Monday funnies and a sweater

Mondays can be interesting. It is difficult to get enthusiastic about them, especially when you have to go to work after a relaxing weekend. However, when something comical happens on a Monday, it certainly brightens up your day.

I got to work at my usual time and cut through the communal kitchen. I went to the water cooler to fill up my water bottle. I then headed towards the second door.

Well, I noticed that someone was opening that door. So, I just stood there. It was my boss. He looked at me and was startled. Yes, I had scared him.

He laughed. I would have laughed normally, but I wasn't sure how to react. He eventually cracked me up.

"Well, hi there, Cutiebootie!" he said, laughing, while also being a bit embarrassed.

That remark did it. I was laughing hard. We both were.

"I'm sorry for giving you a heart attack," I said and we parted ways.

My guy is in meetings all week. He came to see me at around 17:30. We talked. It was nice to see him.

I told my guy about startling our boss.

"Any man would love to bump into an attractive woman," he admitted. "I would love to bump into you. I want to bump into you more often."

My guy is genuinely sweet. I have been working on a set of marketing documents. As you can probably tell from my posts, I am not cut out to be writing marketing materials. I am too direct. I don't fluff. But, I have to complete this task for work.

"I am brain-dead," I said to my guy, as I was tired writing fluff.
"You are never brain-dead," he said. "You are always sharp as a tack."
"That's better than being tacky," I joked, which made him smile.

My guy looked at my beige sweater. Whenever I wear it, it makes him wonder whether it is new. I couldn't figure out why he liked it so much until we both headed home for the day.

Unfortunately, we didn't have the elevator to ourselves. We did get to the ground floor and talked for a bit.

"I really like your sweater," he said to me.
"Thanks," I replied.
"I love how it's cut on you. It's thin enough to see the shape of your bra underneath. Your sweater highlights your boobs nicely," he complimented.
"I see," I replied.
"I am getting hard now," he admitted.
"I wish that I could reach out and touch it, kind of like that Bell commercial from decades ago," I replied. "I could make a long-distance call."

We both chuckled. We wished each other a good evening. We kissed. It was a nice end to a Monday.

Dopey aftermath

My guy once told me that our conversations after sex are the best ones, simply because we are both in a dopey, euphoric mood. I completely concur. Last Wednesday was no exception.

After he had ejaculated, we were looking for paper towel to clean up. Well, he had run out, but had remembered to take some paper towels from the washroom before he left work. Unfortunately, they weren't exactly absorbent, but they did do an okay job -- just required more of them!

My guy and I cuddled. He started creating an infomercial about a new product called "hard and happy." It made us both laugh. The product was super-absorbent paper towel that you could find in the men's washroom for guys who needed to clean up their messes after ejaculation. The paper towel had to be gentle to not cause any chaffing, but strong enough to soak up semen.

He then attempted to market a similar product for women who get horny and wet after having their buttocks get groped and spanked. Yes, he was targeting naughty girls like me.

We had a nice chat about everything under the sun. He had told me several months ago that he had dreamt about kissing a complete stranger. However, those lips were mine and the way in which he was being kissed was all me. I had a similar dream a couple of Sundays ago.

I had dreamt that I was kissing a lead singer of a rock band that I have loved for years. I was really kissing my guy, though. I told my guy that I woke up happy that morning, which was true. He thought that it was sweet and lovingly stroked my face with his finger.

We don't normally have analytical conversations about how our relationship is going. We just know that we like being together, and respect and love each other. My guy said that we have a lot of chemistry. He is more aware of these sorts of things than I am. I am more of an intuitive, things-feel-right type. I agreed with him. We are similar in personality. We're not exact mirror images, but we are on the same bandwidth most of the time, which is helpful.

We are also pretty geeky. We embraced before we left the treehouse.

"You are the best," he whispered in my ear.
"You are the best, too," I said.

After our long, nice hug, we talked a bit more.

