“Night,” she said, and turned and left.I gazed at her panty-covered ass, feeling forlorn because it was obvious that, while she wasn’t mad at me, I was also not being favored.Then, the next morning, after Mom left, she came to my room again (I’d slept late because I’d read until four in the morning) and attacked me, tickling and poking and pulling.“You stink. You need a shower,” she said.My riposte of, “If you weren’t invading my personal space you wouldn’t know that!” did not roll off my lips. That’s because she was naked.So she pulled me to the bathroom and she got us into the shower and she hugged me and kissed me and rubbed up against me and fondled my prick and then dug the tip of it between her labia and masturbated herself to what I think might have been a teensy little orgasm. Then she hugged me some more, with her face in my chest, and murmured, “I love this so much, Bobby.”Talk about running hot and cold. Geesh!My joystick, however, ignored all that and was most happy to. Only one co-worker asked me how things had been. “Little awkward but nice. He was very grateful about everything,” I said.~~~~~~~I got an email from him later that day thanking me for lunch and wondering if I was available for dinner. I replied that if I could get free I would — but I seriously didn't think that would happen. The next morning, he said “Hello” to me and went about his day. I did get another email, saying he said he couldn’t stop thinking about me and asking if I could go to his house for dinner that night. ‘I can’t,’ I replied. ‘I’m not asking’ — and he added a smiley face. I had to admit it was cute and I’d like to have him fuck me. But I didn't think it was possible. Then I found out my man was going out to watch the Celtics and I thought about it all day. Should I risk my job and pass up meeting other men I want to see? What should I tell Dr. C? He walked by my office a few times. “Hey, Dr C,” I said when he was passing one time, “do you like the Celtics?” “Not.
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