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Suddenly, I think we both realized that we had each been talking to a complete stranger. I asked her if her name was Nancy. “No,” she replied, and then she said, “So you’re not Dean?” We both laughed and then I told her I had enjoyed our conversation and she agreed with me. We chatted a little longer and then we said good bye and hung up. I thought it was pretty funny at first, and then I started thinking that I should have kept the conversation going. After all, you never know when you might get lucky!One evening, after I arrived home from work, my wife seemed a little nervous or at the very least, she seemed to be acting a little standoffish. She seemed very preoccupied throughout dinner and didn’t say much of anything of consequence. As we settled in to watch a little TV, I cuddled up close to her on the couch. I like to nestle in between her arm and one of her tits. I especially like it when she’s not wearing a bra. That night was one of those braless evenings.She had on one of. It wasn’t like Linnea didn’t know who I was — the staff wasn’t that large — but she could have anybody she wanted, I was barely on her radar. I was glad I worked for Irene. She was big on discipline and etiquette, but there wasn’t a mean bone in her body. I slowly pushed her designer skirt up to her hips and buried my face between her cheeks. Yum, I thought, wetting my tongue in her moist pussy before concentrating on her wonderful rosebud. Suddenly Irene was pushing me away, I sat back on my heels and followed her gaze to the office doorway. ‘Oh, geez, I’m really sorry, Irene, but…’ Cammy, the new girl, looked more than a little flustered. I think she’d been hired on as an intern or something, but ‘intelligence’ or ‘decisiveness’ weren’t words that came to mind when I thought of her. Unlike, say, ‘juicy’ or ‘delectable.’ ‘What’s wrong, Cam?’ asked Irene, as she brushed her skirt down and turned so she could sit on the desk. It was one of the things I liked about Irene, she was.
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