"We can't both be the best unless we think of the events as being distinct, as in mathematics. Then, it all makes sense."

I looked at him lovingly.

"I love how geeky you are, which is what I love about you."

I kissed him sweetly on his full lips. He wanted another kiss. I didn't hesitate.

"You kiss so sweetly," he replied with a smile.

It takes a sweet person to know one, I suppose.

Treehouse time and it's Wednesday again

Wednesdays seem to be treehouse days as of late. Frankly, I didn't think that this past Wednesday would be one of those occasions.

I got to work and my guy was at his desk, looking like he wanted to take a nap. He didn't notice that I had walked in until I said hi.

I asked how he was. He said that he was okay. To me, that response indicates that he's not as good as he could be. He admitted that he wasn't feeling his normal self. My guess was that he was at his desk. He has been on the road and in meetings as of late. All that activity has suddenly ended. He doesn't exactly know what to do with himself.

I did manage to lift his spirits. He had overheard a conversation that I was having with another writer. I was telling her how much I disliked how one user guide was written by a previous writer. It wasn't useful in that it didn't tell readers how to actually use our software product.

My guy felt the need to add his two cents, basically teasing me about my stance. He truly felt the same way as I did about the user guide, but he likes to see if he can get me worked up.

Somehow, we ended up talking about giving birth on an airplane. I managed to state that I could picture the husband or significant other trying to help with the baby's delivery, but feeling queasy. So, the oxygen masks would drop from the overhead bins, which cracked both of us up.

I decided to get up from my desk and head to the washroom. My guy followed suit.

"You're not following me, are you?" I asked him. I knew that my question was rhetorical.
"Not at all," he said. "It's purely coincidental."

We typically cut through the communal kitchen to head out to the elevators. The kitchen door closed. My guy groped my right buttock. I was turned on and caressed the back of his neck.

We went through the second set of doors. He groped me again. I was even more aroused.

"I don't know what to do now," I admitted, feeling like Jell-O.
"Well, we can fix that after work," he hinted, which meant quality time.
"I'd like that," I admitted. He smiled back at me.

My guy had swiped a box of East Indian sweets that was in the communal kitchen. They were left there by a fellow employee to celebrate the birth of his first child. My guy came up to my desk and offered me some goodies. He then passed them around to others.

He is sweet that way. He always offers these things to me first. The part-time (PT) writer, who annoys me these days, hasn't quite picked up on the fact that he finds her to be phoney and insincere. She proved it to him once again.

"Are you going to the Christmas party?" asked a colleague who was passing by our cubicle area and directed her question at my guy.
"I will be your date," PT yelled out, always overhearing every conversation in the area.
"I don't think that your husband would approve," my guy responded, which shut her down.

Frankly, PT is not exactly a sensitive, caring person. I wasn't annoyed that she had said what she had said. My guy is sweet and I am lucky to have him. However, it was inappropriate and my guy did a good job at telling her no in his own way.

My guy ended up offering home-buying advice to another colleague. I didn't want to interrupt their conversation, but I was ready to leave. So, I said goodnight to both of them and headed out the door. My guy started to pack up, so I knew that my subtle hint had got across just fine.

We drove to our usual spot and got into my guy's car. He helped me take my hoodie off.

"How are you?" he asked me, placing his right hand on my thigh.
"I'm good," I said.
"You're not just good," he pointed out. "You're sweet, sexy, attractive, and wonderful."
"I see that your smooth side is coming out."
"It's the truth," he stated and started kissing me.

As usual, we kissed a lot and often. He touched my left side, which made me giggle. I am a ticklish girl. We continued to kiss. He caressed my breasts. I touched his chest and arm.

He reached down toward the fly of my pants. He was trying to unbutton it, which made me giggle some more. He managed to pull down my pants and my black lacy panties.

He touched my tummy, which continued to make me giggle.

"I like that you're ticklish. It's sweet," he admitted, and kissed my tummy.

