Peeping Dave Ch. 01

I work in an office with several attorneys. I just started my career as a paralegal. It's a lot of long, hard hours punctuated by hours of boredom or not knowing when the next big case will walk through our door and provide us all with a bonus that says 'Jamaica!'

The 'guys' (as I like to call my co-workers) vary in height, weight, hair color, and marital status but they share one thing in common: Given the right situation, I'd fuck any or all of them...well, not ALL. You see, there is this creepy guy, Dave.

Dave's a bit older than the others. He's got that 'lounge lizard' quality about him. He's always swaggering around, showing off, speaking loudly as though he's Johnny Cochran, F. Lee Bailey, or Dominick Barber, and winking at me and the other women in the firm like we're 'next' on his list of conquests. Unfortunately, all the men I work with are married or in a committed relationship. I spend the few down times I have, when I'm not doing research or helping to write a brief, fantasizing about quite a few of these courageous, sexy esquires (Dave excluded, of course).

There's one attorney that I just adore, Dan. Dan's got all the qualities I love in a man: handsome, intelligent, witty, kind, expresses himself easily and openly, a killer smile, bright eyes that light up, a great body, and the best part, the tuft of chest hair that peeks out of his collar when it's Casual Day and he's not wearing the standard crisp white shirt and Father's Day necktie. What I would give, just once, to make love to Dan! Sometimes, I have this fantasy about a weekend with him:

Friday: Dan's family is away on a trip and I come over to his house to help him compile his case (no overtime compensation required). I spend the whole weekend there because there aren't enough hours in the week, too many distractions at the office, and the trial starts Monday.

I sleep in the guest room down the hall from Dan's room, when we haven't fallen asleep over papers not yet written or files not yet read. It's not uncommon to wake up with a sticky note attached to my laptop saying "There's coffee in the kitchen. When you wake up, take your time and we'll start again. Thanks for all your help. I owe you! Dan"

Saturday: In this little fantasy, I stumble upstairs, wiping the sleep from my eyes, as I find my room and undress for the shower. I'm slowly peeling off the clothes from the night before, admiring my body in the mirror on the dresser, caressing my soft flesh...all the curves, the dips, the tints and textures that make a woman unique. I'm wishing it was Dan who was touching me. If only Dan's large hands were cupping my breasts, his long fingers reaching to tug my nipples into erect delight, his lips kissing my neck and shoulder while we both gaze into the mirror. I envision Dan's hands moving from my full breasts down over my body, down to my smooth mons. My legs instinctively part and allow his hands to open my lips. He slides his naked body down my lower back and grinds against my ass, pushing his hardening cock into me, as he delves his fingers into my sex. And then there's a knock on my door...

"Jen, would you like me to turn on the shower for you?" It's Dan. Much to my embarrassment, I realize that I've left the door ajar as I'm damn near masturbating in front of the mirror. I grab for my robe and hurriedly put it on. "Uh, yeah, sure Dan. That would be great!" stammering as I quickly cover myself. With my early morning moment ruined, more by my own stupidity than Dan's interruption, I slog off to the shower that Dan's started for me.

Under the steady pulse of a warm shower, I begin to wonder if Dan watched me for long or if he was a gentleman. How long had he stood there? Did I excite him? Did he feel a stirring within his loins? Did he feel guilty about his family while lusting me? Did he feel guilty about violating my privacy...or me, with his eyes? I toweled off and donned my robe again to head back to my room. I dressed and went down to join Dan in his kitchen.

The smell of fresh amaretto flavored coffee filled the air and there were scrambled eggs and toast awaiting me. "A girl could get used to this, Dan!" He pulled out my chair and seated me at his kitchen table. Then he served me the meal and poured my coffee. "It's the least I could do for a woman who works so hard for me." I wonder if he's thinking inside "and lets me watch her touch herself in my guest room."

We discuss the particulars of the case and the latest research over breakfast and then it's back to the grind. During the day, I notice that Dan's actually a little playful...almost flirty (could it be that impromptu peep show that has him suddenly interested?). Occasionally, his hand will graze mine or will rest on my shoulder, longer than usual, as he peers over my shoulder, staring at the laptop screen. I make a note to myself to wear something lowcut for Sunday's day of work (no rest, no play...hasn't Dan ever heard that all work and no play makes Dan a frustrated married man?).

Saturday Night: I voice my thought to Dan about his lack of down time and he agrees to pop open a bottle of wine while we eat dinner. He's ordered in Chinese tonight. This time, in honor of Saturday night, we stop working by 10 p.m. and curl up on the floor to eat our dinner, sip our wine, and watch mindless television. I make sure to wear something more casual now that it's evening and almost bedtime. I put on some fleece shorts emblazoned with my college's mascot and initials and a tank top that really requires a bra (but I'm not playing by the rules tonight). I decide to leave my bra in my overnight bag but I at least wear panties. Dan's looking so casual that I don't recognize him. He's got on plaid lounge pants that look awfully soft - and expensive- and a t-shirt from his days at University.

