Erotica Book Shop

There are 4371 books in our shop!

cart logo

(0)

Search by Title, Author or words

Erotica Book Shop

There are 4371 books in our shop!

cart logo

(0)

Search by Title, Author or words

Erotica Book Shop

cart logo

(0)

Search by Title, Author or words

Twitter

HOT BOOKS TODAY

Sales levels (discs numbered 1 to 5)
apply to sales in the first 28 days
on our own sites.

sales level 0

1.  Gangbang Poker - A First Time Taboo Short Story - Nicola Diaz

sales level 1

2.  Touch Me - Argus

sales level 1

3.  Order Me - Argus

sales level 0

4.  Miss Carmine's Ladies' Correctional Service - Michaela Francis

sales level 0

5.  Senior Project - Wayne Mitchell

sales level 0

6.  Unbridled Desires - Emily Sinclaire

sales level 0

7.  Melanie's Story - Book 1 - Marcus Cashman

sales level 0

8.  Exhibitionist Kate - Alexis Alexandra

sales level 0

9.  The Secret Sex Room - Thomas Handover

sales level 0

10.  Sissy Feminization - Controlling His Life - Scarlett Steele

Recent Best Sellers

1.  Wicked Wanda - Shooter3704

2.  Exam Day - Honey West

3.  Down Bitch - Sara Babyac

4.  The Leasing of Lindsay - Erik D. Astor

5.  A Black Man's Guide to Sexing White Wives - Erik D. Astor

6.  SEAL the Deal - Shooter3704

7.  The Legend Of Marshal Jim Witt - Shooter3704

8.  The Vice Principal's Discipline - Argus

9.  Her Eighteenth Birthday - Adam Jepsrock

10.  10 Dates For My Wife - Erik D. Astor

11.  The Widows of Dracula - Anara Delight

12.  The Stroll - Shooter3704

13.  Dark Science - Debbie Durschka

14.  The Interview - Argus

15.  Wild In Wyoming - Argus

16.  The Dream - Shooter3704

17.  Party-hardy - Shooter3704

18.  The Making of a Whore - Shooter3704

19.  The Wolf Girl - Argus

20.  Gordy - Shooter3704

The Space Between The Rings (T.D. Robertson)


The Space Between The Rings by T.D. Robertson

$4.99

Add To Cart

More By This Author

    • Not yet rated. Buy this book and be the first to rate it!

Their Passion Kindled on the Job! Welcome to BS, the digital document processing giant in the Midwest, where sexually scandalous behavior between employer and employee is seemingly encouraged as if it were the normal corporate culture. Sean Landau answered BS's call for a computer programmer and was unexpectedly introduced to the company's lascivious conduct during his first interview with the sexy hiring manager, Nancy Adams. Some casual conference room flirting fans the flame of desire, and suddenly Sean finds himself in love with his new boss. But does she love him? Or is she involved with the Director? Is she just using him to help her boot the Director from her life? The Space Between the Rings is a contemporary, romantic comedy with a high level of erotic content under the canopy of sexually incorrect corporate culture.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Renaissance E Books    Published: 3 / 2007

No. words: 40000

Style: Romance -    Romance - general

Available Formats: PDF  MS Reader  


Excerpt

CHAPTER I

"Would you care for anything to drink?" The flight attendant was brunette, buxom and all business.

"Ginger Ale." Nancy was anxious. Hell, she practically spewed saliva like a lawn sprinkler from her nearly foaming mouth. Well, maybe it wasn`t that bad, but anyone watching got the idea she wanted the fucking Ginger Ale and hurry.

"Ginger Ale," the flight attendant repeated as she passed the drink past me to Nancy at the window seat. "And you?"

"What beers do you have?" I always ask this question, but I rarely give a shit. Just don`t make it light unless it`s Amstel Light. I prefer pilsners, ambers, and/or dark/stouts. I can`t stomach wheats, honeys, or any "flavorful" beers like raspberry or pumpkin or cinnamon apple or some such. And yes there probably is some idiot brewing cinnamon apple ale. Like I said, I didn`t care what beers she had, I just liked to ask.

"Bud, Budlite, Miller Lite, Miller Genuine Draft, and Heineken," the flight attendant shot that information out of her mouth like a stock ticker--boom, boom, boom, boom and Heineken. I mean she was, as I said, all work, no bullshit.

She had great tits too. I`m not always careful about how I notice a woman`s scoops. I can`t help it. I usually look and form a judgment before I even realize that I was looking. I try not to gawk, but I know I do anyway, so I forgive myself for gawking as long as I don`t drool.

