Excuse Me Miss is that your Hand in my Pocket?

Excuse Me Miss is that your hand in my pocket?

There are some women in the world who absolutely should not have their hand in my pocket. Not just in the proverbial sense but in a literal one. This particular woman is one of them.

Now first a set of facts. I find her absolutely stunning, in so many ways. Almost an exact blueprint of physical features to trip my trigger.  Once when asked what i thought of a particular ensemble even told her so in a very polite manner. Which if answered honestly would have been “i find you so attractive it literally makes me uncomfortable because i can’t act on it.”

Secondly i absolutely have to make sure to REALLY watch myself when around her. No flirting, cavorting, limiting conversation that is not necessary. She is literally the forbidden fruit and i steer my lust around her like Pluto’s orbit around the sun. Very fucking wide.

Third = she is available. Not spoken for etc. And i know that. Which makes avoiding  even innocent flirtation that much harder.

The sun is shining, or at least it was before i entered a room with no windows. The LCD on the wall is bigger than most football stadiums jumbotrons in the 90’s (a mild exaggeration) and a group of overly serious fuckers are staring at columns of numbers that are still not legible because there are bazillions of them.

Somewhere between a solid mid morning coffee buzz and a calorically questionable lunch it happened.  I was walking around the conference table. Stopped by the buffet and in the middle of a riveting assholish financial diatribe.

Everyone is suddenly staring at me! Ha i knew i was a mathematical savant, even if i can’t spell worth a fuck. Take Mrs Cooper you fucking cunt of a first grade teacher. (Not that i hold a grudge)

Only when the silence my prowess and acumen that had left the room completely speechless was broken with a loud panicked  “Oh my god! I am so sorry” did it occur to me there had been a hand in my left front trouser pocket that wasn’t mine.

Well hello there! Excuse me miss was that your hand in my trouser pocket?

It was however brief the fingers and hand up to the wrist of the woman in the disclaimer above. Who had apparently reached back for something in her backpack without looking.  She was immediately mortified. And once again trying to apologize.

I was a bit caught off guard but countered with. “No worries we’ve bought each other dinner a few times and these are very exciting statistics.”  Everyone laughed, she turned brighter red with further embarrassment and i continued on.

You know how once you stub your toe you keep hitting off every damn thing in the world. Well her hand in my pocket set off three or four miscues while walking where she’d all but bump into me. The back of her hand grazing my ass as she was seared and talking and of course i was standing behind her during a cocktail hour. The next day was an attempted hand on the shoulder that basically missed and got my right pec as well.

It was just fatigue stupid mis calculations, and had the first incident not occurred the rest would not have been notable. Yet i knew it was rattling her, sort of an awkward teen bumbling type thing. Nothing intended and spiralling at every turn.

Being me i’d shoot her a glance, make a remark etc. Tease her about whatever. Not out of character for me in any way, except i had never been like that with her.  The sadist in me couldn’t help but pile on in the name of good clean, harmless fun at her discomfort.

It came time to leave. She is a woman that i tend not to hug hello or good bye. Not even in the everyday social greeting kind of way. I am stoic and icy there. A handshake or waive is common. Because i am as a rule so attracted to her and have installed that barrier for myself.  (With others its trust or a lack thereof, and in some cases i am actually just reserved)

It came time to depart, so i hugged her. It felt like the right thing to do.  Not for the reasons of me being attracted to her, not because of some romantic or carnal intent but because she had a run of bad luck with incidental physical contact. And well she seemed like she needed a hug.

And perhaps my orbit can be a little less distant from now on. Unless she is smiling then i’ll ne back out there with Pluto.

About Malflic

Minor Demon, life long hedonist, sadist and general nerd. Women are my weakness and greatest addiction of choice followed by torrid love affair with coffee and caffeine. When not committing sins of the flesh I'm an unrepentant capitalist, avid reader, Star Wars, and B rate comedy movie geek.