Jennifer was a dangler. She had one leg crossed over other and one high-heel dangled from her foot as she swung her foot back and forth. Her pantyhose...had reinforced sandal-toes; her soles and toes encased in darker but still sheer nylon. She absentmindedly reached down and scratched the sole of her foot; her bright-red fingernails whispered along the nylon, the hissing sound was nearly lost in the background din of the office.Nearly lost that was. In the adjoining cubicle forty-five year old. Every inch of skin I own is awake and sensitive to this wave of cool air upon it. You are not one to rush anything. (after all, we have waiting twenty years for this, no?) You run your hands down my goose-flesh covered arms, then up, across the tops of my still-contained breasts, across my neck and under my hair, chills still filling every nerve in my body. Kissing me and caressing my back, you deftly unhook my bra, causing me to feel a rush of air come up from beneath the underwire cups. I. More

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