Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32
2 hours. This fucking meeting has gone on for two hours. Why did I get myself into this? I can’t say no, that’s my problem. That and my wife is always volunteering me for things. Now I’m the fucking HOA President. Great.
There’s really only one thing makes this bleak job bearable. That one thing is named Tracy. So its less of a thing and more of a who. Tracy is the management company’s representative. She attends all the meetings and corresponds with me regarding any neighborhood business.
She’s in her mid-30s and raven black hair that usually wears up. Usually when we meet its late in the week and late in the evening. She always looks put together, but by this time of night, usually a couple of strands of hair fall out of place and frame the left side of her face. I love when that happens because she usually ends up brushing it back over her ear.
She has a pale complexion which contrasts the dark hair perfectly. Her red lips are always perfect and never out of place. Its obvious she takes her time and does the lipstick the right way. She takes the same care on all her makeup. The rouge on her cheeks is perfectly blended and she always wears dark eyeliner which make her crystal blue eyes pop.
Today she was wearing a pencil skirt and a white blouse with black pinstripes. I also knew she was wearing a black lace bra. I knew because this particular blouse was tight, especially around her ample bosom. Anytime she would twist to talk with other board members, the buttons were pulled tight and allowed a small peek through her shirt. She wasn’t aware of it and nobody else was in the right position to notice. But I noticed.
I’d sit through a hundred meetings if I could sit across from her.
After the meeting adjourned we all stood up and I was able to admire her figure better. Her proportions were nearly perfect. I imagined her in a sports bra and yoga pants with her hair in ponytail as she worked out in the gym. Her skin was glowing as she perspired, fighting to reach her daily workout goal. The image flashed and was gone just as fast.
God she looked good.
As usual after the meeting, I helped her carry her mounds of paperwork to the car, where we made small talk for a while and she would flash that incredible smile at me. Either she was born with good genetics escort bayan or she had a great orthodontist, because her teeth were white and straight. Everything about her was perfect and in place. She was intoxicating.
Eventually I smiled at her and said goodbye, I had to get home to my family. I would always say things like that. I would become Captain Boring as I was told long ago. Whenever you have the urge to flirt more or desired to be with a woman other than your wife, make sure you talk about your kids and your wife and the women would run away. Damn conservatism. Sometimes I hated living in the Bible Belt.
The only other good thing that came out of the meeting was the assurance that both my kids would be in bed when I got home. Don’t get me wrong, I love my kids and my family. I really do; but lately….
I don’t know. It could have been a midlife crisis or it could have been exhaustion. I would have fantasies of what it would be like if I hadn’t gotten married and had kids. What would my life look like? Would I have a killer home theater and wet bar that I could indulge in at my discretion? Would I come up with a different woman every weekend?
I’d actually probably just be alone and watch TV and stay up to late.
I pulled in the garage and closed the garage door from the clicker. I closed my eyes one last time before I got out and imagined Tracy in that black lace smiling at me…savouring the idea. It only lasted a moment before it rushed out of my head. It was getting harder these days to even keep my fantasies and thoughts in order. Life’s exhaustion was hitting me in every area of my life.
I put my bag down by the door and trudged upstairs. The kids were asleep and my wife was already in bed flicking and swiping her tablet with her fingers. She said hi to me without looking up and asked me how the meeting was. I told her it was fine and walked into the bathroom.
To be honest, my wife was still attractive after a dozen years of marriage. She was short and still thin. Childbirth added a few extra pounds and things weren’t as tight as they used to be, but she still turned heads. I know some guys wives who were knockouts, but blew up after kids. That would have killed me.
I brushed my teeth and put on my pajamas and walked out of the tuzla genç escort bathroom. I told my wife I had to finish up some work before I turned in. She looked up for the first time and said OK and blew a kiss to me then went back to her tablet.
I fucking hate that thing. When I was a kid I couldn’t wait for the next piece of tech. I remember the birth of the cell phone and mp3 player. I remember when smartphones revolutionized the world and I was all in! Now, nobody pays attention to the world around them except through that damn phone or tablet. Oh well, I was going to be working at my computer anyway. Hypocrite.
I went to my cabinet in the back of my office and grabbed a glass and my favorite single malt. That stuff was expensive too, my wife never knew I bought it. She would have thrown a fit. If I spend anything she throws a fit. Too bad, I needed this. I work my ass off. Don’t tell me I have to live in poverty, saving for my retirement all the time.
I sat back in my chair and savored the smoky vanilla taste as I let my mind wander. I didn’t really have work to do, but I enjoyed the peace of being alone. I didn’t sneak off to do work often, but after every HOA meeting I did. The work was usually fantasizing about Tracy though.
Like I said earlier, it was harder and harder work to fantasize. I used to be able to create and direct movies in my head at a moment’s notice. I create characters, usually varying female characters depending on my mood or which woman I saw at the store that day. I was able to imagine a reality where I was the center of it all and controlled everything. It was good to play God.
Lately though it was just flashes, snapshots of what happened. Like looking back at pictures from a party and going, oh yea, I remember that. The scotch helped a little. It helped me relax at least. It took a while, but finally I was able to hold an image of Tracy in my head. She looked just like she did when I saw her, except much less clothing.
The black lace was still there with stockings, garters, and heels. She had her hand on her hip and was nibbling on her finger while she looked up at me. She was smiling around her finger. She seemed generally happy to be near me. I watched as her chest heaved, her luscious breasts bounced as she slowly walked tuzla kendi evi olan escort toward me. Her eyes were playful, with just a hint of lust on the edges. She brushed one of the straps off her shoulder and reached behind her to remove her bra for me. She knew what I wanted to see. She moved her hands back to her breasts, holding her bra in place. Slowly letting it slide down. I looked up into her eyes, the lust was there now. I don’t know how to explain it, but I fantasized on her eyes the most. That cool blue iris cut me deep and she was practically fucking me with just her look. I glanced down to her chest where the bra was almost down and felt the rush hit me as I came. Then the image flashed out of existence.
Everytime. I don’t know why but I never last long enough for her to get her bra off. God I was a sorry piece of work. I can’t even get my fantasies right. Now I was even more frustrated and I just finished the one thing that could fix that.
So I opted for the second thing that could and refilled my scotch glass. I sat back in my chair and idly tapped the mouse and my computer whirred to life.
I sat back and checked my usual news and internet sites. Scrolling randomly through the pages, clicking every once in awhile on one labeled NSFW…or not safe for work. Some were good, most were dumb. Tastes had changed since when I was young. Incest was everywhere, I never got that. What happened to just liking a beautiful, strong woman for who she was? Why go make it weird. Kids these days.
Damn, I am getting old.
Before I knew it I was thirty pages deep and my scotch was empty. I held it upside down and tried to get every last drop out before setting it aside. I went to close my browser and go to bed, but my mouse was hovering on a link that looked interesting.
It was titled, “Dream Walking”.
I clicked on it, more out of curiosity than anything, and began reading. It turned out to be interesting, actually. It was like a glorified lucid dreaming, learning to control your dreams and create your reality. Go back into that one arena where you could do anything, control everything. That reality where you could play God.
Which was an interesting thought. More philosophical than scientific. Playing God. Creating a reality that you controlled completely. Which the late night and two scotches had me thinking of if my life was someone else’s dream. God’s dream…whoever that was. Anyway, this seemed to be the answer to my problem, at least for now. It looked like a way to control of my fantasies again.
Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32