Life of an Intern, pt. IV  

rm_annaalyn 37M/38F
0 posts
7/16/2006 9:56 pm
Life of an Intern, pt. IV

"You OK?" he asked.

I flashed him an embarrassed smile and cleared my throat. "Yeah, fine."


You, I thought. You are the sort of man that suits my tastes. But I fought the urge to tell him that. Instead, I described my fiance. "Tall, dark and handsome. And intelligent and witty and sweet. And he can't have bad breath. Isn't that what every girl wants?"

"It is. But what do you want?"

I smiled at him, but narrowed my eyes. "Why do you want to know so badly?"

"I'm curious. And it's fun to talk about this stuff. You can tell me anything you want -- I promise our conversation isn't going to leave this car."

"Fair enough. What, specifically, do you want to know?"

"Hmm ... what is the one thing a guy absolutely must have, as far as you're concerned?"

I grinned. I couldn't help it. "You really want to know?"

"I really want to know." He leaned in closer. "Tell me."

I moved closer, too, until our faces were inches apart. Emphasizing each word, I answered, "A really, really big dick."

I let my words sink in, then I sat back in the passenger seat and crossed my legs, revealing the white lace top of a thigh-high stocking.

I thought I heard him murmur, "Then you'd love me."

The air thickened as we sat in silence, each thinking about what the other had said. I smiled, then broke the silence. "What do you like in a woman?"

He reached over and fingered a lock of my hair. "I love blondes."

"You and a hundred million of your closest friends."

"You're not exactly alone on your big dicks preference either," he pointed out.


"I also like these," he said, running his fingers lightly over my exposed lace.

I shivered. If he was just flirting, this wasn't fair. I wanted to climb on top of him and fuck him right there, but the thought of my thong-clad ass hitting the horn as I slid up and down his hard cock stopped me from acting out the fleeting fantasy. Instead, I said, "Better watch it. Aren't you married?"

He bit his lower lip. "I was just flirting."


"Nothing wrong with that," he added.

"I completely agree with you." I did, but then again, I've never had a conscience to speak of, so my opinion on the matter of infidelity is admittedly slanted. And I wanted to fuck him. "So how big is your dick?"

I couldn't believe I asked my boss that question. But he had commented on -- and touched -- my thigh-highs, so his cock was obviously fair game. It's like when someone buys you $20 worth of drinks at a bar. You have to put out; it's only fair.

"Hmm ... I've been told it's quite big."

I've heard that before. Any guy who hasn't been told it's quite big must be microscopic. We girls are big fans of positive reinforcement.

"How big?"

"I've never measured, but maybe eight or nine inches." He pressed his jeans around the outline of his cock as I watched. It was impressive. "About that big."

There was that will power problem again -- I couldn't resist. I moved to touch it, but he stopped me. "No, Anna. I am married. I just showed you because you asked."

I don't understand men. I shrugged and opened the door. "Goodnight, Tom."

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