Nice Work if You Can Get It

So today, at the office, I'm leaning back in my chair reading some e-mailed memo that was so utterly inane I had to print it up and re-read it just to make my eyes believe what I was reading. And as I'm leaning back with said memo in my lap, my boss -- a very hot 49 year old woman -- walks into my office to discuss the same memo. So I tell her I've got it printed out, and she walks over and starts reading it over my shoulder. She then points to the offending portion of the memo, running a long, sleek, perfectly manicured finger underneath it -- very, very slowly -- as if to underline it as she reads it aloud.

And all I can think about as she's pointing and reading is that her hand was inches -- and I'm talking inches -- away from my weenis.

And that's all it takes to get the mind rolling. To start imagining her whispering, "Actually, I came here to talk about this" and grabbing herself a handful. I mean, all the makings of spectacular handjob were there. We had the hot chick's hand. We had the jimmy. We were in an office which is fairly cut off from the society that is my place of business. Again, I must stress, we are talking an inch at best. An inch of air separating my crotch from my bosses' hand.

I like to think that at some point in the proceedings, she herself thought, "Wow, I could practically touch his package from here." But probably not.