"Simone" and "Sam" have been forced to go on the Lam, after some sloppy security work exposed them to their potential "enemies". Fortunately, they've found help through the SBPP.
("Sex Bloggers Protection Program"). Follow their adventures here until its safe for them to resume their prior alter-egos.

Wednesday, March 9, 2011

Office Visit Flashback

Mistress has a chance to stop by my office yesterday. It was after lunch, around 2 pm.

I had stayed in during the lunch hour, focused on a project, while listening to our new Governor on the radio, braying in his State of the State Speech about his plans to turn our creaky if earnest old Midwestern state into a shiny mecca like Florida. You know, where, in his narrative, solely  because of low taxes, old, retired  people from our state want to move to places like Naples or Stillwater.  

I mean, if only given the right tax incentive, who wouldn’t want to spend their golden years on the frozen shores of a Great polluted Lake, dodging washed up carp, rather than searching for Sand Dollars on a Gulf  Beach.

Having spent some years down there – no offense to Florida readers – I tend to think of a place where kids go to schools in glorified trailers, there are acres of abandoned strip malls and mold infested, unsold McMansions, and the unemployment rate remains a whopping 12%.

But if you actually have a job, and don’t have kids to educate, I suppose it is nice to pay no state income taxes.

With one side of my brain focused on work, and the other sending out snotty tweets commenting on our Governor’s pompous presumptions, I probably was not in the best of moods when Mistress popped into my office to get her fair share of worship.

But there is something about seeing her breeze into my perch, high above River City that always lifts my spirits.

It’s on the cusp of Spring here, but she had not yet shed her winter costume: black tights and boots, a black jacket, and a black tie-dyeish skirt that settled a few inches above her knees.

And as I filled her in on the Governor’s pronouncements, I was simultaneously closing the door, sliding her throne into place, and spreading the blanket that would soon be absorbing her musky juices.

Her office visit brought to mind how Mistress and I finally broke the ice of our building sexual tension back in 1988, a story I was nipping at in some blogs last week.

It was about a week after our April primary here. For those of you who are political junkies, our candidate, the short former governor of Massachusetts, had eliminated most of the other “Seven Dwarfs” by then, with The Reverend Jackson still hanging on, gathering delegates for his curtain call in Atlanta.

I was undergoing a good bit of Molly withdrawal. My excuse to see her on a daily basis had gone away once the primary votes were counted. And, quite frankly, I had no idea whether she shared my attraction.

Maybe she just saw me as yet another dirty older man pining for her. After all, she was a young 24, and I was an ancient 37.

So I was a little surprised when she called me at home one evening, several days after “victory night” and asked if she could meet me in my office sometime soon.

I figured she wanted some help for her boss, a now prominent politico in his own right, or maybe advice on how to handle a work problem. We set up a time.

AS she waltzed into my office that day, a different building, but a similar view, she was the same glorious sight  as she was yesterday afternoon. Dressed up in something stylish and work appropriate, but sexily short, showing off those glorious legs. It was spring, so I recall more opaque hose, and pumps, but I could be corrected.

Long hair. Perfectly made up. Alluring perfume to which I had become addicted.

It was more than enough to make a dirty older man swoon.

But in the preceding days, I had been trying my best to stifle my lust for her. I figured it was a one-way crush that would pass if I just focused on more mundane things.

I can’t recall whether we gave each other a perfunctory hug when she walked in. Maybe we just shook hands. She might recall….she has a great memory for these things.  But I was trying to be very business like.

I offered her coffee, showed her a chair, then moved behind my desk.

“So what’s up, Molly…. “

That’s when, in a very business like fashion, she explained that she was calling my bluff…. That it was obvious that I was coming on to her these last few weeks, and that if I was ready, well, she was in….

I was stunned.


And also scared shitless.

I was ready for rejection. In fact, I had already resigned myself to rejection.

And now…. Well. The opportunity to take this step with the lovely Molly seemed almost too good to be true.

I was like a wide receiver, alone in the end zone, a tight spiral heading for my unencumbered hands for the winning touchdown.

And what did I do?

Well, of course, I dropped the ball.

