She had an adorable innie belly button that adorned her narrow waistline. Freckles, as far as I could see, and a perfectly landscaped triangle of blond hair above her clit that would make the Jardins du Château de Versailles envious. And my hands paved a path along her hips and back towards her blue lace thong. My mouth followed suit; “Take your blouse off… slowly,” I whispered in her ear. Faintly smiling, she agreed. Breasts like hills with peaks tinted pink, I skimmed over her nipples with my tongue. The presence of pleasure occupied her eyes heavily when I spun her around to face the couch. While reaching for her crotch with my hand, she clutched my wrist to steer me through her crotchless undies. “Bend over,” I ordered her in a tone that stimulated the waterworks in between her legs. My fingers were laced with juice, and Jess was bracing to receive everything I was about to give her. When it comes to pussy, I prefer them fat. And she had yet to disappoint me.
I have never wanted to get off work so bad in my life! There was an hour left on the clock, and I was counting it down. Primarily because I hadn't heard from Jess since last night, I think if she would've texted me this morning or, time could have gone by much faster. To avoid going stir crazy, I asked around the office to see if anyone needed any help. The only person who seemed like they needed a second hand was our mailroom clerk Carl; he's worked at Elle magazine for over ten years now, and he's the best. If it weren't for him, I probably wouldn't have gotten the job. I met him four or five months after moving to NYC while working for the USPS. He liked my attention to detail and how I presented myself. My uniform was clean, and my trousers always had a fresh travelers crease pressed in. "You should model; you're too pretty to be delivering mail," he said. "And too thick," I replied. He laughed and told me they were hiring for a few positions. I didn't take it seriously at the time as I didn't feel I would fit the mold, but soon after doing a google search, I quickly remembered my 5 years as a freelance writer. I applied to be a beauty editor, listed his name as a reference, and the rest is history.
Today I woke up in a frenzy; the weekend is almost over, my neighbors still haven't moved in, and last night I watched the sun come up with a couple of my coworkers. Odd right? Coworkers, hanging out with each other without being corralled by the big boys at work. It's just six of us chilling on my newly bought Arhaus couch that I saved for a little over four months to buy. Hence the reason for a celebration.Before I forget, let me introduce Marie (she's the first friend I made when I moved here), Joseph(Marie's boyfriend but we aren't allowed to say due to work). Ashely(my on and off again fuck buddy), Natalie(the best thing about her is her tits, no lie), and William(I used to have a massive crush on him until I found out he was gay). I've known everyone pretty much since I moved here from Texas, which is about eight years. Even though we have our disagreements from time to time, the energy we pass onto one another is refreshing. Speaking of refreshing, starting the morning without OJ is a cardinal sin, and I have none left. All I could hear in my mind were the subjects of King's Landing from Game of Thrones yelling, "Shame, shame !.." as I got dressed to run to the bodega around the corner from my apartment.I asked my coworkers if they wanted anything, and surprisingly they said no after a full night of binge drinking and overdue munchies. I grabbed my keys off the kitchen counter and headed out.
It's Friday, and just like any other Friday, I'm glad it's finally here.For me, that usually means binge-watching a series on Netflix for hours or pretending that I'm James Stewart from Alfred Hitchock's infamous film Rear Window, but today is different. You see, I have new neighbors moving in this weekend, and they aren't your ordinary neighbors. It's a guy..well, an attractive guy with two women accompanying him. Based on their interactions with each other as they were coming in, I got the impression that they weren't kinfolk. Now, since I'm as nosey as they come, I decided to introduce myself as they were coming out. I greeted them as if I were meeting someone's parents for the first time. Eager to make a good impression but not overbearing. I could see it written all over their faces that they weren't expecting New Yorkers to be this welcoming. Luckily for them, I'm not from around here. Being from the south, it's in my blood to know the people I live around and not just to be nice. It's also just in case someone starts actin' a fool so I can get out of dodge. However, in this case, leaving never came across my mind, breathing either, but I just had to know more about them.