Ryker
I walk into Pub Fiction for my shift about forty-five minutes early tonight, not thinking twice about knocking on the staff room door because a, I’m early, and b, I never have the fuck before. Well let me tell you, apparently a and b don't apply anymore with Hot Girl working here. And apparently a knocking rule needs to be put in effect from this point on.
‘Cause, HOLY FUCKING CHRIST! As I barge into the room I’m quickly met with the sexiest scene I have EVER laid my eyes upon in my life. Sitting on the black leather ottoman in the middle of the room while bending forward with the abundance of her succulent cleavage spilling out of a black lace bra, is none other than Kat. Well fuck me sideways til Sunday! She doesn't see me right away as she’s pulling up black sheer pantyhose over her legs, legs I might add that just don't seem to quit. With this vision in front of me now taunting my senses, mainly my sense of I-wanna-fucking -touch, of course I do what all men in my position would do. Yup, like the fucking perv I am, I stare. Actually no, I full on gawk at the sight unfolding in front of my greedy eyes. Greedy to take her all in, every motion, every curve. Jesus, who knew a simple act could be so erotic. My cock is throbbing from where I stand, aching to be set free. Stifling a moan, I adjust myself thinking of my next move.
I honestly cannot help but watch, even if I wanted to leave, I can’t. It’s as if I’m rooted in place, my feet encased in cement, trapping me. My brain convincing my body it’s actually stuck. And truth be told, I’m okay with it. There is no other place I‘d rather be at this very moment, than right there with this woman as I silently wallow in her beauty. This, this in front of me is what wet dreams are made of. I knew this girl was hot, but fuck me. Man, am I grateful that my brain and body aren’t on the same page right now. You know the page where my legs would be allowing me to leave like I know I should. I know the right thing to do is to turn around and walk right the fuck back out the door. But in truth there is no fucking way that is happening, ‘cause this view is spectacular. And there is no fucking way am I’m missing this opportunity.
As if she’s finally sensing something in the air has changed, Kat looks up and finds me standing there rooted in my place by the door, gawking at her. Rather than freaking out like I assume she would, she simply smiles, her face a bit flushed as states that she says she could have sworn she locked the door. Our eyes meet and she continues to blush the sexiest shade of pink I have ever seen. I can’t help but think of what other body parts of Kat’s might match the shade. Shaking my head from those thoughts for now, I focus my attention back onto Kat, and in perfect time to witness her stand from her position on the ottoman.
I should fucking say something, I know this, I really do but for some fucked up reason I can’t form a response. It's like I’m one of those assholes who gets all tongue-tied around pretty girls. Fuck, I look like such a dick right now. Here I stand, staring with my mouth agape waiting her next move or to finally see her lose her shit on me. But instead, I've never been so thankful for not having a voice before in my life. As Kat stands, I can tell she’s actually quite nervous and shy. For some reason instinct wants me to comfort her. I want to call her baby and reassure her that she has not a goddamn thing to be nervous or embarrassed about, but I don’t. I want to tell her how sexy, and how completely thought consuming she has been, but I don’t. I want to tell her she is so fucking hot. But again, I don’t. I decide to stay quiet. I want her to lead how we’re going to play this thing out, whatever will make her to feel more at ease. Therefore, I stand in silence watching and waiting for her to call the shots. She begins to fumble with getting her t-shirt on and rather than staying quiet like I had planned guess what happens?
