Her hand rests between her thighs

She had assumed a fairly relaxed working position. This time she sat directly opposite me. And I knelt in front of the copier, I could look right up her skirt. Her hand rested between her thighs.
In my mind, I fantasized what I might see if the hand were not there. Damn you! I thought. And I meant both the sweet office worker and the bulge in my pants, which I had to somehow conceal.
"I'm really sorry to bother you, " I said a little louder, "but I'll have to ask you to hold that roller here for a moment."
Startled, the lady jumped out of her executive chair. "Oh - of course, I'm coming. May I actually ask for your name? "She asked. I realized that we had not even introduced ourselves. In order to relax the situation, we decided to do just that. Her name was Solveig." Swedish mother", she added, before I could ask. I was sure she heard that question a lot.
The thought crossed my mind that I would look right under her dress if I stayed kneeling now, so I stood up as she was walking across the room.
After the broken part (a broken cog) was removed, Solveig went back to the desk and got to work.
I rummaged through my spare parts case for the right replacement.
"You clearly like blondes ..." I was stunned.
Well... it might have been thoughtful to stand up, in order to not keep peeking under that lady's skirt. But it would have been better to stay down. Because of the bump in my pants.
Silently, I reassembled the copier. Solveig was hammering some texts into her computer.
The situation had to be solved somehow.