My guy fingered my clit. I was fully reclined in the backseat. I was relaxed.

"I have missed touching you," he said. It was my time of the month the last time we were in the treehouse.
"I have missed your touching me, too," I admitted. "I feel like a slut."
"Good," he agreed.
"I'm in the backseat being fingered by a cute guy."

Soon, he had another finger up my butthole. I was so turned in. It took me a few more minutes before I climaxed. I then rested in his arms, as limp as can be. He lightly swatted my bare left buttock. It was sweet.

I snapped out of it after a few moments. We kissed and hugged some more. I recall my guy saying something to me, which prompted me to automatically call him sweetie. He knows that I mean it when I call him by that nickname. I don't say it as often as I should. I do say that he is sweet all the time, though. I don't know why that is. However, we both know that I truly mean it when I use it.

I touched my guy's penis, which I confirmed to both of us that it was erect in his trousers. He undid his belt and trousers, and then slid his briefs down. I gave my guy a handjob. He fingered my butthole again.

"You do know that I have my entire middle finger up your ass?" he asked me rhetorically.
"Yes," I replied. "I like it when you fuck me all the way up my ass."

He came immediately. Moments later, I came. It was a nice moment.

Part two will continue in another post.

Made-up words and a meaningful hug

My guy has a habit of making up words. Whenever he does add a new word to what I call my guy's dictionary of wacky words, I give him a you-are-crazy-but-you're-cute stare.

My guy tends to say thingy often. I am a writer by trade and fend off the temptation to not use it.

Last Friday, at the end of the day, I cracked. During our entire conversation, I said thingy three times.

"I can't believe that I used thingy three times today," I said, almost shocked.
"I guess that I am rubbing off on you," my guy stated.
"Rubbing in more ways than one," I said in a cheeky tone, which made him smirk.

My guy reminded me of my usage of his fine word on Monday. I have a feeling that it will be used as a reason for spanking me soon.

On Monday afternoon, my guy came over to my desk. He ended up sitting on my desk. I was wearing my double v-neck navy blue sweater. My guy was wearing his new wool sweater. It was also blue, which is a colour that looks great on him.

We talked about how sweaters tend to fuzz. My sweater was a silk-cashmere blend. He touched my forearm and loved how soft my sweater felt. I reciprocated, feeling his right forearm. I liked how soft his sweater was, too. I ended up squeezing his forearm.

My guy was holding my right hand, admiring my manicured nails. We talked a few minutes more. He then had to leave, but not without squeezing my upper arm.

We left work that night. We got into the elevator. It was ours. The doors closed.

"Come here," my guy said to me, extending his comforting arms out.

We didn't kiss like we normally do. He wanted a hug. We embraced for the entire duration of our elevator ride. It was a great hug. No words needed to be exchanged. It simply felt good.

Souvenir from Amsterdam

My guy claims that he is horrible at the art of gift-giving. I disagree. Well, he is better now at it than he was a year ago.

As you know, my guy travels quite a bit. When we first started seeing each other, we bought me chocolates and a mug from Portugal. He then went to Germany and bought me another mug.

Although I have always appreciated that he thinks about me when he is away, the trend of getting a mug each time was a bit scary. He agreed and has mixed things up quite a bit since our little chat. Frankly, it was difficult to delicately tell him that I can only drink out of so many mugs in a week. He was incredibly understanding.

Last Friday, we were talking in the office. My guy opened one of his desk drawers and took out a carefully wrapped package. He told me that he has had it all week and meant to give it to me. I thanked him and unwrapped it.

He gave me this cute momento from Amsterdam:

"It's nice," I said. "The couple reminds me of us. We kiss a lot."
"Yes," my guy agreed. "There is some assembly required. The windmill requires screwing. So, if you need screwing, you know where to go."
"The blue reminds me of how good you look in that colour," I pointed out.
"Too bad the boy doesn't show how hard his cock is," my guy stated with a sheepish grin on his face.
"It's just anatomically incorrect," I said factually. "There's also a hole at the bottom of the windmill."

