tagRomanceHas This Ever Happened To You?

Has This Ever Happened To You?

byBOSTONFICTIONWRITER©

Has this ever happened to you?

There is a woman who works with you, the most beautiful woman you have ever seen, more beautiful than any actress you have lusted over on the silver screen, and you cannot get her out of her mind. Yet, whenever you think about approaching her, introducing yourself and asking her out, your pulse quickens, your knees weaken, your hands sweat, and your stomach sours with the thought of rejection.

Every day, you imagine asking her out to eat, to go dancing, and to take long walks to talk about everything and to laugh about nothing. Every night, when alone with your thoughts, you dream about making love to her and about her sucking your cock.

You imagine her naked body wrapped around your torso, your big hands around her trim waist, and her firm breasts bouncing up and down and side to side while her round hips pulsate so slowly and so seductively on your long, thick cock, as she screams your name in passion and in pleasure. You focus your thoughts on her full lips and put a finger to her mouth while imagining her sucking your swollen cock. She takes your finger in her mouth and sucks it deep, as deep as she would suck your prick. You stiffen at the thought of the antics of her tongue and the action of her mouth and lips on your finger.

"May I suck your cock?"

"Yes, of course, you may blow me, unless you want me to continue to make you cum again with my cock and with my tongue."

"Oh, no, my darling, you have unselfishly sexually satisfied me in every way. My body still quivers with the pleasures you have generously given me. I cannot take anymore tonight. It is my turn to make you cum. Only, if you do not mind, it would really please me if you could cum in my mouth. I love the taste of your semen and swallowing your seed. And after I am done sucking you off, may I suck you off again and again and keep you in my mouth until you fall asleep?"

"Well, okay, er, I mean, sure baby, if that's what you want and if that is what will make you happy."

"Oh, yes, my love, sucking your cock forever will make me so very happy."

"Then, agreed, anything for you. Whatever makes you happy makes me happy."

You cannot believe you have found the perfect woman, if only in your dreams.

(You can tell a man wrote this story.)

Excited with fantasies of you with her, you are alive with the vision of her in your life, forever.

Every day, you practice what to say to her and today, while walking to work from your car, you finally build up the courage to present yourself to her and ask her out after work. Later, on your way to your car to drive home from work, you kick yourself for not asking her out when you passed by her desk for the sixth time and promise yourself again to approach her tomorrow.

You are such a loser, loser.

Although you are renewed with the promise of her in your life, deep down, you feel you may not want to disappoint your dreams with the reality that she will not measure up, as she does in your dreams, once she is in your life for real.

"Nothing is as good as it seems," you say to yourself to make yourself feel better in preparation of her rejection. "She's probably a bitch or a lesbian."

Still, your appetite for food is replaced by your appetite for her. Your inability to sleep at night clouds your mind in an eternal fog with her peering at your through the misty haze of your imagination and are forever stuck on the vision of her loveliness. The reality of you never mounting the courage to ask her out pervades your soul and preoccupies your mind like cool cement flowing down your legs and turning your feet to stone. Truly, you are a loser, loser.

You imagine scenarios where you are fatefully thrown together, a chance encounter in a stuck elevator, a rescue when you pull her back from a speeding car, an intervention from a rude dude who makes inappropriate advances, or a sudden rain storm where you offer to drive her home.

With each scenario, you imagine a grateful kiss that turns to a kiss of passion and erupts in a wild night of hot sex. With the fading vision of each scenario, you are left with an emptiness that cannot be filled with anything else but all of her. Why does she captivate you so? What is this spell that she has over you? Is this love? Is she the one? What if she does not feel the same way about me? What if she loves another?

Mindlessly, you scribble her name over and again while watching her walk by when she arrives to work, when she leaves and returns from lunch, and when she leaves for the day. You make excuses to walk by her desk, yet, you are oblivious to you. And, you still cannot summon the courage to look at her for fear that she will perceive you as a weirdo or worse a stalker never mind having the courage to ask her out. Your company has strict policies on sexual harassment yet you still dress to impress her. You spend extra time at the gym building your muscles and passing up that donut the next morning.

Yet, you are invisible to her. She does not notice you. She does not know you exist. She, no doubt, loves another. Surely, that is the reason why she does not look your way.

Then, one day, you look up from your scribbling of her name to see her standing in front of your desk. From your seated position, you notice she is tall and very curvaceous. The music of "The Girl From Ipanema" runs endlessly thought your mind. "Tall and tanned and young and lovely, the girl from Ipanema goes walking and when she passes each one she passes goes...ahhh!"

"Hi, I'm Angelica."

Your practiced response comes to mind, "Yes, I know. Someone as beautiful as you would surely have a name befitting an angel." But the words evaporate and disappear from your thoughts as soon as you make eye contact with her eyes that are so deep blue that they drift your mind away to an island in the South Pacific. You can hear the the waves of the ocean as she runs up to you from the water along the white sand topless and you watch her approaching you with her breasts bouncing up and down and swaying side to side.

