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Apple started it, of course. First there was the iMac, then the world went crazy for the iPod and before you knew it loads of companies out there were prefixing their products with the ubiquitous “i”. It seemed only natural that I added to the movement when I christened what happened with Nancy, iSex.
Nancy Perry was an admin assistant at the company I worked for. She was in many ways unremarkable, but for some reason her face struck a chord with me and I always looked at her with eyes of desire. She had smooth skin that held her features with an endearing appearance of puppy fat. In some ways her face didn’t fit with her body, as she was lithe with decidedly feminine lines. Nancy wore her hair, always immaculately brushed, in long styles, usually curled and tumbling around the sides of her face. Her teeth were readily visible in her natural smile and had just the tiniest hint of an overbite. Her eyes were a rich brown color, never gave away much of what she was thinking but shone wonderfully when she laughed.
We knew each other pretty well, in a casual, workmate kind of way. I liked her as she was easy to deal with and over the months her looks had grown on me, even though I’d never have done anything about it as work and romance were things I didn’t mix. I was installing some new software for her and she mentioned that’d recently bought an iPod and couldn’t get her songs onto it.
I was used to getting questions about personal technology issues at work. We weren’t supposed to spend any time on them, but we often helped our customers with their problems, in the interest of building relationships, and keeping the peace.
Technology has come a long way, and most of this connectivity stuff is real easy, even for people like Nancy, but occasionally something gets in the way and those issues can be a bear to fix. I checked out her iPod, connected it to my laptop to verify that it worked, and did a few other basic checks. Other than the device having no songs on it… it looked fine.
“Check all of your connections at home.” I advised her, returning the iPod. “It should work if it’s connected properly.”
Nancy gave me a helpless look and I capitulated. “You can bring your PC in and I’ll take a look if you want.”
She smiled at the offer but didn’t seem confident. “I’m not sure I want to take it all apart. I’m not sure if I could connect it all again.”
Used to dealing with people who needed a little more handholding than normal, I brushed her objections aside and assured her that she could. In the end we settled on her taking it home and letting me know how she got on.
The next day she walked around to my desk with a sheet of notes she’d made that documented her failed attempt. I read them through and suggested a couple of things she might try over the weekend. I also gave her my phone number, so she could call me if she still had no luck. Monday rolled around and I got another visit from Nancy, now frustrated at her lack of progress and offering to sell me a new iPod cheaply.
I calmed her down and asked where she lived. I really didn’t want to start making house calls but I liked Nancy and if she didn’t live too far away it wouldn’t be so bad. Her apartment was twenty minutes from the office and I told her I’d come around that evening and fix her problem for sure.
Nancy’s apartment was in a new development and was furnished sparsely. Everything was neat and clean though and I guessed this was her first home of her own. She showed me in and self-consciously excused a mess that I couldn’t see. Her PC was only a year or so old and was on a table in the dining area. She pulled up a seat for me and went off to make coffee.
It took me almost a minute to get the connection working. I didn’t tell her for five minutes, hoping she wouldn’t feel so bad about her own failure if she thought it took me longer. I then spent a few minutes showing her how her music files were transferred and how to make sure the connection worked every time. I noted that she didn’t have much music on her PC and she sat attentively, taking notes and watching as I moved the mouse across the screen.
“You like the Counting Crows?” I asked. “Hard Candy” was one of the few CDs she had in her collection.
“I love them.” she enthused. “I saw them last year when they were on tour.”
“I have all of their stuff on my iPod. If you want, I can copy everything for you?” Yes, I knew that was illegal, but so was speeding, and murder. I figured copying music fell somewhere in the middle and didn’t mind sharing with Nancy.
“Please.” Her face lit up and I was sold, illegal copying or not.
I connected my iPod to her PC and was about to download my Counting Crows collection when I reconsidered. It would be just as easy and not take much longer to copy all of my music for her.
“There’s a bunch of stuff there you won’t want… some audio books, some movies, a couple of TV shows and a few really crappy CDs, but you can delete what you don’t want to keep.”
Nancy was delighted with her new cache of music and brought more coffee while the files Şanlıurfa Escort transferred. When it was done I unhooked, showed her how to transfer them to her iPod and left her looking forward to wading through many days worth of material.
