Too Clever by a Mile

She was right there. She looked excited. He wasn't surprised; his office had become something of the nerve center for their lovemaking.

He rolled his chair back, "Come over here."

She was wearing a pretty white one piece romper. It had no straps or shoulder supports. It hung off the shoulder, held in place by a thin piece of elastic shrouded by lacy ruffles. From there it loosely drooped down to her waist where it was pulled together by another thin piece of elastic. Then it spread out again to frilly lacy panties that came to just above mid-thigh. She wasn't wearing anything underneath, the soft translucency of the material permitted only a hint of the delicious morsels within, she looked positively adorable, good enough to eat.

He pointed to the spot between his legs. "Stand here and turn around."

Cathy skipped over, her little boobs bouncing with each step. She turned around back to.

"Hold still." He took a piece of ribbon. It was perhaps an inch in width; he wrapped it around her wrists, and tied it off in a neat bow. It wasn't tight, but he knew it was tight enough to cause her to feel the compression. "OK," he said, "Turn back around."

She did. She was still smiling, "OK you've got me."

He felt foolish. He thought she'd fight back. She didn't. She liked it. She trusted him completely. He pointed to his knee, "Here."

She sat on his knees, hands behind her back. She leaned against him and pressed her head up under his chin, "You know what?"

He felt really uncomfortable, "No what?"

She started tickling his waist with her trapped hands, "I think I'm falling in love."

Just what he didn't want to hear. It was something he'd been thinking for the past several days, "He put his right arm around her shoulders and started fondling the back of her neck with the fingers of his right hand. He took his left hand and started to stroke the smooth mound of her vagina over the romper. He kissed her left boob through the thin material, "I don't know what we're going to do with you Cathy."

She pressed closer and kissed his neck, "Try making love to me."

He picked her up and carried her into the living room. That was one thing he'd really started to like doing. She was so soft and warm, and agreeable. He remembered Leah. By comparison Leah was cold and brittle. Why hadn't he noticed? He shoved the thought of Leah's love making out of his mind. She was his sweetheart, his first great love. This woman? He just didn't know.

They made love there on the sofa, or had sex, he wasn't sure. He only knew he sure loved doing it, and she seemed to like doing it too. Afterward he lay on the sofa while she sat on the floor near his head. He spent the next several hours fiddling with her hair and her neck. He liked her hair. It was dark, thick, soft and easy to ruffle. It always smelled good; she kept it clean and glossy. She sat there and enjoyed the affection. He nuzzled the back of her neck. What was he ever going to do with her?