Things were bad.

Over the next few months it did not become easier. On occasion I still dreamt of her, and I started to notice more about her at the office. I started to watch the way she moved, the shade of her lipstick, and the smell of her perfume. I think perhaps it still would have been ok but then it happened. My birthday . You see Nancy somehow discovered it was my birthday and insisted I have a birthday kiss. At the time I thought nothing of the request, but when her lips brushed mine all I wanted to do was hold on. My hands shook demanding I caress her but somehow I managed to restrain myself, yet even now I wonder if she knew. I also recall how for hours afterwards my mind replayed that simple kiss. How soft it was. How warm her lips seemed. The slight moisture, which, remained upon my own. Were her lips parted... Yes I believe so. Did she wish or want my lips to part? Did she wish or want to feel my tongue. Oh God!! What was she doing to me

You'd think a grown man could control himself, but oh no I let it get worse still. I listened more acutely now as Nancy spoke. Listened to her life, which became a part of my own. Listened as she spoke of watching sex videos with her husband, about double penetration, and how she did, or would feel full not excited. Listened how an employee had too much to drink one day and propositioned her. Listened how someone had tried to have phone sex with her, there at the office... Someone female .Then listened how she attended a party one night had too much to drink, passed out, and awoke the next day without her panties or pantyhose. She couldn't remember it happening but knew it was her husband. They fed my imagination. Fed the dreams, which became longer and more often. I started to fantasize about her there at the office, and still it got worse. Her dresses became shorter and I found myself absorbed by her sexy legs I hovered about them as much as I could. I was going nuts I had to get away

I didn't though I stayed. I stayed as the weather became cooler and her blouses changed to sweaters watching as they often billowed forth offering me a view of her bra, covered breasts. I stayed until her birthday when fate stepped in. I had known it was coming. Had longed for it in fact for I needed another kiss. I had asked her if I might give her a present to which she had smiled told me it was not necessary and then kissed me on the cheek, for my consideration. My hand had accidentally brushed her breast then and my dreams became worse. I know now I was beyond help. My mind and actions were no longer controlled by reason, I did go out and buy her a present. There was more to it though, for somehow I had purchased a beautiful 80% angora sweater. It was so soft, so warm, so black But more than this I added a note. I don't even remember doing it yet there it was when she opened it. How had it happened?

Imagine now if you will sweet Nancy Smith-Harding arriving at work on that day. It was cold, wet and relatively miserable, and her mood seemed to reflect this. As I saw her I immediately wished her the happiest of birthdays, and kissed her before she even removed her coat, soaking myself in the process, but I didn't care. As I helped her off with her coat I invited her to lunch and was rewarded with another kiss, and then it happened. She saw the present upon her desk. A smallish box wrapped neatly with a bright red ribbon. Her eyes suddenly seemed to sparkle and she said "Oh!!! You You shouldn't have". Thinking back now, perhaps she was correct.

I remember watching as she carefully untied the ribbon, then removed the paper without damaging it, a trait my wife had, had. How she folded back the flaps of the crepe paper to reveal the object within. "Oh!! Philip It's beautiful You shouldn't have", still echoes in my mind. Then I watched as she carefully ran her hand over the soft folded garment before reaching in to lift it out. I watched as the bottom of the sweater dropped away from her hands and as a tiny piece of paper floated featherlike to her desk. Nancy turned the garment slowly in her hands then brought it up to her chest. She held it there a moment then slowly stroked the front again. "Oh!!! Philip thank you", she said. Then kissed me one more time. I remember now returning to my desk satisfied at the response I had received but more than this I was happy she truly seemed to love the present.

It was perhaps 10 minutes later when out of curiosity at the silence I turned the corner to Nancy's office. In one hand she held the sweater in the other that funny piece of paper, which had floated from between the folds. She looked up at me as I entered, smiled a crooked little smile then looked back at the sweater. "Thank you", were her words, yet they were chocked up as though she fought the urge to cry. "Nancy" I began, but suddenly she stood and rushed past me to the ladies room. What had happened? What had I done?... If you've never experienced the situation where upon a person consumes you're every waking thought, then perhaps you'll not understand. As it was though I had done something to apparently upset Nancy, and my mind was agonizing over it. There was no clue left behind save the box, neatly folded paper, and ribbon. I tried following her to wait and ask, but then work got in the way. Someone was paging me and I tried to weight the importance. Slowly reluctantly I returned to my desk, but when I picked up the phone the line was dead. Curious that Once again I headed towards the ladies room and once again I was paged. I guessed the caller had somehow gotten cut off and thus turned and hurried back.