I was lying in bed that night when I realized what I’d done.
I wracked my brain all night and all the way to the office the next day, trying to figure out how I could erase the files from Nancy’s PC and iPod before she found them. I didn’t have an answer by mid-morning, when she called me.
“Mike…” she began uncertainly, “there were some files that you transferred for me…” My heart sank—a long, deep freefall that had no ending in sight. “I’m not sure you meant me to have them.”
The silence as I fumbled for an answer was long, but she didn’t offer to fill it. “I forgot about those.” The least I could do was be honest. “I really shouldn’t have left them there. I can’t tell you how sorry I am.”
Lots of horrible thoughts ran around my head, the worst of which was that she might be able to have me fired. When I thought about that later it seemed hardly likely, but at the time I had no good outcome present itself to me.
“It’s okay.” Nancy sounded less than certain. “I’ll talk to you about it later, okay?”
I acknowledged her comment and hung up, thinking it was far from “okay”. It was slightly mystifying that she said we’d talk about it later and I had a fleeting vision of being blackmailed. I shook that from my head—surely Nancy wouldn’t be like that?
Later turned out to be late that afternoon, when we were both at the soda vending machine.
“Look, I’m really sorry about that.” I fought through my pounding heart to try and make it better. “I’ll come around tonight and delete all the files for you. I really am sorry.”
Nancy was calmer and took a drink from her Diet Sprite while I stuttered through my apology. “Tell me… what were they? I was… intrigued. They are very explicit.”
I couldn’t tell from her tone whether “intrigued” was good or bad, but it did have a better outlook than most of the scenarios I’d imagined. “It’s a hobby of mine… writing.”
“You wrote those?” Her eyebrows rose.
“Yes, I write erotic short stories.” I felt my face redden but stood up and tried to appear unconcerned.
“That was your voice, narrating them?”
“Yes.” I swallowed, wishing that this would all go away. “I was thinking of posting the audio versions on my website, but I decided not to. They were on my iPod because I keep all of my audio files there. I completely forgot about them.”
“It’s okay.” A smirk took over Nancy’s face now and she started to walk off. She didn’t look back as she said, “I thought they were hot.”
I stopped thinking about retrieving the files after that exchange, but never quite forgot that Nancy had learned my secret. She didn’t mention it for several days and I stopped worrying about there being negative repercussions. I though I caught Nancy looking at me strangely one afternoon but couldn’t be sure and started to let the whole thing fade.
Two Friday’s later Nancy slipped into the seat next to me in the cafeteria, placed her tray on the table and started to eat her lunch. “I love your stories.”
“Thank you.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. “I enjoy writing them.”
“Do you mind me talking about them?” She didn’t look at me and forked a mouthful of salad.
“No. I don’t talk about them much, but for the most part I’m proud of them.” I placed my cutlery on the plate I’d emptied. “There are a lot more. I only recorded three I think, the rest are posted on my website.”
She looked at me now, an exited glint in her eye. “Really? Maybe I should read those before we talk.”
“Your choice. I don’t mind.” I gave her the website address and she scribbled it on her napkin.
“I have to ask one thing though…”
I smiled, fairly sure I knew what the question would be. I was right.
“Are they true… or did you make them up?”
“They are all made up.” I confessed. “But there are elements of truth in every one, that’s just how I write.”
I couldn’t tell whether that was a disappointment for her or not.
I’d expected that Nancy would get back to me the following week, having read all of the stories over the weekend, but I was wrong. She kept me waiting until the following Tuesday to bring the subject up again.
“I’ve read them all now.” Nancy walked up to my desk.
I hastily looked around, but she’d picked her time well and there was no one around. “I hope you… liked them.”
I did.” She sat down on an empty chair next to me. “You write really well, I’ve been very impressed. Tell me, the one about your neighbor… was that true?”
I laughed. I knew exactly which story she meant. “Is that your favorite story?”
“Don’t avoid the question.” She scowled playfully. “Was that true?”
I took a deep breath and considered my answer. It was the kind of question I’d ask though, so I felt it deserved an honest Şanlıurfa Escort Bayan answer. “It’s based someone I know, but not my neighbor. I changed her name, and most of the story is fantasy. I never went out with the person the character is based on. The idea came to me when I was sitting at my desk, watching someone do yard work.”
