Up with People

I mean he is really cute. But, so is his boyfriend and so is the guy across from us at the table. So is the singer they all came to see. So is the entire staff of my employees who schlep the drinks to the table.

So, why did this happen to me? Tonight? I feel like a 12 year old boy. All, pitched tents and camp sleeping bags. You show me yours and I'll show you mine.

I am his friend. He is mine. I love his boyfriend. We are friends. I have never made an advance on him nor him on me.

But, tonight, I sat there next to him and he put his hand on my thigh. "Oh my..." As he began to caress it,(non-sexually) I began to grow and swell with excitement and desire. At first, I thought it could be ignored and it would dissipate. But, as he continued the friendly fondling with no expectations on his end, my manhood stood up for itself. I began to fear being discovered not only by my friend's hand, but by the surrounding customers. Or, better yet, by my staff. Because, of course, right now would be the exact time a dire emergency would require my attention. While I was standing at attention.

Wet puppies. Baseball. Newborn babies. RATS. Anything to discourage my hormones. But, no such luck. The libido speaks louder than the words in my mind.

I began to sweat. I could feel the lights searching for my shiny skin as the beads of sweat created a new texture to my face. Do I tell him to stop and embarrass him and me? Do I make a joke like I am being aroused but pretend I am actually not? That would probably force me to get up...from the table that is. And, the truth is, I can't. (I should have never bought these jeans in a 30)

So, I act fast. I grab his hand. I pat it the way a mother would when she's telling her son/daughter it will all be okay. I plaster a huge toothy grin on my face and say, "You can't do that right now. " (insert a tiny forced hee-hee) I continue, "Just stop...and don't ask, and turn away because I getting up (argh!) to leave now."

As I did rise (oy!) to leave the table, I caught him catch a glimpse. He wanted to know if he really had done this thing to me. He had. I wanted to go pat him on the back, because that looked like what he wanted. He looked so proud of his achievement. Instead, I shamefully hustled to the nearest employees only and burst into laughter that steadily became tears.

Is that chemistry? Or was I just extra-extra horny? Or is it both? Or could it have been anyone in that moment, if they touched me just right?

Who knew one of my G spots was the inside of my right thigh through a too-tight pair of Lucky Jeans.