Yep, I had my finger up the windmill. My guy laughed at our sexually innuendo-laced conversation.

My guy wanted to get me salt and pepper shakers that were penises. That would have been funny if they said something or moaned while I had my hands wrapped around them.

He's back and so was treehouse time!

On Monday, my guy and I saw each other at work for the first time in over a week. Seeing him was a sight for sore eyes. I mean that literally. I was working away at my cubicle, staring at the computer monitor when he walked in.

We talked for quite some time. It was nice to catch up.

What? We didn't immediately drive over to our regular spot and climb into the treehouse? Oddly, no, we didn't. We chatted for what seemed to be hours.

Treehouse time was on Wednesday.

My guy was in a training class all week. Our company has clients in this training class who do pre-sales. On Monday, my guy had mentioned to me that the class was boring and suggested that I come visit him.

So, he came up from the training room to see me on Wednesday. We could both tell just by looking at each other that we were happy to see each other. He asked me how my drive into work was. I asked him how training was going. It was a nice ten-minute chat.

I then whispered to my guy whether the offer to visit this training class was still on. It was.

Did I tell you that the part-time writer at work drives me nuts? Well, going to this training class was a nice diversion. I took my laptop and cell phone with me, and walked to the elevators with my guy.

We got into an elevator. We had it all to ourselves. The doors closed. I caressed the back of his head as our lips met. My guy was hugging me with one hand and rubbing my crotch with the other.

"I've missed you," I said, as we briefly parted lips for a few seconds.
"I have missed you, too."

We kissed a bit more before we got to the main floor. We walked to the training room. My guy introduced me to the four clients. The training course then continued.

I had taken this course a couple of weeks ago, so I had all the examples coded and took them out. My guy sat next to me. He discreetly touched my back and right shoulder. It was nice.

After the course was over for the day, my guy and I walked out of the room, and waited for an elevator. We got into yet another empty one. We got in. The doors closed.

"You look exceptionally pretty today," he said to me in a seductive tone.
"I think you're delusional," I said, as I leaned in to kiss him.
"Maybe I have just missed you," he admitted, as we kissed again.

The doors opened a floor earlier than expected. We hit the proper floor number.

"I don't know what I am doing," my guy stated.
"Me, neither. It's okay," I responded, as we kissed some more.

The doors opened. We got out of the elevator. It was the correct floor, too.

"Let's get out of here and have some treehouse time," my guy stated.
"Sounds perfect."

The only thing that wasn't perfect was that it was my time of the month. So, I couldn't share the fun of using my new vibrator with my guy. It just meant that I could focus more on my guy.

We drove to our usual spot and got into the treehouse. We held hands. He kissed the back of my hand, which he finds smooth. We continued from where we had left off. We locked lips and kissed. French kissed. Licked lips. Kissed.

My guy kissed my chin, which he has always found to be cute. He proceeded to kiss my face and my neck.

My hand moved down to his left side. He did the same to my right side, except that I started to giggle. I am ticklish.

"You are so sweet," he said to me.
"Because I am ticklish, right?"

My guy finds my being ticklish to be sweet and cute. It doesn't bother him one bit.

I had my left hand squeezing his right thigh. He moved my left hand over to his crotch. His penis was hard. I held it in my hand. It was erect.

He unbuckled his belt and unzipped his trousers, pulling them and his briefs off. I started to jerk him off.

"You are so angelic," he said in a relaxed voice.
"I am your angelic slut," I said.
"I love that."
"I am angelic to everyone. But, no one knows that I have another side. I am your slut and only we know about that side."
"I love both your sides," he stated, as I continued to give him a handjob.

