#391
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
(Continuation)
“Do you trust me, Nancy?” I said while extending my hand to her, with my palm facing upwards. - - - - - Nancy put her palm on mine for a few seconds, and during this very brief time, I contemplated hard if I should just grasp her hand. I did not. Then Nancy made two soft taps on my palm with her fingers and withdrew her hand. “I trust you”, she said. For the rest of the time at the coffee meet-up, I asked about Nancy’s interests and if she would consider pursuing such interests as a career. It was a pleasant though uneventful first meet. We planned to meet again every few weeks if our respective schedules permitted. We did not meet again until almost two months later, partly because of scheduling conflicts. Over coffee, Nancy asked about a specific industry she was interested in. While I am no expert in that specific industry, I offered a customer’s perspective. It was obvious that Nancy would have a long way to go, and would need to start from scratch, to pursue a career outside of flying or basic customer services. Prior to being a flight stewardess, her only experience was in office administration in a services company in KL. “Are you free after coffee?”, Nancy asked me. It was a quiet afternoon early in the week, and I had some down time before a client dinner. “Yes. What’s up?”, I asked Nancy. “I need to buy a dress for a wedding dinner. And I want your opinion”, she said excitedly. So it turned out that one of her crew girlfriend was getting married in a couple of weeks, and she wanted to buy a new dress, capped at $200. It was a modest budget (and she knew it), and eventually Nancy found something she liked, within budget, at Zara. Nancy tried on three different dresses, and each time she would come out of the changing room to show me, strutting towards me like a model. For the last dress she tried on, Nancy turned her back towards me. “Help me zip it up all the way”, she requested, as she held on to her long hair. I did as requested. Nancy turned to face me. The black, one-piece black A-shape dress was fitting, perhaps a little tight waist up. She took a deep breath and looked into the mirror. “Okay, this one!” she exclaimed. “And I know you like this one the best!” The feeling of helping her zip up her dress (albeit it was only for a few inches), the scented smell of her hair and her neck, was enticing. And when she took a deep breath, I could see she was doing the “chest out, stomach in” action, an attractive pose which could be escalated into a sexy pose if we knew each other better… I unzipped her dress again, just a little, before she went back to the changing room. I offered to buy her the dress but she politely declined. As we left the shop, I asked Nancy how she knew I liked the third dress the best. “Your facial expression”, she giggled. “I can see what you like!” I gave her a surprised look in response to her reply. “Really? Oh dear…”, I said cheekily. She narrowed her eyes and smiled from one-side of her lips. I did not know what exactly that expression meant, but it felt like “don’t be naughty”. “I would love to see you in this dress, complete with your dolled-up face and hair-do!”, I told Nancy. “Can! But you have to pick me up after the wedding dinner”, she shot back. I enquired about the date and venue of the dinner, and fortunately, I was available be her driver that evening. - - - - - I left my car with the hotel valet where the wedding dinner was held. Nancy had texted me earlier, saying she would be leaving in the next 30-40 minutes. I was sitting at the hotel lobby, playing with my phone and looking occasionally at ladies who caught my attention, when a bevy of beauties walked across the lobby, including Nancy. Without sounding bias, Nancy was the most attractive among the four or five ladies. She had a svelte figure with good height (about 1.72m with heels) and a sweet, smiley face illuminated by a professionally done make-up and permed long hair. I stood up from the comfortable sofa and walked towards her slowly, as Nancy hugged her girlfriends goodnight. It was a reasonably early night, around 10.30pm. It worked out well as both Nancy and I had work flights, to separate destinations, the following afternoon. It was also a good call to leave the car with the valet, who had parked it right in front of the hotel. As with most wedding receptions, the elevators to the car park and subsequent queue to exit the carpark can be more than a little wait. I told the valet not to bother driving the car to me. I tipped him, took the key, and walked Nancy just 10 metres to the car. We could hear one of her girlfriends (in the nearby taxi stand) call out “have a nice night, Nancy” in a somewhat double-meaning, but presumably well-meaning tone. As a gentleman should, I opened the door for Nancy. It was her first time in my car. Nancy gracefully tucked her long legs in. As we drove out of the hotel into the main street, Nancy said, “can we stop for a moment?”