I know I picked-up the phone said "Hello" and waited, but once again there was nobody there. This was getting ridiculous. I hung up again, stood, took perhaps three steps, when it rang for a third time. Frustrated I picked up the receiver, and gruffly said "Hello? Hello Hello is anyone there?" Just as I was about to hang up again I heard "Thank you". It was so soft I had almost missed it; so just in case I said "What?" "Thank you" came the voice again "Who is this?" I asked. Then suddenly realized it was Nancy. "Nancy? Is that you?" I continued. "I'm sorry" came the response... "I have to go"... "Nancy" I began, but then the line went dead. I waited there in my office, but the phone never rang again. Then I tried going back to the ladies room only to find it empty. I searched around the building but could find no sign of Nancy and so I went to the front, and asked if anyone had seen her. Apparently she told them she was not feeling well and left for the day. What could I have possibly done to affect her so. I waited through the rest of the day, all through the next, and even the one after, before finally finding out. Then on the Friday Nancy returned.

I remember it like yesterday not because it mirrored her birthday, being cold, wet, and miserable, but because she came in with a bright smile and a very cheerful greeting. I was so happy she had returned to her old self and then it happened. Nancy turned to face me, removed her coat, and was sporting the new angora sweater. More than this though Nancy's breasts jiggled as she moved and suddenly I knew she was braless. I remember now that note. Remember writing it, and placing it between the folds of the sweater. I remember how I had told her this sweater was like I. Warm, caring, and attentive to her body's needs. I remember writing that the first time she donned it, she should remove her bra close her eyes and caress her breasts. When she opened them again I wrote, she'd always remember that's how I'd treat her, and that each time she wore the sweater braless, she'd feel my caring hands stroking her body. After that it was hell to work with Nancy, for she hovered close, brushed against me, and drove my sense wild. I wanted nothing more than to grab her lay her across my desk and ravage her. Yet still I remembered she was married. She wore that sweater quite often I recall, and each time it was braless.

Once she had asked me for some odd form. One, which the company only used on the rarest of occasions. I knew where that form was, and could easily have told her, but instead I insisted I'd showed her. She wore the sweater that day, and I knew before I even got up from my desk this was a mistake. Together we traveled down into the very bowels of the building way back in the furthest corner where the ancient records were kept. I showed her the box high on a shelf and the old stool I had used in the past to retrieve it. I recall how I pulled the stool forward and was about to retrieve the box when she laid her hand upon my shoulder. "Its ok Philip" she had said "I can get it thanks". Somewhere in that touch I was lost, I stepped away and allowed her to retrieve it. I watched as she adjusted the stool to her own satisfaction. Watched as the angora floated away from her breasts and shifted so I could see more. I wanted to grab her, push her against the wall and kiss her. I knew she'd let me. I dreamt just that night, it was how she wanted it, and yet somewhere deep inside myself I stayed under restraints. I watched as her thigh slipped into view as she placed her foot upon the stool. Watched as she tested its stability, and watched as her body rose to meet the new height. My mind said to "Go! Then, and there before it was too late" But I didn't. Instead I waited, and watched. Had I known what was going to happen? I wonder about that now... I watched as Nancy reached for the box. Watched as she extended herself on tippy toes and stretched way to far for the tiny stool. I knew before my eyes confirmed it, that she would fall and thus it was that my hands darted out and grasped her about the thighs for support. I held her there. Her waist crushed against my chest feeling the warmth from her body. I heard her breath catch as she started the fall, and the relief as she found I was there when she needed me. As promised so few months ago.

Again she reached for the box yet I did not let go. My mind no longer wished to use logic, or reason for it was swimming in the closeness we now shared. I suddenly realized her sweater was just brushing my nose and my eyes oriented themselves. There I was mere inches from Nancy's sexy breasts. I also realized her nipples were hard and watched fascinated as they glided slowly back and forth against the soft material, as her body moved. I know my mind wanted to suck one, my body said yes, yes, yes, but my conscience said no. I watched them moving back and forth, back and forth, and moved my mouth closer. Perhaps, I thought, they could accidentally brush my lips a small yet satisfying consolation. Closer and closer I moved, then at the last moment looked up higher. Nancy's face was obscured from my sight, and I knew it was now or never, so I opened my mouth and gently sucked the hard bud. All in all it was very quick, and when I looked up she had not moved nor even noticed. I had gotten away with it... Yet it was so unsatisfying. It was just too sort.