Nancy’s eyes held mine and she nodded, taking in my words. “What about the one about the couple who had the dare, at work?”
“That’s based on someone I used to work with, but the story’s compete fiction.”
“I hope you don’t mind me asking these questions.” Nancy’s face softened now, like she didn’t want to alienate me by getting to personal. “I really liked them. All of them.”
She got up to leave. I was getting used to her staccato conversation on my stories, and also more confident that this wouldn’t turn into some sexual harassment issue. Nancy took a step and then turned back. “There’s one thing I’d like to ask though… a favor, for me.” She waited to see my expression change but my only reaction was my eyes widening. “I liked listening to you tell the stories, on the iPod. Would you consider coming around to record a few more of them for me?”
There were so many things that felt so wrong about this, not the least of which was how much I’d hated doing the first recordings, but looking at Nancy and wondering where this was going… I agreed.
We’d set a date for Friday evening and didn’t mention it again. I had dinner alone at home and left for her apartment shortly before eight. It was hard not to fantasize about the evening but it was also with some hesitation that I knocked her door. It had been so hard to read how she’d handled finding out about the stories.
Tonight she had the coffee made when I got there. We sat in her lounge for a few minutes and chatted idly before she stood up and suggested we move to the computer table. She asked, “You sure you don’t mind doing this?”
I explained that while it wasn’t exactly fun for me, I was happy to do it for her. Nancy smiled and asked if she’d set up the microphone correctly.
She’d picked out five stories that she wanted me to read. I glanced at the titles and noted that four out of the five were favorites of mine. She said not to worry about doing all of the stories, but those were the ones she’d particularly like. I indicated that we should just get on and see how we went.
The first story I recorded was a mess. I had to stop a few times because I made mistakes and when we got to the explicit content I stumbled over the words several times. I tried to forget Nancy was there and by the time I’d got through the second story I’d managed to take myself out of the situation and concentrate on simply reading aloud. After two more cups of coffee I’d managed to get through all five stories and set about loading them onto Nancy’s iPod.
“Thank you so much.” She rested her hand on my shoulder while I transferred the files. “That was so kind of you to give up your time to do that. I’ll enjoy them all the more knowing you did them just for me.”
I dismissed her thanks and said it had been fun, which was almost true by then.
“Is the male character in all of your stories you?” Again she asked with those intense eyes of hers looking straight at me.
“No.” I consciously didn’t break eye contact, lest she thought my answer wasn’t true. “There are a lot of things in the male characters that are my thoughts, interest and likes, but each character is meant to be different, and, I hope, fit the story better than a straight copy of me would.”
“What about the actions that character makes?”
I sighed, hoping she’d take the hint that the questions were getting personal. I also felt the air in the room start to spark, or was it just the twitch in my pants that made it so? “I write what I know about, or know enough about to make the story realistic.”
“Your female characters are often strong and sometimes take the initiative. Is that what you like?”
“Yes.” I thought about her comment. It was something other readers had mentioned before. “I think that those situations are incredibly hot when the woman isn’t passive.”
“One more question?” she asked with a puppy-dog look.
“Sure.” I felt relieved, feeling that the end was in sight, not that I hated being with Nancy, it was just so hard to read what was going on in her head.
“Tell me…” she paced around my chair, “you’re right… some of your stories are very… spontaneous. Do you think it’s realistic that two people, two strangers effectively, can be so horny that they just have sex, because the situation just takes over them?”
I simply said, “Yes.”
Nancy nodded. “Has it ever happened like that to you?”
I thought for a few seconds, but conceded that it hadn’t.
“Good.” she said firmly.
“Yes, good.” She stood in front of me now, looking down as I squirmed at the change in atmosphere between us. “Because I’d hate to think this was a cliché for you.”
Nancy’s eyes were Escort Şanlıurfa uncertain and alive as she took the step that separated us and sat in my lap. She hesitated a few seconds before leaning forward to kiss me.