Your brain flashes read alerts that your eyes are staring and your mouth is gaping.

You recover your senses and look down at your desk following her perfect form with your eyes along the way. Quickly, you cover her name scribbled all over your pad with some papers. Again, you remember your practiced response, "Yes, I know. Someone as beautiful as you would surely have a name befitting an angel" but a million panicked thoughts suddenly runs away with your mind blocking your ability to speak. Besides, you are too late, the timing of the response has already passed and, now, she would perceive your rehearsed compliment as insincere.

"Hi," is all that you manage to blurt out.

"I was wondering," she says, as she fiddles nervously with her blouse button.

A thousand nights you have fumbled with her buttons, as you unbutton her bright white blouse to view her soft but firm, creamy white breasts and, now, she is standing before you fumbling with the same button. You feel your cock harden. Your breathing grows shallow and your heart beats faster. You have to control yourself from staring at her buttons and at her breasts, so round, so perky, so supple in your mouth, you imagine them while imagining her naked and imagine her having big, pink, puffy nipples, nipples that pop from your lips after you have sufficiently sucked them. Now, you have an erection.

You make eye contact and are hopelessly locked in her look of sensitive sexuality and subtle sensuality. Your look, you realize, shows her that you love her but you hope she does not realize that you do, not yet, not now, but one day when you know that she loves you, but now, you are staring at her, again, and not speaking, and obviously, making her nervous.

God, no woman has ever done this to me. Always, I am in control. Now, I am lost in the power she possesses over me. All of these thought occur in the longest nanosecond in the universe. Her arrival has slowed time.

"I was wondering if you could help me with a paper jam in the copier."

You are up and out of your chair before she finishes her sentence, nearly spilling your coffee over her name that is hidden beneath your reports.

You walk with her down the corridor to the copy machine and do all the manly things possible to free her stuck copy. You are on your knees looking for a button that releases the door. You look up and say, "Turn off the copier, please. I don't want an electrical shock."

She leans forward to depress the off button giving you a clear but quick glimpse up her short skirt. In another longest nanosecond in the universe, you see her tanned legs, firm thighs, and white thong that caresses her perfectly round ass and flows between her legs where you have dreamt of inserting your tongue and your cock so many times that you cannot recall how many sleepless nights you have had dreaming about her. Now, again, suddenly, you imagine sucking her pussy and filling all of her with your stiff cock before shooting a load in her to make a perfect baby girl who looks just like her.

Above her skirt and below the line of her blouse is a tattoo of a spider web, a beacon like bulls-eye that says this woman is not as innocent as she appears. You imagine her as the black widow, eating you, devouring all of you after she satisfies her every sexual need but you are okay with that and with her doing that to you, so long as you can be with her if only for one night.

You imagine ripping off her clothes and taking her right there on the carpet of the copy room.

"Fuck me hard, Baby. Give me all of your cock. Make me scream. Make me cum."

"I'll make you scream. I'll make you cum." You lunge your pelvis forward, "How's that?"

"How's what?" She responds to your question.

"Oh, no, I was just talking to myself. I think I fixed the problem."

You find the release, free her copy, and stand up to meet her gaze as she casually leans over the copier setting the controls to make her copy. Although she made eye contact with you just before she turned her attention to the controls of the copier, you cannot help but notice that you have a clear down blouse view of her cleavage, of the top of her breasts, and of her bra.

She has magnificent tits, not too big, not too small, but just right. They are perfect. She is perfect. You want her. You have to have her. You would do anything to bed her. You would do anything to take her in your arms, kiss her deeply, and run your hands all over her body.

All of this internal dialogue runs through your brain faster than a bullet.

She turns, melts you with her eyes, again, and says, "I want to suck your cock."

Your mind explodes with sexual anticipation.

"Pardon?"

"I want to set the lock."

"What?"

Your mind malfunctioned and you mistook her words.

"The lock, the lock, how do you set the lock?"

"Yes, of course, there is a lock that you can set with your password so that copies made by others are not charged to your department."

You are still so dazed that you thought she asked to suck your cock. Instead, she only wanted to set the lock and you were so enthralled in imagining her sucking your cock that you did not hear her say, "I'm making these copies for my finance. I did not want the boss to see me doing this. That is why I asked for your help."

You look at the paper she is holding ready to copy and it is a nude color photo of her standing by her bed in her bedroom. Your gaze goes from the photo of her to her eyes and back to the photo.

"Here use my code. I'll make the copies under my code." You push the copier button blocking her view that you have made an extra copy, a copy that appears after she has walked away. Hey, at least you are not a total loser. You now have a totally nude photo of her.

When you realize what she has just said, you wish you had not asked her to turn off the copier but were electrocuted instead.

"Has that ever happened to you? Have you ever been totally captivated and enchanted by someone that you are so helplessly theirs only to have her or him committed to another?

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