From a reviewer "good story was lost in the technique". Here is just the story.
I’m standing in her office trying to help her understand how the new software works. It’s a part of the job that I do often, and one I really enjoy. Today’s experience brings new meaning to enjoy.
I stand behind her looking over her shoulder at her screen. Watching her move the mouse around the fields she is definitely struggling despite my help. She insists on trying to get it right on her own, and I take half a step back and to her right and observer.
We’ve know each other for nigh on 20 years and I consider her a friend. She is one of my best friends here at work. We are both around 50, but honestly she could pass for younger. We have many things in common. We both have boys, her two me three. Both of us have been through difficult times with one son. Which is worse substance abuse or a child out of wedlock? Does it even matter?
I won’t deny that I find her attractive, but honestly while I enjoy her good looks I’ve never thought of her in an inappropriate way. Until today…at least… well you will see.
So while she’s working I glance from the screen to her. My eyes are drawn to her chest, where her dress has fallen open slightly revealing a fair amount of cleavage. She is wearing a gold dress with a light black pattern with a v-neck.
So slightly embarrassed and admittedly afraid of her catching me, I look back to her face and then the screen. She is focused on the work.
Despite my efforts (were there any really?) I look back to her chest. The top of her dress has moved slightly and I view her left breast nestled in a white cup with lace accents. She’s not particularly buxom, probably a b cup but the view is enticing. The cup is cut fairly low. Low enough I can see a distinction between a part of her that is well tanned, and a part that does not see the sun. The line becomes intoxicating.
My god I have to stop this. I look away. Hoping that I’m not about to be confronted about my behavior? No sign that she has noticed.
She stops working and asks a question. I have her repeat it not hearing a word. I wonder if I’m blushing? Certainly I feel increased blood flow to my face …elsewhere maybe?
Her question answered she returns to working. Her question answered I return my eyes downward. The movements have shifted he body, her cup pushes out and away. And then a brief glimpse of a second change in skin tone. Her areola. Not much there just a quarter inch if that, but more than I should have ever expected to see. More than I should see ever.
My pulse elevates. My heart beats faster. I am sure now I am blushing. My entire body tingles in …in… in what? Excitement? Yes! Arousal? OK yes! But more than anything I feel guilt.
More movement and there it is! Her nipple appears! I can see all of it from the base of her areola to the tip. It’s not erect, but why would it be. It’s not like she’s aroused is it? That is reserved for me.
I make sure she doesn’t see me looking and look again. Light brown. The tip about the size of a pencil.
Her areola is maybe two inches across. Larger than I would have thought. Wait. Have I thought of this before?
More conversation and I look away. My gaze returns. Still there.
She shifts and it is gone.
Am I disappointed? Yes. Relieved? In a way I can’t explain. She didn’t catch me, or if she did she gave no indication. No shocked look or comment. No sudden move to cover up.
Was it intentional? Even if I would like to think that, I can’t believe it to be true. Only someone standing behind her to her side like I was could have seen it. Besides never anything unprofessional between us before. That’s assuming either of us did anything wrong this time.
Did I? Did she? Do anything wrong?
Well I probably could have not looked after the first peek. She could have been more aware of how she was dressed. No, neither of us was at fault.
So do I feel guilty? Should I feel guilty?
Undoubtedly yes. I don’t think so.
Yes I did look twice. Only twice??
Days later the images of her breast, her tanline, her areola, her nipple burned into my mind. They won’t go away. I don’t want them to go away.
The guilt has faded some. Did I take advantage? Is that wrong?
Remembering I still smile.
So would I? Look again?
I think we know….