Last week on Skype, my guy had pointed out that it has been a while since I gave him a blowjob. So, I made amends and went down on him, inviting his hard cock into my mouth. I sucked the tip of it for a bit before I started licking his cock's shaft while moving my lips up and down it. He moved his hand down to my left buttock. He pinched and groped it. It turned me on immensely.

My guy was thoroughly enjoying it. I moved my hand from under his right thigh and played with his balls.

Moments later, he came. He entered dopey mode. I asked him if he was happy. He was. His being happy makes me happy.

"It's nice that I can touch both your heads simultaneously," I said, with my right hand still holding his cock and my left hand caressing his head. He laughed.

What was particularly special to me was my kissing his forehead and head several times. At one point, I rested my cheek on his head between kisses. I enjoy tender moments like this one. He had a permanent smile on his face.

We definitely had missed each other. We talked for quite a bit afterward. It was nice to catch up and to spend some quality time with him again.

Dopiness, new vibrator, and Skype

I have mentioned in the past that my guy tends to initiate Skype chats. I used to initiate writing e-mails to him.

I am not sure why I stopped writing them. I think that it was mainly because my guy didn't respond to them for days. I just gave up. It was a lot faster to talk to him over the phone or to text him.

As of late, my guy has been writing more e-mails to me. I am uncertain why there is this sudden shift. The only explanation I can come up with is that he misses me. He should be on his way home from The Hague right now.

Last Tuesday, he wrote me a short e-mail. I'll just quote the first few sentences. The rest of the e-mail only makes sense if you work for the same company!

Hey there dopey girl,

How are you doing? Hope all is good and you're back to your sober self (not that the dopey version of you is not a lot of fun :)).

I'm trying to survive here with a group of folks who have more questions than the Trebek dude :)

Tuesday was a bit hectic for me. I was working from home and was about to turn off my work laptop. My guy sent me a message on Skype. He caught me at a good time. He wanted to voice-chat. So, we did.

Recently, I got a new vibrator. I told my guy about it. I don't have too many sex toys. This vibrator was regularly priced at $65, but I bought it on sale for $5. The geeky part about this vibrator is that you can plug it into your iPhone or iPod touch, and play music. The vibrator then vibrates to the beat of whatever song you are playing. My guy was equally intrigued as I was about this device. It finally arrived late last week. I just need to get AAA batteries to test it out. My guy wants to test it out with me. Yay!

We reflected on our time in the hotel. I didn't think that we'd have another opportunity like that. My guy said that he'd tell my boss that he wanted to screw me and that he would get the room. Yes, he was joking. It was also sweet that he was thinking of me and missing me terribly.

He thought that I was sweet when I was so dopey. I remember all of it. I just was too dopey to react. We both agreed that the dry humping from behind was enjoyable.

We went into phone sex. I actually wanted to get him off. What did the trick? I said the following:

I want you to spank me hard. You will want to fuck me from behind afterward and I will resist. But, secretly, I want you to take advantage of me. Although I will deny liking it, I truly want you to, because I am your slut and I'd do anything for you.

My guy said my name as if it were a mantra after hearing what I had said and came. He made my day.

I miss him. I especially miss him tonight.

Getting spanked and finding myself in dopey mode

Last Friday was my last day of a four-day training course. I got to work later than usual, thanks to waiting for the slowest train you could encounter that was crossing a major street. I have no idea why this street does not have an overpass for trains. I don't even understand why a long cargo train would crawl that slowly during rush hour.

Anyway, I got to work at around 08:40 after I had taken an alternative route. My guy got to work even later. He told me that traffic going eastbound along highway 401 was horrible. He actually had to take the 403 to get to work. So, he arrived at 09:40.

As you know, my guy and I keep a working relationship when we're at work. On Friday, it was too difficult for us. Just when I thought that my guy couldn't get any sweeter than he already is, he completely proves me wrong.

He walked into the training room, passed by me, and discreetly poked my right side. Of course, I immediately squirmed, for I am ticklish. I asked him later if the poke was deliberate. It was.