We talk about his marriage, my single life, the world, current events, and our dinner. I can tell that he's getting buzzed by the wine because he's confiding more personal information to me than I would expect from him normally. At one point, he stopped in mid-sentence to wipe some lobster sauce from chin...and that's where I takeover in my fantasy.

I look into his grey eyes as he wipes the sauce from my chin, opening my lips. I turn my lips to his still extended hand and kiss into his palm. I half expect him to pull away but he doesn't. He merely watches as his kind gesture turns into something more rapturous.

I press my soft cheek into his palm like a forceful kitten begging to be petted. Since he doesn't stop me, I begin to kiss and suck his fingers, using my tongue on each one as though they are 5 individual, little cocks. His eyes close and he looks relaxed. I get on my hands and knees, leaning toward him, still burrowing into his palm. He leans back...legs spread for me to climb between and I take the cue.

I stop kissing Dan's hand and push his t-shirt up, revealing a magnificent, fit body with that beautiful tree of strawberry blond hair on his chest and trailing down his stomach. I kiss my way up the trunk of the tree, to between his nipples, and up to his throat. I'm careful to not kiss or suck too hard at his neck (wouldn't want to leave a tell tale sign for his wife) although I'd love to sink my teeth into him and suck every part of his body!

Dan's breathing becomes more labored. I sense his mental resistance and even the rigidity of his limbs (at least the intended 'limb' is rigid too), and as I kiss his earlobe, I whisper to him "Dan, if you want me to stop, tell me."

"Oh Jen..." He cups my face in his hands and stares directly into my dark eyes. "I do want you. God, I need this so badly. I want you. I just don't want to lose my family or you. I'm torn. For the first time in my life, I know what I want and I'm terrified to go for it."

I smile softly. "Dan, you won't lose them or me. Let me make love to you. Lets enjoy this time for us. It's okay, Dan." I place my lips on his forehead and kiss him. "Really, it's okay." I kiss over his eyelids, "I adore you." Over his cheeks, "I'm yours tonight." To his lips...sealing this weekend's destiny with a kiss.

Of course, my fantasy ends with us making love until the sun comes up. But the ugly reality of my job comes back and haunts me.

It's a Monday and we're hit with the usual slew of weekend probation violations, domestic abuses, and assaults. The attorneys are whizzing around trying to balance new and old clients. I'm coordinating court dates and calendars on the phone when I feel this slimy, leer. It's Dave. He's in my peripheral vision, behind me.

I cover the mouthpiece of the phone, "Yes, Dave, what do you want?"

"Oh Jen, you KNOW what I want. And you want it too!"

I shake my head at him and gesture for him to go away. I feel dirty and turn my chair away so he's no longer in my sight. Thank God, he goes away and starts to chat up the new temp we got. Some poor girl, fresh out of college who just wants a job and a future.

During lunch, a few of us girls gather in the break room. Instead of eating in today, we decide to go to a restaurant. Since there's no manager in sight, we decide to have a teensy weensy liquid lunch. After all, it's Monday and we won't be getting out of the office until at least 8 p.m. During our lunch, we gossip. I confide my fantasy about Dan and everyone sighs and nods. Apparently, I am not the only woman who's noticed how striking of a man he is. Nor have they missed Dave and his creepiness. The conversation becomes loud as we drink more and discuss Dave. Each girl has her own story.

Samantha: "Once Dave got behind me in the copy room and pressed his cock against my ass." A unison of "ewwwwwwwws."

Lauren: "I was using the restroom and Dave walked into the ladies room. Imagine my surprise at seeing HIM in there!" We all laugh...and yet are reviled by this.

Vanessa: "You think that's bad? I was working late and heard a noise in the conference room. The door was open and I peeked in. Dave was fucking this...this....what looked like a hooker...right there on our conference room table!" We almost all lost our lunches then and not because of alcohol.

How many times had we all eaten on that table? Now, every time I go in there, I will have this visual of Dave pumping some slut on the table.

Vanessa regales us with story details. How her dress was hiked up over her hips. How Dave's pants were around his ankles (couldn't he have the courtesy to undress?). How he made the girl suck his cock after fucking her and how he shot his wad over this woman's face. What really was odd, and yet perversely titillating, was how big his cock was. Vanessa said it was and I quote, "like a fucking Budweiser Shetland."

I couldn't help myself. "Van, they use Clydesdales not Shetlands."

"Look who knows her horse cocks," howled Vanessa. I felt myself go red in the face as the others laughed at my knowledge and expense.

The others headed back to the office and I picked up some take-out, for Dan. I knew he wouldn't be eating unless someone brought it to him. God, I'd love to give him dessert.

Stay tuned for Chapter Two.