I remember it like yesterday not because it mirrored her birthday, being cold, wet, and miserable, but because she came in with a bright smile and a very cheerful greeting. I was so happy she had returned to her old self and then it happened. Mary turned to face me, removed her coat, and was sporting the new Angora sweater.  

 More than this though Jessica's s jiggled as she moved and suddenly, I knew she was braless. I remember that note now. Remember to write it and place it between the folds of the sweater. I remember how I had told her this sweater was like I. Warm, caring, and attentive to her body's needs. I remember writing that the first time she did it, she should remove her bra, close her eyes and caress her s. When she opened them again, I wrote, she'd always remember that's how I'd treat her, and that each time she wore the sweater braless, she'd feel my caring hands her body. After that, it was hell to work with Jessica, for she hovered close, brushed against me, and drove my senses wild. I wanted nothing more than to grab her, lay her across my desk, and ravage her. Yet still I remembered she was taken. She wore that sweater quite often I recall, and each time it was braless.

 Once she had asked me for some odd form. One, which the company only used on the rarest of occasions. I knew where that form was, and could easily have told her, but instead, I insisted I'd shown her. She wore the sweater that day, and I knew before I even got up from my desk this was a mistake. Together we traveled down into the very bowels of the building way back to the furthest corner where the ancient records were kept. I showed her the box high on a shelf and the old stool I had used in the past to retrieve it. I recall how I pulled the stool forward and was about to retrieve the box when she laid her hand on my shoulder. "It’s ok Wendy," she said  

"I can get it thanks". Somewhere in that touch, I was lost, I stepped away and allowed her to retrieve it. I watched as she adjusted the stool to her own satisfaction. Watched as the angora floated away from her s and shifted so I could see more. I wanted to grab her, push her against the wall, and kiss her. I knew she'd let me.  

 I dreamt just that night, it was how she wanted it, and yet somewhere deep inside myself, I stayed under restraints. I watched as her thigh slipped into view as she placed her foot on the stool.

Watched as she tested its stability and watched as her body rose to meet the new height. My mind said to me "Go! Then, and there before it was too late”, But I didn't. Instead, I waited and watched.

Had I known what was going to happen? I wonder about that now.  

 I watched as Jessica reached for the box. Watched as she extended herself on tippy toes and stretched way too far for the tiny stool. I knew before my eyes confirmed it, that she would fall and thus it was that my hands darted out and grasped her about the thighs for support. I held her there. Her waist crushed against my chest feeling the warmth from her body. I heard her breath catch as she started the fall, and the relief as she found I was there when she needed me. As promised a few months ago.

 Again, she reached for the box, yet I did not let go. My mind no longer wished to use logic, or reason, for it was swimming in the closeness we now shared. I suddenly realized her sweater was just brushing my nose and my eyes oriented themselves. There I was mere inches from Jessica's y s. I also realized her s were hard and watched fascinated as they glided slowly back and forth against the soft material, as her body moved.  

 I know my mind wanted to one, my body said yes, yes, yes, but my conscience said no. I watched them moving back and forth, back and forth and moved my mouth closer. Perhaps, I thought, they could accidentally brush my lips, a small yet satisfying consolation.   

Closer and closer I moved, then at the last moment looked up higher. Jessica's face was obscured from my sight, and I knew it was now or never, so I opened my mouth and gently the hard bud. All in all, it was very quick, and when I looked up, she had not moved or even noticed.  

 I had gotten away with it... Yet it was so unsatisfying. It was just too short.

 Now my mind weighed, right from wrong, and I knew that was the end of it. I had managed to steal that tiny thrill from another man's girlfriend but that had to be as far as it went. Having resolved that, I then closed my eyes, opened my mouth again, and captured a bud for a second time.  

 This time I took longer, and it felt so much better. The bud was so hard and receptive to my lips. I felt like I was in heaven. I am not really sure how long the whole scene took, but I'd guess only a few seconds. I do recall though it was the shaking of Jessica's thighs in my hands that caused me to stop. As my mouth moved away, my now guilt-ridden consciousness forced me to look up. This time Jessica's face came into view.  

 Her head was slightly tilted and her eyes glazed blankly into my own. Her body shifted as she began to descend from the stool causing my hands to glide ever higher on her thighs and forcing her skirt up. I watched as her eyes closed and as her lips parted in a soft exhale of breath, and I knew one kiss would seal our fate.

 I waited till she stood again on the floor, then allowed my hands to glide almost caressingly up her body until at last my fingers slipped through her silken hair. I paused for just a moment, then as her eyes began to open, leaned in. Instead of kissing her though my lips brushed past her cheek towards her ear. "I'm sorry" I whispered. I felt her hands caress up my back and her s push hotly against me. God, I wanted this.