Lunch time had finally arrived. Practically everyone evacuated the training room. My guy came back about fifteen minutes later and noticed that I was still there.

"How come you didn't come upstairs?" he asked me. "Is it that bad?"
"I just don't want to talk to the part-time writer," I admitted. "Every time she opens her mouth, I feel like I have to challenge whatever nonsense come out of her."

My guy nodded. He got his sandwich and sat next to me. We ate and talked. He then went over to the window and closed the blinds.

He sat next to me again. He leaned over and kissed me on the lips. We kissed for quite a bit. My left hand held his. My right arm was giving him a side hug. I then proceeded to rub his head.

We stopped for a brief period. My guy went to lock the main door.

He came back and made me come. It was quite the lunch break. My guy had to comment again about the double v-neck sweater that I had worn to work the other day. He felt that it was feminine and sexy. I wanted to blush!

We spent another few hours in the course. When our class was over, we headed upstairs.

We got into the lunch room. I was leading the way.

"Stop!" he said. I did. We kissed. He groped my buttocks. I was melting.
"How am I supposed to go back and do work?" I asked him rhetorically.

My guy is off to The Hague next week. We talked for a bit before we called it a week.

We got into an empty elevator. Yes, we kissed some more as if we were high school sweethearts. He groped my buttocks again. I felt like Jell-O!

"How about we spend some time in the treehouse?" he proposed.
"Sounds good," I said.
"You can ride with me," he said.

So, we got in his car and he drove us to our regular spot. We climbed into the backseat. He showed me a wool sweater that he had bought. It felt nice. It was blue, which he looks good in.

We continued to kiss. He made me reach orgasm again by simply rubbing me with my jeans on.

It wasn't enough. We both knew it. He put his hand down my jeans and panties. He fingered my butt and my clit. Moments later, I climaxed. It was nice. I was starting to get dopey.

I touched his cock, which was as hard as a rock. He whispered in my ear.

"Today isn't about me. It's about you," he said, gently moving my hand away from his member and carefully placing my hand on my lap as he kissed me.

He lightly slapped by backside four times. He then gave me a few hard smacks over my jeans.

"What's that for?" I asked innocently.
"It's for being a bad girl," he stated, pinching each cheek in between smacks.
"I don't think I deserved to be punished," I reasoned. It didn't matter to him, as he continued to work on my backside.
"You are such a slut," he said. "You've been naughty. Do you agree?"
"I've been a good girl," I said defiantly.
"Oh, really?" he said in a surprised tone.

I pushed the right button. He spanked me hard. For the first time, he spanked me six times in rapid succession. He normally spanks me methodically. He was spanking me both out of pleasure and in a disciplining, you-need-this-punishment way, which was an incredible turn-on.

He pinched my backside as hard as he was spanking me. I loved it. My butt was getting sore. He scolded me during the entire session. I liked it.

He stopped and kissed me. We hugged for a bit. My guy wanted to touch me. He undid my jeans and played with my clit.

"You are really wet," he told me.
"Is that surprising to you?" I said with a smile.

Yep, he pleasured me so well that I came again.

"You are so easy to pleasure," he said.
"You do a great job," I said, in quite a dopey state of mind.
"You deserve it."

My guy found my dopey state to be both cute and sweet. He was pinching my vagina, aggressively groping my breasts, and slapping me on my right cheek. I actually had to put my hand on top of his and tell him to stop slapping my face. He was trying to wake me up from being dopey, but he loved the thought of taking advantage of me.

My guy tickled me. All I recall is holding both his hands down with mine, as if I were handcuffing him. He crawled over me to get out of the car. It felt like he was on top of me in the backseat, kind of playing Twister, but without the colour-coded vinyl map.

"Are you humping me?" I asked in a dazed voice.
"Yes," he said, simulating anal sex, but with our clothes on.

