Meeting my friend’s boss

Walking to the office I think to my wrinkles. Each and every one talking about my story, about me. At 52, I can say I don’t have many wrinkles, but some. Especially around my mouth. I hate those because I can’t apply lipstick anymore. I’ve always loved a bright red lipstick. And I think about my body. I’ve never loved my body and I’ve never taken care of it. Nobody ever taught me to love my body.I’m learning now how important my body is. I can’t say it’s too late but for sure it’s harder. I’m lucky because even if I’m overweight, way over, I still have all my shapes. Not like some of the women I see around. But still, my butt is big, and not attractive. Or so I thought.And my belly. I hate it. No matter how often I hit the gym, that belly, that hosted my four children, is always too big.During my walk I look around. I love to watch people and imagine their stories. I see couples holding hands and dream. If only!I was waiting at the light to cross the street holding two coffee mugs. Over there I see the corner where I turn and I know Bill, the guard, will be there welcoming all the employees with his bright smile. I always buy a coffee for him. It makes me happy.Lots of people are around me waiting for the green light, and I hear somebody behind me making a sound like a purr.What’s that? I look around and find Ian behind me sneering. Ian is Abby’s boss. Abby is the best of the friends. Her office is right in front of my store and we usually have lunch together.Few weeks ago, during one of bahis siteleri our lunch talking about girls’ matters (sex mostly), Ian approached, and Abby introduced us. He’s a hunk even at his age. He’s 54 (I’ve asked Abby, that’s how I know). I occasionally see him arriving or leaving the office when I pay attention to the outside. My store is in Michigan Avenue and with its large window I can see all the people walking back and forth. Chicagoans and tourists. “Good morning Mr. Donahue! How are you doing? It’s warming up. Do you like it? I love the warm weather!”He doesn’t know why I love the warm spring: it’s because I can take off all the layers of clothes Chicago’s winter force me to wear.“Good morning Mrs. Lacey. Oh, I like it just right! The view is amazing. Is this coffee for me?” he asks pointing at my two mugs.“I’m sorry sir, I don’t know your favorite. One is for me and the other is for Bill, the guard of the building beside my store.”In the meantime, the light turns green and we start walking together.“Do you mind call me Ian? I don’t like the formalities.”“Sure, and I’m Lily.”“Are you going to lunch with Abby today?”“Nope: she has a doctor appointment, so I’ll stay in the BOH and have lunch with the bakers.”“Have you ever had lunch at Eataly on Ohio Street?”“No. It’s way too expansive.”“At what time you have your break?”“Noon.”“I’ll be there at 12:05. See you then. I can’t wait!”And so he leaves, waving with a hand and that grin on his face. Without asking if I wanted to have canlı bahis siteleri lunch with him or not. I stay there, looking at his amazing ass and thinking. I’m speechless. And believe me it’s not easy!My morning went smoothly, always checking the building in front of my window. A new sensation on my stomach and wetness on my panties. I’ve got a text from Abby saying she’s sorry to leave me alone. I’m not telling her of the change of plans. I prefer to wait and see how it goes.11:58 and I’m ready. The door in the front building is opening. It’s not him. 11:59. Nothing. 12:04. Here he comes! I pretend to not be looking. I don’t want him to think I’m impatient.“Twelve-O-Five. Ready?”Oh yes! “Sure. Let me clock out”We are walking side by side. And then he turns left.“This is Grand, not Ohio.”“Do you trust me?”It’s myself I don’t trust, I want to say. “Yes, Sir.”He looks at me with a mischievous grin. I’m lost in lust. My panties are dripping wet.Suddenly he stops, takes a key-chain from his pocket and open a big wooden door.I don’t know what to do.I want to go in with him. I really do. I want to be taken. I want him to touch my pussy and make me cum with his fingers.But there is the other part of me, the conscious one, that stops me.“What is this place? Where are we going?”He now faces me. And I can smell his aftershave. So musky, so arousing.“You said you trust me. We won’t do anything you don’t want. C’mon! We don’t have the whole afternoon, do we?”“My break on Friday is two canlı bahis hours,”The brat side of myself won!We enter an apartment very bright and small. He locks the door behind me.“Whose this place is?”“Mine.  When I work late I don’t want to ride the train. It’s not safe,”I kick off my shoes by the door and leave my purse on a coffee table. I follow him to the kitchen. There is a table with four chairs, a huge counter and all the appliances a woman can dream about. Or at least I would! Looking around I can see two doors, probably a bedroom and the bathroom. Nothing else. And probably the kitchen is the biggest room!“Is your wife aware of this place?”“Kind of. She knows I have a place where I stay when I work late, but she’s never been here.”I’d love to have a place where I could hide every once in a while. A secret place only for me, and my secret world.While he’s looking for something to eat, I sit on the counter. Not too relaxed because my shirt can’t hide those little sausages around my waistline that I hate so much when I sit.He then turns toward me, looking at me from head to toe and back. Very slowly, studying each feature. Each imperfection.“Something wrong?” I ask to break the tension I feel inside.“Au contraire! Everything is right where it should be. Don’t be ashamed of your body or afraid of it. It’s not your enemy” he then come closer. His stomach touching my knees. His hands on my calves, caressing them, at first lightly then adding some pressure. With his body he forces me to open my legs to come closer. Not that he must force much. My hands on my thighs. I’m embarrassed. I don’t want to misunderstand and don’t know what to do with my hands. His eyes on mine, then on my mouth, then on my breasts.