. I pulled the car aside and switched on the hazard lights. “Are you alright, Nancy?”, I asked, hoping she did not need to puke. “I am so full!” Nancy unbuckled her seat belt and turned her back at me. “Unzip a bit, can?”, she asked. I unzipped her dress just a little. “More, please”, Nancy said. I was only too happy to oblige. I had now unzipped almost one-third of her dress from the back. Nancy turned to sit snugly in my car and put on the seat belt once more. I noticed she was adjusting her long legs uncomfortably. “You can push the seat back. Second button on the left side of the seat, it’s electronic”, I suggested. (Earlier that day, my colleague and I drove out for lunch. As my colleague is a small-built lady, she had adjusted the seat forward). Nancy pushed the wrong button and her seat reclined. “I’ll help you”, I said. With no ill intentions, I went towards Nancy’s seat, cutting across her seating space, stretched my hand and found the correct button which pushed her seat back. Concurrently, Nancy pressed the button to put her seatback upright. The stars must have aligned. As Nancy’s seat became upright, her breast brushed against my left arm. She pretended as if nothing happened and simply held on to her handbag resting on her thighs, as she gratefully stretched her long legs. Nancy smelt like a cocktail of red wine, champagne and perfume. I wouldn’t say it’s a smell I like, but somehow it made me excited. (To be continued) |
#392
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
Awesome story bro, can't wait for next update!
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#393
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
(Continuation)
The stars must have aligned. As Nancy’s seat became upright, her breast brushed against my left arm. She pretended as if nothing happened and simply held on to her handbag resting on her thighs, as she gratefully stretched her long legs. Nancy smelt like a cocktail of red wine, champagne and perfume. I wouldn’t say it’s a smell I like, but somehow it made me excited. - - - - - “You’re beautiful!”, I complimented Nancy as we drove off. “Thank you, X. And thank you for sending me back”, Nancy said. “I hope you are much more comfortable now”, I checked on Nancy as we cruised along ECP. “Oh yes. And I don’t mean anything else when I asked you to unzip my dress… I can’t wait to get out of this dress, I ate so much”, she explained. “No, no, it’s absolutely fine”, I reassured Nancy. “And sorry about just now”, I continued. “What?”, Nancy asked. “I accidently touched you”, I owned up. I feel it’s always better to be upfront. “Aiyah, accidentally, it’s OK”, she brushed it off. From Marina Square area, it took only 20min at night to reach Nancy’s flat in Tampines. Luckily, I was able to find a non-resident’s parking lot easily. “I will see that you are home safely”, I tested the waters as I switched off the car engine. “Thank you, X. You’re so sweet”, Nancy replied tacitly, agreeing that I can, or should, send her upstairs to her flat. “Wait”, I told Nancy after we walked a few steps away from the car. I pulled the zip of her dress upwards, so it did not look like she was in a state of undress. To my pleasant surprise, Nancy took my hand and led the way. “This way”, she said, as she cut across the void deck to the elevator. It was not very late, about 11pm, but the estate was quiet, no one was hanging around the void deck or car park. Arriving at her floor, Nancy stepped out of the elevator first. My intention was to see her off at her door, then I will make my way home. “You want to use the wash room? It’s at least half-an-hour drive back, right?”, Nancy asked, as she opened her handbag to take the keys to the gate/front door. Nancy’s offer (to use the toilet) did not entirely surprise me. It almost felt like being on a flight, where you may want to use the toilet before the plane starts its descend (and you can’t use the toilets then). Maybe Nancy would be even friendlier inside the flat? “Oh, is that OK? I was thinking of using the Esso station toilet nearby”, I said. “Come in, my toilet is much cleaner!”, Nancy replied promptly as she pushed open the door into the flat. She switched on the lights and I saw a spartan but clean living room. It was an old 3-room HDB flat. “Green tea?”, she offered, remembering that I like my green tea when I was on her flight. “Yes, please”, I readily agreed. It seemed like Nancy was happy to have me around, for a cup of tea at the very least. I went into the bathroom and took a pee, and wet my face to refresh. For sure, it was much cleaner and comfortable than a gas station toilet. And a distinctively more “homely” feel – there was a pail with several pieces of panties and bras inside….. Nancy