Thankfully I didn`t drool at our flight attendant`s rack even though she bounced them so close to my face while she was taking my order I could have stuck my nose in her businesses. I wasn`t going to get to check the channels on the flight attendant`s knobs anyway with them buried beneath the light blue uniform shirt and dark blue sweater. Nor was her shirt opened low enough for me to get much of a cleavage shot. She slammed the door on what little I could see by covering herself with her left hand as she readied her right hand on some can of beer while she was giving me the stock options.

I was busted. She caught me. Like I said, I don`t always notice when I`m noticing.

"Heine..."

She popped and propped a can of Heineken in my hand before I could get the last of the name out of my mouth. She fired, "Four fifty please," at me like a vigilante sweeping the neighborhood streets clean of all perverts.

C`est la vie. I enjoy taking the Peeper Plunge down the Mammary Gulley. No harm no foul. I`ll enjoy it after I`m married, and I`ll enjoy it when I`m old and gray. What is that--you can look but you better not touch? Read the menu but you got to eat at home? Look, I was never a `clean little boy`, and I thoroughly expect to become a `dirty old man` too. So consider my wandering eye to be nothing more than practice or experience for a post retirement occupation.

Anyway, I wasn`t quite so fast with getting the cash to the flight attendant as she was getting the beer to me. In fact, I did what I know all the flight attendants hate, gave her a twenty.

"I`ll be back with your change in a bit. Would you care for something to drink?" and she advanced to the row in front of us, with the bookmark of returning change to me.

I figure they have to hate that. I would if I was them. I`ve seen the beholden look on their faces as they announce that "they`ll be back in a bit with your change." Beholden in the sense that after servicing a hundred or so other passengers with free beverages, moving the cart up and down and out of the way for small bladder passengers, retrieving pillows from overhead compartments, retrieving blankets from overhead compartments, answering questions about arrival times, and if there is anything else besides nuts `cause I have that thing with nuts, and navigating it all through occasional and random acts of turbulence now the attendant has to find change and get it back to you. And oh by the way, they don`t take tips.

I washed the minor guilt I felt away with a gulp of suds and reassessed my environs. This was a smaller plane, a Boeing MD80. Nancy and I were assigned to a set of seats several rows up from where we were now on the back row, and we were suppose to be on the right side with three seats. As good fortune would have it, however, the flight wasn`t full, closer to three fourths. Upon discovering our luck, Nancy relocated us to the very back of the plane. Last row, left side, she got the window.

Taking another sip of my beer I glanced over at Nancy and wondered why she didn`t request any vodka or something. Why`d she just order Ginger Ale? Especially with how nervous I could see that she was combined with all that went on yesterday? Hell I almost felt like we were a couple of criminals today fleeing the scene of a crime. We weren`t the criminals of course, although there was a crime. Nancy and I were the accusers rather than the accused. A lot of shit went down yesterday, and I`m still scratching my head on how we got to sneak away like this.

Anyway, it made me want to have a beer, so cheers. Nancy? She doesn`t drink beer. She does like her vodka though. So why`d she just order soda? Because she has her own stash of mini bottles in her purse and so all she needed was just a fucking can of mixer, a small plastic glass with ice, and some room while she concocts her Aunt Nancy`s Special Elixir of Calm M`Quivers--80 proof. Hey, I`m guessing that somewhere along the line she saved money doing it this way, so who am I to judge?

Speaking of which, I mentioned how fast the flight attendant was at shooting me a can of brew before I had finished saying the product name? Well by the time the flight attendant`s blue polyester covered pooper produced the drink for the bald guy in front of me, Nancy had her ice cubes doused with Crown Royal in the convenient travel size bottle and was en route to adding the Ginger Ale fizzle. Impressive.

I looked at my watch. Nine a.m. Three quarters of a plane full of passengers minus two sipping soda, coffee, fruit juice or sleeping. Not us. Feeling like I`m on the lamb or taking a victory lap on a plane ride, I`ve got to tell you now, before you form the wrong opinion, I don`t usually drink this early ... except on St. Patty`s Day, and its April seventeen. Two days past tax day and a month since St. Patty`s Day, so no I`m not usually having cocktails at this hour. I`m usually not having cocktails at this hour while on a plane, with my boss, and heading to a business meeting either. Even if that were all true I`m especially not used to having drinks at this hour with my boss on my second day on the job. No shit. Did you catch that? Nancy`s my new boss and today is my second day on the job.

