She lowered her beautiful, smoldering blue-grey eyes and with a mocking, dejected tone in her voice said, "Oh, shit.She lowered her beautiful, smoldering blue-grey eyes and with a mocking, dejected tone in her voice said, "Oh, shit. Does this mean I have to pay for my own lunch from now on?" I couldn't believe it. I stared at her, wide-eyed and open- mouthed and just broke up. I was laughing so hard, the entire restaurant turned to look at us. Embarrassed and unable to thwart her own laughter, Andrea got up and tried to get me to drink some water, dribbling it down my chin to my pants. That made her laugh even harder and I cracked up again. Through my choking, uncontrollable laughter, I finally managed to reply, "and does this mean I'm never going to get into your pants?" And still laughing like a couple of crazies, we walked arm and arm down Michigan Avenue back to the office. From that day on, our relationship changed dramatically and, I hasten to add, for the better. I went back to seriously pursuing and bedding other women (as did Andrea, I'm sure), but we still took our lunches together nearly every day, occasionally adding after work drinks to our repertoire. I was notably more relaxed around her, now that I stopped trying to impress and seduce her and our friendship deepened and blossomed. Our conversations became more personal and downright gossipy and I began to feel more like her hairdresser than her employer. When we occasionally went to the popular watering joints after work, I could literally feel the envious stares of every guy in the place as I escorted this breathtaking creature through the crowd to a quiet table in the back and hoarded her to myself all night. Little did they know that more often than not, we were discussing and evaluating the women in the bar like a couple of locker room buddies. Andrea would pick out a woman and say 3k 3 something like, "I'll bet that brunette's a real scratcher and screamer" or "look at that chick's face, she looks like she hasn't cum in five years" or "check out the tits on that redhead, don't they look delicious. |