One of the primary differences between men and women is that while you men all want to fuck us, we women all want to control your thoughts. You’re thinking "Fuck me, fuck me!" and we’re thinking "Lust after me, only me!" I don’t know how transparent either of us are about any of it. This story happened in The Company parking lot before work, very much as I have written it. Next time you look through one of us office girls, completely disregarding us, you might keep this in mind.
She dressed in the morning in a short, casual jumper. She’d made it from a fine wale corduroy in deep, autumn tones. She wore a green turtleneck underneath, but no panties. She put the black panties into her pocket.
No one would even suspect such a thing. Not about her.
She’d been awake most of the night. Her mind was floating into the realm of the unknown. Into possibilities of fucking the forbidden. She wanted that guy at work so bad. But he worked on the docks. She worked in the office. There was this interoffice no-no at The Company about being friends with those from "the other side of the tracks" even though they worked at the same place. She was the college graduate, he was the felon. Everyone upstairs would die if they knew she was interested.
It wasn’t even daylight yet. He arrived at his job at 4:30 a.m. She walked from the bus to The Company, crossing city streets, into the industrial end of town. She doubted she was going to be able to go through with what she’d imagined all night long. She’d barely slept a wink, thinking of how badly she wanted to capture his imagination, how she wanted to use those black panties to turn him on so much he would obsess about her all day long.
Sure enough, she found him there in the yard, sorting clutter from recycling bins into manageable piles. Gary, the driver of the forklift paused what he was doing to turn and say hello as she approached. He was always so polite, so sweet to her. He already had a streak of black grease ac... อ่านทั้งเรื่อง