I am not sure how I managed to get out of the backseat and into the passenger shotgun seat, but I did. I sounded dopey. My guy smiled at me. He thought that it was endearing. He drove me to my car.

"Tonight should sustain you while I am gone," he told me.
"It probably will," I said.
"Will you be okay?" he asked me.
"I think so."
"Have your car window down for a bit to get some fresh air," he suggested. "We'll talk on Skype soon."
"Maybe," I said, which is my way of saying yes.

I got out of the treehouse. It was a nice evening. I knew that I would sleep well. I could tell that he was going to miss me as much as I tend to miss him when he is away on business.

Infinite sweetness

My guy is sweet. This week, he has been exceptionally sweet.

We're in a training class together all this week. On Thursday, I had to install new software that we're developing at our workplace. For some reason, I could not run a script using the software. My guy and I were trying to troubleshoot this problem, as this script had worked fine in previous versions. We couldn't figure it out. I wanted to go home and call it a day.

Lunch rolled around. My guy left for a bit. I stayed in the training room to try and troubleshoot. My guy came back and said that he was hungry. He wanted to get something at the local restaurant. I was munching on catered food for this course. He asked me if I wanted anything. I asked for a bowl of chili. It was so thoughtful of him to ask.

Sure enough, he got me some chili with a sourdough roll. It hit the spot and made my day. We then continued our training session.

At the end of the session, my guy looked at my laptop, cables, and water bottle that I was carrying and immediately took my laptop from me. He carried it up to my cubicle. He's quite the catch. I am a lucky girl.

He looked at my outfit that I was wearing. I had a silk-cashmere blue sweater and a tight pair of green khakis on. My sweater had a double v-neck on the front and back. My guy commented that it looked good on me. He has seen me wear it before, but I had only worn it once last winter.

At the end of the day, I told him how exceptionally sweet he was throughout the day and that I wasn't expecting so much sweetness all at once. He told me to have it coded in an infinite loop. Yes, we both are geeky, which is one reason why we get along well.

He makes me feel incredibly special. It does feel like we're in high school sometimes. I don't mind it.

My guy is off to The Hague for a one-week business trip. Just when you think that he has maximized how sweet he can be, he completely proves me wrong. Stay tuned for that post.

Showered and spanked

My guy came back from his two-week business trip to India. He was supposed to return last Friday night. Unfortunately, he had missed two of his flight segments and his luggage got lost. The good news was that he did get his luggage delivered to him on the weekend.

My guy was in a training session on Monday. Like clockwork, I got to work in the afternoon. He managed to come upstairs to say hi. I could tell by how he was looking at me that he had missed me a lot.

He looked good. He was wearing a blue sweater and grey slacks. He sat on my desk and we talked for fifteen minutes. He looked at my face, my hair, my chest, and my legs as we talked. It reminded me of when we first started seeing each other.

He had to go back to his training session. He told me that he loved seeing me, and touched my arm and back. He is sweet to drop subtle hints like that.

Later on in the afternoon, he came over to my desk again. I was standing up. He groped my backside. I turned into mush. I couldn't concentrate for a brief period.

What was going to happen next took me by surprise.

Winds were picking up throughout the day, thanks to Hurricane Sandy. The greater Toronto area wouldn't be hit hard. Still, the winds were gusty and it was raining all day.

My guy lives an hour away. It took him two hours to get to work. He talked to our boss about the wind and his commute. Somehow, my guy managed to convince our boss to have the former stay overnight at a local hotel. My guy just had his gym bag with clean workout clothes and deodorant. So, at least he could sleep in those clothes as if they were pajamas.

It was 18:00. I was heading home. My guy looked up at me and quietly mouthed to stay with him. I decided to sit next to him at his cubicle and talk.

My guy looked at my chest again. I teased him about it. He smiled.