 More than anything, and yet somehow, I found the strength to draw her face back in front of my own. I heard the words as they came from my lips. "We Can't". I heard them but could not believe them, then repeated that I was sorry.

 For better or worse I pulled away. I watched as her eyes filled with tears and felt as though I'd just ended my own life. She had said nothing, had not tried to fight, only slowly turned and headed away. I remember watching as she made her way through the maze of storage boxes then watched as her legs slowly disappeared up the stairs. There I was alone in the darkened basement alone with my mind. I turned to follow her, then thought of the form she had been looking for, so instead I turned back to the stool. For a moment I looked at it then slowly I sat down.  

 It was all too much for me. Somehow, I was losing my fight with what was right. I was giving in to the madness or perhaps love that Jessica had inspired, and so then and there I decided it had to end.

 I never realized that such desires play upon the mind. In the most complex of situations, I can be counted on to be level-headed and logical, and yet my solution was to do something stupid. My idea for resolving the madness was to go out, pick up a lady, and have with her till I could no longer perform. I somehow rationalized that I could screw Jessica from my mind. So, after work, I went home, showered, shaved, put on my best suit, and cologne, and then went to a bar. There I did indeed find a lady. A real beauty by anyone's standards. She had the most gorgeous long wavy brown hair, and the softest blue eyes imaginable. Her legs were covered in the sheerest of stockings and her dress was a combination of modern, y, and classy.  

 We sat together enjoying the evening. Talking, listening to the music, just friendly stuff when out of the blue she asked if we could get out of there. I remember smiling, telling her of course, then going to the bar and ordering her a last drink. I also asked the bartender for the number of a local cab company, then proceeded to call and ask them to be picked up. I returned to the table and explained that the cab was on the way, so we still had time for a last dance.  

 I am not sure how long it took but eventually, the cab arrived, and we headed out. I recall opening the door and watching with lust and fascination as she swung her legs inside, then I closed the door behind her. It seems funny now, but there I stood outside the cab with a y, willing partner, just beyond the smoked glass. I recall watching as it lowered and even her words... "What's going on? I thought we were leaving". I smiled at that and said, "I'm sorry I can't". She looked at me quizzically and then said "What??? Why the not?".

 Imagine, words like that from a lady. Anyway, I know I reached inside the car, pulled her close, and kissed her on the cheek. I handed the driver some money and then said. "I can't, you're just not Jessica". I turned and then headed off to my own car and managed to get the key in the lock when she was back. She spun me about and in a flurry of profanity asked who Jessica was. I recall fighting for the answer saying, "Jessica is Jessica is".  

 When my date suddenly lunged at me. She did not attack though for instead she rammed her tongue into my mouth in an attempted passion-filled kiss. Perhaps it was an attempt to win me over, for when she had finished, she said "Does Jessica do that for you?" "No" I admitted, then added, "Jessica’s married". It seems that as fast as the last word exited my lips my date had already slapped my face and called me an . She stormed off before I even regained my balance and the last I'd seen of her was those thighs once again swinging into the cab.

 Sitting alone in the dark of my home my hand rubbed my still aching cheek. My mind kept repeating "You're just not Jessica? My God man what's gotten into you"? It must have been about 4 in the morning when I awoke still in the armchair. My neck hurt, my back hurt, and my cheek still burned. I stumbled into the bathroom snapped on the light, screamed, and snapped it off again. It just seemed too bright for my unprepared eyes. Carefully I reached over and adjusted the dimmer then tried again. This time it was much better, but still, I got a shock when I looked into the mirror.  

 One eye was swollen, almost shut, and there was still the undeniable impression of fingers along my cheekbone. Had she really hit me that hard?  

This was bad. Yet somewhere deep inside it felt like justice had been done. I really was an stepping out on Jessica.

 At six am the alarm clock just kept ringing and ringing. It nagged and nagged until at last I rolled over and shut it off. God, I felt bad. Forcing my eyes open. I gazed at the picture of my wife on the bedside table. "What am I going to do?" I asked her and knowing full well, no response would come. "Perhaps you're right," I continued after a short pause. "I should work this out myself". Slowly I sat up and tentatively touched my face, then realized I couldn't see from that side. Rising I headed to the bathroom to check out the damage, and much like last night it was swollen and black, only now the swelling was enough to close the eye entirely.  

 "I should call in sick", I said to the image, which stared back at me, yet somewhere in my mind I told myself  

 "No". It was a foolish idea, for I knew it might take a few weeks to erase the signs of my folly. Even my conscience piped up saying "Besides you should suffer the embarrassment for what you tried", and so I called the office to tell them I'd be late instead. Next, I prepared myself for a preliminary visit to the doctor before work, however, it hadn't occurred to me that I couldn't shave.