cross-post from Adult Friend Finder #4

Running late. Grab the phones. Get the mail. Water cooler chat. Taxes. Reports. Excel. Print. Report. Print. Taxes, taxes, taxes.

He had silver eyes.

Check my email? Nonono! Taxes. Checks. Lots of checks. WTF? Yes, more bills. Taxes.

He had silver eyes. A silvery-gray that matched his shirt. His shirt...

More taxes. MORE bills?? Taxes. Re-check the mail. Lunch? Sort. Sort and sort and sort. Taxes.

He had silver eyes. A silvery-gray that matched his shirt. His shirt stretched across a wide chest, wrapping tightly against deliciously muscled arms.

My. Fucking. God. More taxes. And payroll? Payroll already? Later. Taxes, taxes, taxes. Migraine. Pills. More taxes. Shackles release. Car! Leg cramps too?!

He had silver eyes. A silvery-gray that matched his shirt. His shirt stretched across a wide chest, wrapping tightly against deliciously muscled arms. An easy smile, he pulls you in with his calm, his confidence, his quiet chuckle. If only I had -

Home again, home again, jiggity jig. You've got email! He likes me. He really, really likes me!

He had silver eyes. A silvery-gray that matched his shirt. His shirt stretched across a wide chest, wrapping tightly against deliciously muscled arms. An easy smile, he pulls you in with his calm, his confidence, his quiet chuckle. If only I had reached for his hand across the table, sat in his lap, felt his lips.

Soon enough.