Now my mind weighted, right from wrong, and I knew that was the end of it. I had managed to steal that tiny thrill, from another man's wife but that had to be as far as it went. Having resolved that, I then closed my eyes opened my mouth again, and captured a bud for a second time. This time I took longer and it felt so much better. The bud was so hard and receptive to my lips. I felt like I was in heaven. I am not really sure how long the whole scene took, but I'd guess only a few seconds. I do recall though it was the shaking of Nancy's thighs in my hands that caused me to stop. As my mouth moved away, my now guilt ridden conscious forced me to look up. This time Nancy's face came into view. Her head slowly tilting, until her eyes gazed blankly into my own. Her body shifted as she began to descend from the stool causing my hands to glide ever higher on her thighs, and forcing her skirt up. I watched as her eyes closed and as her lips parted in a soft exhale of breath, and I knew one kiss would seal our fate.

I waited till she stood again on the floor, then allowed my hands to glide almost caressingly up her body, until at last my fingers slipped through her silken hair. I paused for just a moment, then as her eyes began to open, leaned in. Instead of kissing her though my lips brushed past her cheek towards her ear. "I'm sorry" I whispered. I felt her hands caress up my back and her breasts push hotly against me. God I wanted this. More than anything, and yet somehow I found the strength to draw her face back in front of my own. I heard the words as they came from my lips. "We I Can't". I heard them but could not believe them, then repeated that I was sorry.

For better or worse I pulled away. I watched as her eyes filled with tears, and felt as though I'd just ended my own life. She had said nothing, had not tried to fight, only slowly turned and headed away. I remember watching as she made her way through the maze of storage boxes then watched as her legs slowly disappeared from sight up the stairs. There I was alone in the darkened basement alone with my mind. I turned to follow her, then thought of the form she had been looking for, so instead I turned back to the stool. For a moment I looked at it then slowly I sat down. It was all too much for me. Somehow I was losing my fight with what was right. I was giving in to the madness or perhaps love which Nancy had inspired, and so then and there I decided it had to end.

I never realized the extent such desires play upon the mind. For in the most complex of situations I can be counted on to be level headed and logical and yet my solution was to do something stupid. My idea for resolving the madness was to go out, pick up a lady, and have sex with her till I could no longer perform. I somehow rationalized that I could screw Nancy from my mind. So after work I went home, showered, shaved, put on my best suit, and cologne, and then went to a bar. There I did indeed find a lady. A real beauty by anyone's standards. She had the most gorgeous long black hair, and the softest blue eyes imaginable. Her legs were covered in the sheerest of stockings and her dress was a combination of modern, sexy, and classy. We sat together enjoying the evening. Talking, listening to the music, just friendly stuff when out of the blue she asked if we could get out of there. I remember smiling, telling her of course, then going to the bar and ordering her a last drink. I also asked the bartender for the number of a local cab company, then proceeded to call and ask that we be picked up. As I returned to the table I explained that the cab was on the way, so we yet had time for a last dance. I am not sure how long it took but eventually the cab arrived and we headed out. I recall opening the door watching with lust and fascination as she swung her legs inside, then I closed the door behind her. It seems funny now, but there I stood outside the cab with a sexy, willing partner, just beyond the smoked glass. I recall watching as it lowered and even her words... "What's going on? I thought we were leaving". I smiled at that, and said "I'm sorry I can't". She looked at me quizzically then said "What??? Why the fuck not?"... Imagine, words like that from a lady... Anyway I know I reached inside the car pulled her close and kissed her on the cheek. I handed the driver some money then said... "I can't,,, you're just not Nancy". I turned then headed off to my own car and had managed to get the key in the lock when she was back. She spun me about and in a flurry of profanity asked who Nancy was. I recall fighting for the answer saying, "Nancy is Nancy is" When my date suddenly lunged at me. She did not attack though for instead she rammed her tongue into my mouth in an attempted passion filled kiss. Perhaps it was an attempt to win me over, for when she had finished, she said "Does Nancy do that for you?" "No" I admitted, then added "Nancy's married". It seems that as fast as the last word exited my lips my date had already slapped my face and call me an asshole. She stormed off before I even regained my balance and the last I'd seen of her was those thighs once again swinging into the cab.

The Bard
The Bard
29 Followers