had already prepared a piping hot cup of green tea when I returned to the living room. Moments later, Nancy emerged from one of the two bedrooms. She was holding what looked like a t-shirt and sports shorts. “I need to get out of this dress, wait a while, ok?”, she said and walked into the bathroom without waiting for my reply. As the tea was very hot, I took a magazine from the coffee table and started flipping through the pages randomly, waiting for my drink to cool down. At the same time, I could hear water splattering from the bathroom. Nancy was taking a shower. I had drank about half the cup of tea when Nancy came out of the bathroom. She wore a loose grey t-shirt which covered most of her black shorts. She had tied up her hair and removed her make-up. She was a natural beauty. “Where’s your room mate?”, I asked her casually. “She’s coming back tomorrow from Hong Kong”, she replied. I assumed her room mate was a fellow crew member. Nancy then took her phone and sat next to me, showing me the pictures from the wedding dinner earlier. We sat together, closely, on the sofa, looking at the various pictures. Unconsciously, we were making body contact. I found my right arm resting against the left side of her body as she leaned towards me to scroll the pictures on her phone. I tried very hard to focus on the pictures, but my eyes inevitably strayed to look at her exposed thighs, downwards to her shapely, leggy limbs. At the same time, I sensed a growing bulge in my jeans. I was developing a hard-on as Nancy opened another album on her phone to show me pictures of herself when she first joined the airline. Her side boob was rubbing against my arm through her thin t-shirt. It was obvious Nancy was cherishing my presence. I really wanted to feel her smooth, sexy legs. And maybe a little more… (To be continued) |
#394
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
Nice update TS, look forward to next!
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#395
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
The updates left us wanting more leh. Please come back Online2Offline.
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#396
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
Hey, bro! Nice timing, I just had time to write.... coming up!
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#397
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
(Continuation)
I tried very hard to focus on the pictures, but my eyes inevitably strayed to look at her exposed thighs, downwards to her shapely, leggy limbs. At the same time, I sensed a growing bulge in my jeans. I was developing a hard-on as Nancy opened another album on her phone to show me pictures of herself when she first joined the airline. Her side boob was rubbing against my arm through her thin t-shirt. It was obvious Nancy was cherishing my presence. I really wanted to feel her smooth, sexy legs. And maybe a little more… - - - - - Just as I was scheming how to be more physical without scaring her, the “Low Battery” alert appeared on her phone. “Oh I have to charge my phone!”, Nancy exclaimed. She was very keen to continue showing me her photos. To be frank, I enjoyed looking at them too as she was indeed very photogenic, plus I was enjoying the warmth of her body slowly but surely making more contact with mine. Nancy got up from the sofa and headed towards her bedroom. As she pushed open the door, she turned back and looked at me. “Come in lah, my charger is in the room.” I knew at once that Nancy either trusted me a lot, or she was hinting of something else… Her room featured a queen size bed, a four-panel built-in wardrobe, and a dressing table with a chair. There were three luggage, ostensibly small, medium and large sizes, respectively. A clothing rack that had several items of clothing on hangers, and perhaps up to ten shoe boxes stacked at one corner. Slightly messy in look and feel, but distinctively homely. Nancy plugged in her phone to charge as she sat at the edge of her bed. She patted on her bed, motioning me to sit next to her. Save for the chair tucked into the dressing table, there was nowhere else to sit, excluding the floor. “Sorry, a bit messy…”, Nancy said without looking at me, as she scrolled through some photos on her now-charging phone. “You are very attractive. And very trusting”, I said. We were sitting side-by-side at the edge of her bed, with just slight body contact as my right arm touched her left arm. Nancy put her phone down and looked at me. “If I don’t trust you, I won’t invite you to my flat”, she said matter-of-factly. “I can sense it if someone wants to be fresh with me. You are very well behaved”, she continued. Then she placed her left hand on my right thigh, as if to comfort me, and concurrently assure herself that she “read me correctly”. It was an embarrassing moment for me. Because as her hand