She was probably pretty when she was younger, I assumed she was married and she had pictures of her k**s and grand k**s in her office. I was in my late 20's at the time and I didn't really pay much attention to any of the women there, other than to speak to them about their software. Most of the women there were kind of frumpy and no-one gave off any kind of sexual vibe, which was fine with me, I could do my work and go.All this changed one Friday in February, when I had to go there to do an upgrade to all the computers in the office. My dispatcher had me making two calls near our office and my last call of the day was to the office in Princeton. I was a little concerned because snow was predicted for that afternoon and with Friday traffic and snow, I was concerned about being able to get home safely. Fortunately, I always kept a bag with a change of clothes and some toiletries in my truck, I figured if worse came to worse, I'd find a cheap hotel and wait out the storm.I got to my. But there’s no denying the magnitude of what he is feeling and in some metaphysical way he knows she feels it too. His heart races uncontrollably, an adrenaline surge like free-falling from a precipice. Suddenly, he’s afraid of the hard surface that will eventually impede his momentum. This feeling morphs into something compelling. A tributary of emotion feeding into the racing pulse of this amorous crave. And, he wants to warn her. He needs her to know that time—however long or short it may be in this fantasy—will invariably turn them into something ugly. Something that will threaten to tear them apart, shatter this perfect world. “Tell me what you are thinking, love.”“What happens to us? Where do we go from here?” “You are ever the romantic, Hondo. You know, it’s that heart of yours that drew me to you.” She leans forward and nibbles his earlobe. “You do remember our first date, don’t you?”“I remember something. Nerves. I couldn’t feel my fingers as I drove up to get you.”“My.
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