I mumbled something like not being sure, and what about our spouses, and the primary created a false sense of connection, blah, blah. Blah.

And as I listened to myself, there was another voice screaming at me…. Are you crazy Mick, just stand up, go over there and kiss her!!!!! Isn’t that what you’ve been waiting for?

(Was it Bogie from “Play it Again Sam”?. Could be.)

Well, it’s probably time for me to wake Mistress…. All this typing about our early days has awoken certain appetites.  And now that I’ve gotten started, I’m looking forward to hearing  her memory on this subject, presumably while my mouth and tongue are suitably distracted.

Let us know if you want more details in this “Secret Origins of Molly and Mick” stuff.

And yes, I made sure Molly got off… twice in fact… during her visit yesterday afternoon.


Anonymous said...

Of course we want more of this sexy, enticing narrative.


Anonymous said...

Yes, please continue. "Beginnings" are always particularly interesting and hot.

sin said...

Oh Mick. Tsk. You totally dropped the ball. No wonder you have to beg now. Sad. And yes of course we want more.

Donna said...

In our sad state there is talk of printing our very own currency, declaring that two or three families banding together to indoctrinate their children in hatred will be called a charter school to receive funding (vouchers), and the biggie - if a gun is made in this state it won't fall under federal regulation. That one may be understandable because we really need some homemade Uzis to protect ourselves from the vicious squirrels. I can only assume there is stupid juice being added to the water at the capitol.

But on to cumming attractions, Aisha has me keeping track of our CEO's...successes. She has quite a line of tally marks already for the month of March. A high five to Mick and WC and the makers of the Hitachi Wand, too!

What an inspiration our CEO is! And to know that she marched right into your office that day and said what she wanted...she rocks! Forgive me Mick, but in today's story it seems that you sucked...say, was that the inspiration for you sucking (and licking) our CEO every day in the office? Just wondering.

WC said...

Hey Donna,

It is always great to read you and Bill's comments. I think the stupid juice if flowing all over the Country. My favorite is that they called themselfs teabaggers in the first place. I am sure you know this, but tharm used to mean placing your balls on another mans face to be licked.

Too too funny, that has always cracked me up. I supose they could be a branch of the log cabin republicans, but some how I doubt it.

I hope this finds you and Bill well and Dry, and able to replenish your coffee supplies.

Your good friend and hopefully new union steward,

Miguel aka WC/PT/teamster union steward,

Suzanne said...

Well...having been away for so long and with so much to say, I don't know where to start.

First...glad to hear that Molly's appearance in your office yesterday was able to get your mind off the right wing rants coming from your governor. If it hadn't, I would really be worried about you.

Also...I think Dukakis' ride in the tank really did him in that year don't you?

Having just returned from Florida to visit my Aunt Louise and see the Red Sox, I can surely echo your comments, and even provide you with new material if necessary :)

Love your little love story guys are indeed very fortunate.

Thanks for the org chart!

WC - glad to see you are back. Rumor has it you were given the "Last Rites" on line. Is that true?

WC said...

Glad you are home safe and sound Suzanne,

I wouldn't exacltly call them last rites, but it is good to be back. We all missed your blog, look forward to the 3 of you and your continuing adventures.

The is back in the saddle,


UCTMW Enterprises Management Team said...

I am glad you enjoyed the story, and the little cliffhanger entry. Mistress says she wants to add her thoughts, so look forward to those tomorrow. and by the way, I am also informed that the WC, her new personal trainer has her on orgasm restriction until their "consultation" tomorrow morning. I suppose it's good she had a chance to stop by my office for some personal attention at lunch time today. Mick

Little Butterfly said...

Can't wait to hear more!

beingaisha said...

Yes, I want more!

And thanks to the WC for that insight into the meaning of teabaggers! I didn't know that, and will enjoy the idea now.

Can't wait to hear Molly's views. Like Donna, I admire her courage for saying what she wanted.


WC said...

Hey Aisha,

Thanks for the kind words. My second favorite was the teebagger who had the sign, "KEEP THE GOVERNMENT OUT OF MY MEDICARE!!!

You can't make this shit up! Nobody would believe its true

Too too funny,

The laughing his ass off,