landed on my thigh, it was where my stiff cock had naturally parked itself. In short, her palm landed on the tip of my lengthened cock underneath my jeans. “Car key?”, she said nervously, but obviously knowing what she had just touched. “Car key don’t come alive”, I replied calmly, as I feel my cock pulsating. Nancy giggled like a teenager and partially buried her head onto my shoulder. I took the opportunity to extend my right hand over her shoulders and pulled her closer towards me. “You heartbeat is fast!”, I said. It was probably my own heartbeat, but I deflected it to Nancy. She innocently put her hand on the left side of her chest for a few seconds, then moved her hand to my chest. “Yours, too”, she said. I was about to grab her left breast to, you know, check on her heartbeat. But the “trust” comment she made earlier stopped me in the nick of time. Instead, I took Nancy’s hand and placed it on her left breast. She was surprised but did not resist. Then I placed my hand over her hand. “I can’t really feel the heartbeat”, I said. Nancy pulled her hand away and allowed my hand to touch her soft breast and pointed nipple, from the outside of her t-shirt. The moment that happened, my cock jerked and hardened further underneath my jeans. As her left hand was still resting at the tip of my cock and thigh, her fingers began to play with my meat. I massaged Nancy’s left breast and effectively made her nipple even harder. Telepathically, we started to kiss lightly, then with more suction and wetness. Nancy leaned backwards, taking me with her. We were both laying down in bed. I went on top of Nancy and continued kissing her, balancing my body carefully so my body weight would not discomfort her. As we rolled a little in bed, I slipped my hand underneath her t-shirt and for the very first time, felt the smoothness of her body and the tenderness of her breasts, and two pointed nipples! “OK, we have to stop”, Nancy said just as we stopped kissing. “I am having my menses.” I was horny and desperate. But given the circumstances, I (we) had to stop being intimate. “You make me feel very comfortable. Let’s go for a drink the next time we meet”, Nancy said as we sat up in bed. While my sexual urge had not been doused, I was happy with Nancy’s suggestion. We kissed lightly and I took my leave. I walked back to my car with a massive hard-on. I haven’t had a cigarette in a few hours, and suddenly I was dying for a smoke. Leaning against my car, I lit a cigarette and my mind drifted off, thinking about my next date with Nancy. (To be continued) |
#398
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
Car key don't come alive.
Damn smooth. |
#399
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
Oh yeah, the car key.....
Check out the shape of this car key (first picture) - https://blog.protectmycar.com/do-car...acking-devices |
#400
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
(Continuation)
I walked back to my car with a massive hard-on. I haven’t had a cigarette in a few hours, and suddenly I was dying for a smoke. Leaning against my car, I lit a cigarette and my mind drifted off, thinking about my next date with Nancy. - - - - - Scheduling a date with Nancy, who obviously travelled most of the time due to her profession, was not easy, and it was compounded by my frequent business travels. It would be another month before I had a chance to hook up with Nancy again. Our original plan to visit a special installation at Gardens by the Bay followed by dinner and drinks was scuppered a day before our date, as Nancy was asked at the eleventh hour, to be on “standby”, which is like being a “reserve” player in a team who may be called upon to play. “Sorry I can’t go out tomorrow”, she texted me. “Last minute assignment to standby. Gotta stay at home.” I was unable to reply Nancy promptly as I was in a meeting. I do not know if my non-response played a part in her next message to me. Some half-an-hour later, Nancy texted “Would you like to come over for early dinner instead? I’ll cook something simple for the two of us.” “I will be so glad to be treated to your home cooking”, I replied Nancy promptly this time. The following day, I left the office earlier than usual as dinner was set for 6pm. As I found out later, Nancy was on standby for the red-eye Shanghai flight, which I had previously taken. If I recall correctly, the flight departs 1.30am. When Nancy opened the front door of her flat to let me in, it was a funny sight, for me at least - she was all dolled-up but wearing her “home wear” i.e. t-shirt and shorts. “I am on standby, remember?”, Nancy began as she sighted my amused look. “If I am activated, I have to report at the airport within a short time”, she continued. Essentially, Nancy had put on her make-up in case she had to work later. She just needed to tie-up her hair, touch-up her make-up and put on her