She couldn’t help checking him out. Something about him made her stare, stare, stare. There was something more than an instant attraction, something...familiar about him, but what? She noticed how his eyes would search her, then dart away like he was shy. Maybe it was a male thing—checking out the action. That was cool with her, because he was the sexiest thing that had ever stepped foot in there. Her usual customers were men in their seventies and eighties, humped over, and trying their best to. You made me so wet, bending over like that ... so, touch me, there! I want you to touch me there, c’mon, do it right now!’She knows exactly what I mean. With half an eye still on the door, she places her glasses carefully on the desk in front of her, and then – almost casually – lets her right arm drop from the desk to dangle at her side, her fingertips brushing against my ankle. Then her hand traces upwards, slipping past my knee, rising under my pleated grey linen uniform skirt, sliding up. More

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