The coworker

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: Booksie Classic
Two beings meet on the job and engage in silent seduction.

Submitted: March 08, 2007

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Submitted: March 08, 2007




The Coworker


From the moment he set foot in this new vast open space, this intriguing, pretty girl became his favorite daily recreation and he became her favorite man. They happened to belong to the same compartment of desks and tables but to work in separate teams and fields as to rarely have any occasion or meaningful excuse for a stimulating professional collaboration. That didn't stand in the way of them having a daily valse of silent but incredibly rich flirt.


She was neither tall nor short, neither slim nor fat, with a short black hair that she loved to throw right to left and left to right, to arrange one side of it neatly behind her ear just in preparation of a sideway glance at her man. A fine touch of red on her rosy cheeks and a light veneer of lipstick on her fine thin lips constituted the essence of her makeup but sufficed and revealed a sophisticated girl well-versed in intelligent makeup. She also put on two big round ear rings that added to her exquisite simple style. She had beautiful shoulders that he had to wait through the long grizzly months of winter and early spring before she could reveal to him the full power of their magnetism. In the mean time, and to keep himself patient, he would paint with the expression of his profound eyes, the full surface of her beautiful white arms from the very line of the often black shirts she put on till the tips of her slim fingers as though he added gloss to their lovely whiteness. She had above that a very beautiful neck of which she was all too aware as she loved to center her head above it and gaze straight through every time she had to walk past him. Her young bosom was round and pointing all the time forward. Next to her well nourished hips, it was her biggest pride and the parts of her that she loveled to death to see his eyes caress.


The importance of the daily ritual of mutual flirt was exacerbated by an unlikely obstacle that deprived them of a much longer relationship. There were only a few meters between their desks but on a small table just next to hers, sat what he liked to call the 'stupid printer', an HP laser printer of medium size that would hide every part of her that was not hidden by her desk until her brows. By some curious chance then, her face was cut at the absurd line just above her eyes and spoiled all of her silhouette. Occasionally, he would stealthily raise the hight of his own chair a few centimeters to see her eyes.


To compensate for this botched proximity, there came to the rescue her need to collaborate with different people at distant corners of the open workspace. That was the occasion for her to pass behind him and away as she left and in front of him as she came back. That was the occasion for her to savour the magnitude of his rich gazes on and around her moving stature. When coming back to her desk, she would walk towards him as if they were to fall in each other's arms, like lovers preparing for a deep hug, she measuring her footsteps and orchestrating her walk in a silent dance of seduction, he slowly turning his head as she approached, and playing with the angles of his look and gaze, throwing it up and down, on and around her body in a sideway manner that makes her dream of the potential magic of his touch. There was no denying the mutual attraction and deep and almost desperate yearning to discover each other.


The constance and harmony of this seduction didn't come to be from their first day though. There was mutual testing and a long period of observation on her part during which she probed the depth of his masculinity, tested the veracity of his manners and gazes, measured the real potential of his character, and sensed as she could the quantity of heat in his heart from the little warmth he diffused on her from a distance, and through the thin surface that was visible to her fine perception. She once, and for some unknown reason to him, pulled away her attention, and faked a slight indifference for a day or two. His glacial response was swift, firm, and unhesitating. What was most painful to her was the feeling that the sincerity and purity of his present coldness seemed to match in strength that of his earlier warmth, caring and attention. She quickly realised how much she got accustomed to his care, how much this care lit her days, coloured her work hours, and gave them a sweet taste she never experienced before.


In his distant moments, he grew even more precious to her. She felt stupid and sad to have tried such a cheap test with a man whom she discovered finally to be so much above this childish examination. His pride tortured her and she was reduced to begging his looks for a few days. So measured as he was, he only came back to her when he thought she would not play that game again, that she well understood that for him, playing this game a second time would mean the end of this pure silent love beyond any further repair.


Since then, she took the habit of announcing her arrival in the morning by a cough or by cleaning her throat, and he took the habit of greeting her by leaving the desk and rotating his chair towards her as she passed by. On occasions, she would also announce her arrival from a distance to pull him out from his frequent moments of intense concentration on the computer screen. There was also his colleague in front of him who served as a relay and an excuse for her to be just in front of him. She would come to ask some question or talk about some issue, and then keep playing with her hair, throwing a direct look at him every while. Then he would on purpose pick some part of her body he knew she was proud of and explore it with direct invasive looks. That aroused all her feminine senses like nothing else. It felt as though he held a hosepipe and threw tickling cords of water on her skin. He was master of this art she tought to herself dreaming of the bliss of being abandoned in his arms.


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