crew uniform and she would be ready to go. “That will take 20 minutes”, Nancy said in concluding her explanation to me. “I will drive you to the airport if you are activated”, I told Nancy. “And it will take only 10 minutes. It’s the least I can do.” Nancy nodded gratefully and we started our dinner. It was a simple dinner, consisting of steamed fish and two types of vegetables, with rice. Nancy poured me a glass of wine but refrained from joining me just in case she needed to work later. She also promised to prepare home-made soup the next time, when she has more time. Over dinner, Nancy asked me about certain financial industry matters, and I offered whatever advice I could. When her phone (which was in silent mode) received a message, she would glance at it. It made me appreciate more that she hosted dinner despite potentially having to go to work later. It was hardly 8pm and we were done with dinner. I offered to do the dishes in return for a cup of coffee. I just wanted Nancy to feel more relaxed. Though she initially protested, Nancy eventually gave in. Washing five or six plates was easy-peasy. As I washed, the Nespresso hummed and the rich coffee aroma floated through the kitchen. Returning back to the dining table, Nancy had brought out her laptop. She motioned for me to sit on the chair next to her (as opposed to opposite her), as she enquired about some financial products online. We didn’t keep track of time. Then a message came in on her phone and Nancy chose to read it. She did not say anything and just walked to the kitchen. I continued reading the fine print on the laptop screen. Nancy was back at the dining table within a minute. She brought two wine glasses. “All the crew had reported to work. I am no longer on standby”, Nancy smiled. I looked at my watch. It was just after 9pm. “Oh, do you need to leave soon?”, Nancy looked at me, slightly disappointed. “No, no, not at all!”, I assured her. “It’s still early. And I’m a little thirsty”, I grinned. Nancy immediately served up two glasses of wine. We clinked glasses and continued going through the product features online. I sensed an air of relaxation as Nancy pushed aside her phone, obviously not intending to read any more messages or take calls. “Thanks for explaining. I am not good at understanding the terminologies”, Nancy said, topping up my drink. “Give me a few minutes, I want to remove my make-up”. As Nancy stepped into the bathroom, I took my drink and sat at the sofa, catching up on work emails and phone messages from the past few hours. “Busy?”, Nancy called out as she walked towards me some 10 minutes later. Even without her make-up, Nancy looked radiant. She took her drink, and the bottle of wine, and sat beside me at the sofa. “OK, last glass for you”, Nancy said as she filled up my half-empty glass. “Why, you afraid I may get drunk?”, I said. “And then I become naughty?”, I teased her. “No lah! You are driving”, she laughed. “But I can continue drinking”, she said smugly. “And don’t be naughty!”, she said in jest. She pulled out a scrap book from the stack of magazines on the coffee table and showed me some drawings. Nothing too impressive, just pencil sketches of everyday objects. “I like to draw when I was in school. Can you draw?”, Nancy asked, almost with an air of superiority. I took a pencil and showed her my talent. Well, sort of talent. I was good at “stick drawing” i.e. stick-like figures (people) in a variety of poses and situations. Nancy curled up to me, grabbing a pencil to “add to” my stick drawings each time I drew something. Unknown to her, my stick drawings were inspired by Kamasutra positions. She innocently “added” flowers and chairs and what not to my stick drawings. I “added” (drew) more items after her “add on”. We were having fun and there was a sense of closeness. A little sexual tension, if you like. It felt like “who would make the first move”. As Nancy was sitting on my left, part of her right breast would occasionally brush against my arm or body. I don’t think it was entirely intentional. But she certainly made no effort to avoid it. (To be continued) |
#401
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
Bro, excellent writing, can’t read enuff of ur adventures!
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#402
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Quote:
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#403
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
Support nice story !
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#404
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
Thank you TS for sharing nice story.
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#405
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Re: Fireflies, White Shirt & Other Stories
Excellent story here, please continue bro
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