Morals by Percivall Edgewater

Morals A Workplace Fantasy By Percivall T. Edgewater, II She lay there, thinking, but trying not to think. Trying not to anticipate too much; not to seem too eager. Still just a bit uncertain that it was even the right thing to be doing, the sex part, not to mention what look would be on his face when he came out and saw her body. She was naked, completely, just like he told her to be. Per his instructions, she was on her back, head on one pillow, left leg straight, right thigh over left, her hands pressed flat onto the mattress. She imagined he had requested so that because it required her to totally surrender any modesty; a subservient attitude that she was unaccustomed to. He opened the bathroom door and she looked at him over the foot of the bed. When they’d first met, at a networking group, she’d made the first move. He had sat at a table, alone. She had walked over to him to invite him to join her, likewise sitting alone. He told her that he’d just come from another networking group and was actually thinking about just sitting and listening to the presentation; giving his voice a rest. So she did the talking. She told him about her business ventures and her aspirations; how she’d gotten involved in several projects at the same time and was feeling overwhelmed. Music to his ears! He once told her that, given the choice between fame and fortune, he’d take the fortune. He was a professional number two man. He liked to work behind the scenes advancing the cause of his employer while they stood in the limelight. The shades were drawn, but being late afternoon, the room was far from dark. They could see each other clearly, and this bothered her a little. She was over 50 and took care of herself, but like most women, she was insecure about her body, hence the drawn‐shade compromise. He’d have left them open. She wasn’t 25 anymore and she was comfortable with that. He was a couple of years older than her, but looked younger. It was obvious that he worked out. He wasn’t exactly muscular, but fit. After her ex‐husband, the alcoholic, just the absence of a gut was a vast improvement. He stood at the foot of the bed, totally naked as well, his penis just starting to become aroused as he took her in. Obviously he had no modesty problem. Men! Was this his way to break the ice? He touched her foot and his warm hand sent a shock wave up her leg. Her body was responding faster than her mind. She wanted to appear receptive to him, but not as anxious for him as she felt. She was ready for him already, but she knew things would still move slowly. She knew that’s how he liked it so she wanted it that way, too. He crawled onto the bed on his left hand and knees, his right hand sliding up her left leg. He stopped at her knees, sitting on his feet. She couldn’t take her eyes off of his now fully‐formed erection; he seemed not to even notice it. He was, very obviously, concentrating totally on her. He gently lifted her right knee and spread her legs. She was on fire! She lay there breathing heavily; anticipating. He was dragging it out, and she was loving it! He moved himself up to her hips, running his had up her thigh. His triceps and abs showed great definition when he lifted himself to move. She watched his abs contract as he lifted himself along the bed. Her hands were gripping the sheet; he’d told her not to touch him until instructed. She looked up into his eyes and he was looking at hers. While