"I have a room for the night," he said.
"That's pretty subtle," I said, grinning.
"It would be nice to hug you in a place other than the treehouse," he said.
"Okay," I said, without much convincing.

We left work together. We got into an empty elevator. We kissed passionately. He groped my buttocks. I felt like mush again. It was lovely.

We drove over to the hotel. My guy checked in to room 1307. Nope, we're not superstitious. The room was comfy. It had a king-sized bed.

We kissed. We hugged. He pressed his hard cock against me.

"Let's take a shower together," he suggested. "It'll be fun."
"What if I don't want to," I whispered in his ear, still in an embrace.
"You'll be spanked hard," he said, as we continued to kiss and hug.

I was wearing a purple sweater with a zipper on its left shoulder. He unzipped it and saw my navy blue bra with lace. He liked it. He took my sweater off and he did the same with his navy blue wool sweater. We hugged and kissed some more. He unbuttoned and unzipped my pants, and proceeded to do the same with his trousers. We continued to hug and kiss as if we needed the practice. We both groped each other's buttocks. It was sweet and arousing.

More kissing and hugging ensured. We talked briefly again.

"Would you like to shower with me?" he asked, with an eager tone to his voice.
"Maybe," I said shyly, which made him smile. It was my way of saying yes.

We moved to the bathroom. We continued to hug and kiss. He unfastened my bra and groped my breasts standing behind me. My bra slipped to the floor. He pulled down my black lacy panties and then took his briefs off. He held my hand and led me to the shower.

He found the soap and unwrapped it. He turned on the water. He lathered me up first, groping my breasts and proceeding to lathered my chest and tummy. He fingered my pussy, and then continued to lather my legs. I then turned around and he lathered my back and backside. I couldn't help but to kiss him as a compliment.

He then lathered himself up. I massaged his chest and head with my hands. I held his erect cock. We kissed some more as we both rinsed off.

He got out of the shower first and found a bath towel. He dried me off and wrapped it around me. He makes me feel like a doll sometimes. He is sweet. The towel looked like a white mini dress on me. He said that he loved the look of my legs. He proceeded to find another towel to dry himself off.

We then got into bed. Yes, we continued to kiss and hug.

"You have been bad," he said, smacking my bare, somewhat damp backside with his hand.
"What's the reason for my punishment?" I asked him.
"Why do you need a reason?" he asked me, continuing to spank my bare bottom hard.
"I simply need one to understand what I have done," I pointed out.
"You don't need one. You are just a bad girl," he insisted, smacking me harder and harder.

He then played with my clit and made me reach orgasm. It was intense. I had clearly missed him.

The feeling was mutual. He pleasured me again, this time fingering my butt and pussy. Wow!

Our legs were intertwined. It arouses both of us. I find it highly sexy. His left leg was between both of mine. I gave him a hand job while we French kissed. I enjoy using my tongue to outline his full, smooth lips. He was clearly enjoying the entire experience, ultimately ejaculating and feeling dopey afterward.

We cuddled for over an hour. I got to stroke his chest. He wrapped his left arm around me. We watched TV and talked for a bit. It was nice spending quality time again.

My guy got me a present from his trip to India. He got me a snake charmer flute (pungi). I blew a note from the wooden instrument. I teased him that it reminded me of him. It was long, hard, and had a young coconut representing a ball. He thought that it may come in handy for spanking me. I wondered whether it would charm his own snake. We are weird sometimes, but we're never dull.

We both were hungry, so we decided to go out for a bite. We ended up at a restaurant about twenty minutes away from work. He had a steak sandwich on a bun with fries. I had halibut fish and chips. We talked. It was still pretty windy and rainy outside. It was a sweet date night.

My guy is sweet. He drove us to the restaurant and he drove me to my car. We kissed and hugged one last time. On the radio, all we heard was "a piece of dung." It kind of ruined the moment. The radio segment was in regards to a researcher who was studying beetles and dung. We both laughed.

I am glad that he's back home for a bit.