Archive-name: Working/current.txt Archive-author: Archive-title: Current I stared at the computer screen in front of me, suddenly realizing I'd read the same paragraph a dozen times and still didn't know what it said. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I couldn't concentrate, and my body felt alien to me. I could feel every thread in my underwear. I could feel my hair brushing against the back of my neck. I could feel my hard nipples being caressed by my thin cotton shirt. I could hear the blood whispering through my veins. All the tiny hairs on my body were standing on end, as though I were under a high tension wire, or holding onto a Van de Graaff generator. Electricity filled me, making my head spin and my genitals flood with heat. Hot moisture oozed from my body, dampening my underwear. My anus tensed and untensed over and over, aching for something, or someone. I wandered down the hall, smiling and exchanging greetings with co-workers, wondering how the thin social veneer could still function when my body and mind were so out of synch with the rest of the world. I walked into the coffee room and he was standing there. I stopped for a moment, knowing how starved I was for him, but unsure if he felt the same. I've never dated anyone I work with, and don't want to risk doing or saying anything to spoil my career advancement. But every time I saw him, it did something to me. He was tall and well made, with blond hair, blue eyes, and that Nordic complexion which flushes so easily. He was handsome, so incredibly handsome. An Adonis. I'd been fantasizing about him for months. I walked over beside him, head lowered, eyes peeking over at the hardening bulge in his slacks. It was as perfect as he was. Long and thick. I wanted to taste it so bad saliva squirted into my mouth. I could smell him. No cologne or aftershave, just the clean musk of his body. "Hello," he said softly. I swallowed hard, afraid my voice would come out hoarse. Instead it came out husky, sexy, as I replied to his greeting. I could feel the current which surrounded me reaching out to include him. Waves of heat streamed from his body, crashing against me, and my lungs labored to breath under the onslaught. My hand shook as I filled my cup and added cream. Glancing up, I saw him looking at me. I dropped my eyes swiftly, feeling the heat rise in my face and chest, knowing I was blushing, and helpless to do anything about it. He said something to me, and the current was so loud in my ears I didn't hear. "What?" I almost whispered. "I said, are you free for lunch today?" he repeated. Wild joy flooded me. "Yes," I said, shivering. "Would you have lunch with me? At Jordan's? One o'clock?" I nodded, swallowing. He moved away, and very lightly brushed against my bare arm as he did so. The tiny hairs there stood on end, and he smiled as he walked away. I leaned against the counter, shivering with anticipation. When I was reasonably under control again, I walked back to my office and sat down before the computer screen. I read the same paragraph again, and still didn't know what it said. --