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Itwas all I could do tokeep my eyes off thatsexy booty of hers. Wewalked into the office andthen over to the deskwhere her desktopcomputer was. She toldme it was doing strangethings, like no letting hergo into certain websitesand also getting a lot ofpop-up websites. I askedher if she had virusprotection and was itproperly set. She told meshe did not know. Thenshe said, “Just fix it forme, please.” She told meshe had been workingreorganizing her closetand now was going to puther clothes away as shewalked out. I sat down inthe chair and found theproblem right off, thevirus software had beenturned off and thecomputer had a virus, so Iran the virus cleanprogram. While theprogram was running, Idecided to snoop hercomputer. I went to herdocuments file and thento pictures file. There wasa file named “Jenny.” Iclicked on it and fuck Ialmost fell out of mychair. There were hot picsof Jenny in her pantiesand bra, bikini and invarious stages ofnakedness. All I could dowas look at that. Yet they had a strength about them, an enticing dexterity that made me wish he was tapping them in a far more intimate place—a place that was growing warmer and wetter with each flex of his graceful knuckles. Perhaps he had a hobby or a vocation that required strong fingers. Maybe he was a pianist or a masseuse. I sighed in relief when I found no ring on his left hand, although I was baffled as to how anyone attached to those exquisite hands could possibly be single. As he held out his credit card to the cashier, he glanced over his shoulder at me. That was the first time I looked away from his hands and took in the rest of him. Unremarkable, really, in comparison to his hands. Neither tall nor short, thin nor fat. Roughly my age. Apparently in good health. Inviting mouth, with a welcoming smile and the white teeth of someone who eschewed coffee, tea, and tobacco. Not unattractive, but not stunning either. He smelled of a woodsy soap, rugged and pleasant. And he carried himself with.
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