So I had to sit through a meeting about insurance yesterday. Not much makes you feel older than sitting through a two hour meeting about insurance plans. Mostly because you pay attention to what is being said. A huge part of why I took this job was so that family insurance wouldn’t be an issue with Sir and I both having our own businesses. So looking at deductibles and dental coverage is a responsible parent thing that makes me want to sit around in pajamas and watch cartoons on Saturday morning.
Anyway, so I get there early (because OCD) and pick my seat around a set-up of tables in a square. Each seat has a binder of materials to flip through as other people slowly filter in. I, rather stupidly, left my phone back at the office, so I glanced at vision plans (because blind). With seats filling up and only a few minutes to spare he walked in.
My eye-candy for the morning has on his department logo shirt. It actually fit him and made his arms look possibly even more muscular than they were. Simple brown slacks were not overly dressy and his ass looked amazing. But (as previous posts on the topic will a test) he facial hair did me in. His beard was full, dark brown, and trim. He was probably a few years younger than me, but the beard game him a maturity that I found even sexier.
He sat down directly across from me, a perfect vantage point. He looked a little lost, to be honest. He began flipping through the binder, as if he wanted to make sure he was in the right place. He glanced up at me and I smiled. He smiled back, but still looked uncomfortable. After another few people wandered in and shared niceties, I glanced back over to see how eye-candy was doing. His discomfort face still hadn’t changed and I soon found out why.
As much as I had appreciated his pants, he did not. He reached down several times to adjust himself. It was like a series of small moves to see if they made a difference. Like moving his cock from side to side or shifting one ball and then the other. I kept randomly flipped pages as I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I was fascinated.
However, whatever he was doing wasn’t making enough of a difference. The poor guy kept moving things around without any relief. All I could think was how much I wanted to crawl across the room to him and lend a hand. See if I couldn’t help fix his little (or big, definitely big) problem. I’m sure his face of discomfort would turn to confusion at first. But I bet I could have gotten at least a few moans from him as I sorted out what ailed him.
When the presenter came in she put down a sign in sheet for all of us. Eye-candy took this opportunity to stand and ‘stretch’ as he walked over to it. When he came back to his seat his pained face had gone. Obviously, he had managed to sort himself, and his bits, out.
I stared at him for the next two hours thinking about how I could have done a much better job.