Post 143: Interlude

Melissa Monroe needed to close the door to her office. He had just left, Sheryl had texted her.

Ohhh….oh my gosh haha…!

This is...this is so exciting…

Her heart beat quickly,  and she knew she had to control her emotions. She didn’t want to let herself get too worked up, or expect too much too quickly. Not only would he be...eventually...uncommitted, but... ‘Things will start to change at the office’  Sheryl had said…what could she…??

It made her squirm, in her seat, imagining the possibilities. She needed to resist slipping her hand between her thighs, groaning out loud, picturing what life could be like...here...with him...holding her skirts, watching her as she...

Oh god, she marveled, all but overcome with the thought, the potential, of what could happen. She looked around her office, her beautiful new office...larger than his. She looked around and imagined it...bigger. She thought of the other girls, her girls, her team. She pictured...more of them, a hive, growing. She imagined it, this place, her place...expanding, becoming larger. Not just a little medical practice on the outskirts of a small city, but something...new. Something huge, something part of a bigger collective, vital in this new world on the horizon. And at the top, at its helm, administering, directing, overseeing, the queen bee, the alpha…responsible for all this...

ooooo….nnnnghhh…!!

omg haha! She threw her head back, tossing a mane of dark, thick hair, and laughed out loud.

Settling herself, she placed both hands flat on her big, glorious desk.

Life was getting good for Melissa Monroe. Very, very, very good. And maybe, just maybe, she could share it with-

Ohhh...no….shhhh...don’t. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Missy…

But she couldn’t help it. She couldn’t help but picture it, what the days could be like. Waking up with him, caring for him, being there for him. Bedding him every night.

Bedding him every night as, every day, the world around them changed. And as the world changed she would be there to protect him, make it easy for him, show him-

s-stop it...she panted...

She couldn’t, though, keep herself from imagining...other things. Secret things. Coming home, through the door of their beautiful new house, to him...omigod...kneeling.

Her heart beat faster, her thighs flushed. Her nails dug into the top of her desk; she watched herself scratch its wood, deeply. She pictured a weak, little arm - his - next to her strong one, his little hand held by her own. Where was this all coming from? These...visions? Was she always this way, she wondered? And if so, what was bringing it to the surface? Because that’s what it felt like, something huge rising from her depths, surfacing into the world. She laughed again, more quietly, to herself. You’re still just skinny little Missy, she told herself, raised by her mom on the wrong side of the tracks. You’re a good girl.

Yet there were other things she saw, too, moments she’d dreamed of in only her most private times...darker things. In the shadows of her mind she’d seen them. Her hand, crushing. Her womanly thighs, smothering. Or, more tenderly, him in her arms, needy, hungry, so small...and she was there for him, in this vision, ready and so, so full...

She couldn’t take it any longer. Her door was locked, she knew. She pulled up her favorite photo of him on her phone, laid it on the desk. She needed this.

“I’m going to get you to sign those papers,” she vowed, smiling down at his picture as she unsnapped her skirt, “then you’ll see…”