Gotta start somewhere, I guess. I plan random updates whith whatever is in my head.

I embarassed myself yesterday.

Let me set the scene. I had been just about to leave work to get ready to go to the airport to fly down to a conference in England with a collegue and my boss. The Ash cloud drifts over from the west coast and closes the airport, so suddenly we're all sitting in limbo, discussing whether there are other feasible ways of travelling.
An admin person joins in, and I make my points and slightly drift away from the three-way discussion.

It's a warm afternoon, and the collegue (who I'll name G) is a guy I've long held a kind of suspicious little crush on. Partially, this is because he's blantantly a nice guy, with a warm, well-spoken slightly bassy voice, who is unattainable via having a stable relationship and not being a cheater. He's not massively tall (though taller than me is not hard), he seems reasonably fit. He's a bit scruffy, but as he's a redhead it's more of a gentle blurring than looking a mess. I have also long held an entirely private opinion that he would be a caring, selfless, adventurous and vigorous lover, despite my unconfirmed hunch he's hung like a mammoth. This hunch is a composite of him being a very scottish redhead, and his air of quiet self-confidence - like he doesn't need to shout about proving himself, because he knows whenever he looks down that he's got nothing to worry about.

I digress.

Anyway, as I mentioned, I'd said what I had to say, and the conversation was circling the same issues of train/bus/car/reschedule, and I kind of drifted off into a little daydream fantasy.

We'd decided to take a cross-country bus (for some reason), and everyone else was sitting in the front half, other than me and G. We decided to kill the hours, we'd amuse ourselves with some uncomplicated, no-strings-attached sex in the back of the bus, the risk adding a bit of excitement.

My dress dissolved somehow, and I was grabbing the handle on the back of the high seat in front of me as he kissed and licked and caressed me, my heels apart, my stocking-covered legs tingling. He rose, entering me - gently at first but then with rising passion, depth, speed, power and control, till he was really slamming me, and I'm biting my lip, writhing, trying not to attract attention.

He said, in that soft bassy voice, "Do you want to come?"
"mMMMmmmm" I said, with emphasis...

"Are you coming, Jo?" he asked again.

Then my vision switched, and I realised he'd actually asked me if I was going to join them all for a coffee to discuss things further, and I'd moaned at him.

Our eyes met, mine a little hazy. I'm pretty sure I blushed, and I'm pretty sure he realised my mistake exactly, but I covered rapidly with some gibberish and followed along, my damp knickers and sexual heat not entirely quenched by the firey embarassment of letting said collegue know, and he knew I knew, and I knew he knew I knew, y'know?

Bugger.

 - Jo