Her mouth was hot and active as her tongue immediately pushed through my lips and invited me to kiss her back. I did, wrapping my arms around her and pulling her body close to mine. I felt her warmth through her shirt and through her jeans. The relief of finally knowing what was going on in Nancy’s head freed me to kiss her enthusiastically and run my hands over her back and down her sides.
Nancy’s hands were resting on my shoulders and she brought one down so that the palm rested against the top of my chest. I wanted to mirror the movement but concentrated on the passion of our long, I-want-you kiss. She rubbed gently on the front of my shirt and I felt my nipple respond. My hands ran up her sides again, this time slightly inside so I could feel the curve of her breasts and the lines of her bra. Nancy’s hand came down around my side and pulled me tighter to her.
When we broke the kiss there was a split-second when we wondered what to do but as soon as I reached for the front of her shirt she stood up and gave a tiny shaking movement with her head. Without a word she reached down, offered her hand to me and quietly said, “Not here.”
She led me silently to her bedroom and switched on a bedside lamp. The room was decorated in soft purple tones and was more cluttered than the rest of her apartment, but the bed was pristine. She sat us down on the comforter, continued to hold my hand and looked at me. When she spoke her voice was soft, nervous but sincere. “I’ve had three lovers in my life, no one-night-stands and taking a man to bed for the first time is a big deal for me. I know we don’t know each other real well, but I want you more than I’ve ever wanted someone and I’m not about to give up this night without finding out…”
I kissed her gently and whispered, “It’s okay. It’ll be just fine.”
I nuzzled her neck and kissed it. She responded by running a hand up my thigh, stopping an inch from the bulge that felt restrained and in urgent need of attention. I took hold of the bottom of her shirt and eased it upwards. Nancy held her arms up and helped me take it off. In the soft light of the room I took in the vision of her pale skin and lacy white bra that was being challenged by her breasts. “You look beautiful.” I said instinctively as I ran my hand up her belly and lightly over the mounds beneath the material of her bra.
Reaching around to unclip the bra I kissed her lightly on the other side of her neck. Nancy sighed and I felt another piece of tension leave her. More than anything I wanted her to enjoy the experience, despite how we’d got there and how she’d confided in me. When the bra fell away in front of her I leaned back to look at her breasts.
They were nicely shaped and her nipples were smaller and darker than I expected. I brought both hands up and gently took the weight of them. I looked into her eyes and smiled as she blinked back the pleasure my fingers were delivering as they traveled up to trace circles around her nipples. Nancy cooed and I gently pinched the nipples in my fingers, encouraging them to erect.
As soon as I started to touch her thighs she stood up, knowing I was intent on removing her jeans. I pulled the button and zipper open and eased them down a few inches. Nancy wriggled silently to help me and as soon as they were half-way down her thighs they dropped away to reveal a startlingly white pair of panties with a lace front. Beyond the lace looked dark and inviting and I ran my finger along them while she stepped out of the jeans.
There was no way I was going to miss the moment of revelation so when I pulled her panties down my eyes focused on her pubic area and watched as her pussy was slowly revealed. She might have looked dark behind the lace, but there was no hair contributing to that appearance. Nancy was shaved clean and all that showed was a softly curved slit that disappeared between her legs. I ran a hand up the inside of her thigh and as I neared her pussy she shuffled her legs open a little. My fingertips traced the lines of her pussy lips with the lightest touch. I heard her gasp as I pushed harder and when she opened to my touch her wetness burst onto my skin.
My hand stayed in place, clamped over her pussy, while I stood and kissed her again. “You feel wonderful.” I whispered, loving the eroticism of the discovery.
“My turn.” Nancy said softly, taking hold of my shirt but careful to let my hand stay in place as long as possible. She lifted the shirt off and ran her fingers over my chest. Her touch was firm and my skin was tingling with anticipation. By the time her fingers were exploring the skin across the top of my jeans I took an involuntary breath and felt my erection pulse and strain against my clothes.
She didn’t leave me waiting long, pulling off my belt, unsnapping and unzipping the jeans. She opened the zipper wide and pulled the jeans down, leaving my cock pushing my pants into a tent. Nancy stooped to place her hand around the bulge and press firmly. Her fingers wound around my shaft and her mouth came up to find mine. Her tongue played with mine as she dipped her hand inside my pants and took hold of me, skin to skin for the first time.
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