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She leaned over some to drop her stuff into the desk. and when she did the stiff cup of her bra opened away from her chest and I could see down inside. Her breasts were smaller than the bra, and with the cup opening away, I could clearly see the top part of her sweet, pale, brownish-pink areola. My dick had already been swelling and pushing into my pants, but now it sprang to life. I tried to lean forward in an attempt to hide the swell of my erection, hoping she didn't see. When she sat in the seat right next to me, her skirt moved even further up her creamy smooth thighs. I followed her thighs up to see that her skirt was so short it exposed a hint of little black and white panties trimmed in the same green I had seen peeking out the top of her skirt. I quickly turned to face the front of the room, but I saw nothing. The image of her panties was burned into my mind, even if it was only the barest of glimpses. Turned away from her, I could smell her perfume. God, whatever she was. I hold out my cup. "Here's to the future, Rose." "To a new beginning, Charlie." We 'clink' our paper cups together and sip and smile. One shield is down and she looks more open than she ever has. But not to me. To the world. She is back on the market and ready for some adventure. "I want you..." "Rose..." "...but I can't have you. I know that. But I still want this. Our mornings together mean more to me than you can imagine." I do not say the words I would have said. 'Take me. I am yours.' I've never been as weak as I was when I heard my only lover say, 'I want you'. But I know that she would blame herself for destroying what is only held together by loveless conviction, by a sense of duty without enthusiasm. Where the enthusiasm went, I cannot say. My body never did, but my heart strayed long ago. But I don't think Madeleine ever noticed. The spark went out of her eyes before it happened. For her, our spiritless marriage became a habit, like my morning cup, before I met Rose. The.
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