Flirt with Brandon

You've never had much interest in beefcakes like Ted. He may be the opposite of your gamer husband, but Brandon is way more your type. You need brains attached to the body. While Ted is talking you keep flicking your gaze to Brandon as he makes his coffee concoction. He even brings a little syrup bottle from home to pour in an extra flavoring. When Ted reaches a pause in his meat-head monologue you blow him off and saunter back to the coffee maker. Ted doesn't seem to care, he disappears, leaving you alone with the hot geek from marketing.

"I'd like to taste some of that," you say, circling the top of the syrup bottle with your finger.

"Help yourself," says Brandon, doing a pretty good job of concealing that he is totally checking you out. That's fine, you're totally checking him out. Designer jeans, cute butt, a sandstone jacket worn over his usual black turtleneck. The marketing boys get to play casual Fridays, but Brandon still looks buttoned up in those jeans. You smile and pour his syrup into your coffee, snapping the cap closed and licking a vanilla-flavored drip from your fingertip. Brandon can't look away from that one.

"You look tense," you observe. "You need to relax."

"Oh," Brandon looks at himself like he will see the tension. "I guess it's the deadline. Marketing has a big project - a new package for earbuds we're trying to sell to the Japanese - and I'm supposed to have the mockups done today. Mr. Perry is all over me about it."

"I'm in the same situation." You find your swizel stick with the tip of your tongue and drink a bit of coffe through it. "Only accounting stuff. Much less fun."

"It's no fun with any deadline," he sips his coffee. Nice lips too. You bet he's a good kisser. Brandon moves the conversation to the last episode of that HBO show everybody is watching. You watch the show and Brandon has some good insights about the characters, but you're more interested in the hot sex scene. You say as much to Brandon and his cheeks flush. So cute. He hardly even has a response.

You touch his hand and arm when you're talking, you laugh and lean forward to show him your cleavage, you're practically throwing out a sign for him to make a move, but the shy geek doesn't.

"I'd better get back to work," you say, realizing you've burned fifteen minutes talking to him.

"Yeah, um, hey," he stops you as you turn to walk away. "I was, uh, I mean I know you are married, but as friends, did you want to go with me to lunch. There's this food truck I've been following on twitter and it has these amazing Mexican-Chinese potstickers. I mean, uh, just as friends."

What an adorable dork! You're so smitten with his "gee, gosh, I mean I know that you're married" invitation to have lunch that you are feeling a familiar stirring in your loins. You want HIM for lunch. Maybe it would be better to lure him to your office under false pretenses and then pounce. You'd love to hear what he has to say when you're grabbing a handful of his hard cock and climbing on top of him. Something about twitter, probably.