All that shit that went down yesterday on my first day of work, combined with how I`m drinking at the start of my second day of work, makes me wonder if this is the right place for me to work. Anyway, the HR lady gave me the `wanna come on board` question two weeks ago. By the end of that week, I was in the `Lab` taking a squirt in a cup. I continued my programming trade at BS yesterday, whereupon the frisky little vixen seated next to me and my new boss informed me that we were heading to San Diego tomorrow. That`d be today.

Two weeks ago. Yesterday. Today. Do you believe it? I just barely do, and I`m living it right now. It`s been amazing. It`s been atmospheric. And for a boss? Nancy`s the hottest little thing I`ve ever worked for. That includes all the restaurant jobs I held before I graduated college. She captured me the first time I laid eyes on her. I fell in love with her vodka burping little ass right off. First thing. Did I drop that yet? No? Oh shit.

It caught me off guard. I mean in one tick I`m interviewing for a job, and in the next, I`m flirting with who might become my boss. You hear what I`m saying? Not just me though. I flirted with her, and she flirted with me. I am so ready to slap a label of `All Time Favorite Job` on this BS gig, you know? BS, of course being the name of my new company, but I`ll get to all that later.

There are two bottom lines here: work and play. The first bottom line is that I`ve been working in the professional world for fourteen years now, and I`ve had at least a half a dozen different occupations during that time. I`ve been a laborer, fitness counselor, salesman, HR recruiter, corporate trainer, Finance Analyst, and now IT programmer. The other bottom line is that I`ve been on the dating circuit for twenty-three years or since I was fifteen. My love life is and always has been a wreck. I`ve dated all the hair colors, many of the skin colors, several nationalities, older woman, young girls, some full figured, some waifs, some buxom and some barely there. But someone I work with? Someone I work for?

Did I fall in love with my boss? Yeah. I did. I never saw it coming. I mean it wasn`t in the job posting you know? That read:

"WANTED: Programmer Analyst with BS, a company you`ll grow to love."

Not.

"WANTED: Programmer Analyst who`ll fall in love with the boss."

But that`s how I hear falling in love goes. Blind Cupid shooting an arrow and it`s suddenly spring and the birds and the bees and let me fondle these. It is April after all, you know? Anyway, that`s how it happened for me. I mixed my bottom lines of work and play together, and Cupid was on me like an aging, psychopathic Vietnam War vet. A fucking Marine no less, huh? Now do you see why I`m sipping so early in the morning? No? It`s a long flight. Just listen.


Author Information

.

 

Publisher Information

Renaissance E Books publishes the best in classic and contemporary popular fiction and nonfiction through its PageTurner imprint, and the best in classic and contemporary erotica through its Sizzler imprint.

Twitter

HOT BOOKS TODAY

Sales levels (discs numbered 1 to 5)
apply to sales in the first 28 days
on our own sites.

sales level 0

1.  Gangbang Poker - A First Time Taboo Short Story - Nicola Diaz

sales level 1

2.  Touch Me - Argus

sales level 1

3.  Order Me - Argus

sales level 0

4.  Miss Carmine's Ladies' Correctional Service - Michaela Francis

sales level 0

5.  Senior Project - Wayne Mitchell

sales level 0

6.  Unbridled Desires - Emily Sinclaire

sales level 0

7.  Melanie's Story - Book 1 - Marcus Cashman

sales level 0

8.  Exhibitionist Kate - Alexis Alexandra

sales level 0

9.  The Secret Sex Room - Thomas Handover

sales level 0

10.  Sissy Feminization - Controlling His Life - Scarlett Steele

Recent Best Sellers

1.  Wicked Wanda - Shooter3704

2.  Exam Day - Honey West

3.  Down Bitch - Sara Babyac

4.  The Leasing of Lindsay - Erik D. Astor

5.  A Black Man's Guide to Sexing White Wives - Erik D. Astor

6.  SEAL the Deal - Shooter3704

7.  The Legend Of Marshal Jim Witt - Shooter3704

8.  The Vice Principal's Discipline - Argus

9.  Her Eighteenth Birthday - Adam Jepsrock

10.  10 Dates For My Wife - Erik D. Astor

11.  The Widows of Dracula - Anara Delight

12.  The Stroll - Shooter3704

13.  Dark Science - Debbie Durschka

14.  The Interview - Argus

15.  Wild In Wyoming - Argus

16.  The Dream - Shooter3704

17.  Party-hardy - Shooter3704

18.  The Making of a Whore - Shooter3704

19.  The Wolf Girl - Argus

20.  Gordy - Shooter3704

The Space Between The Rings (T.D. Robertson)


The Space Between The Rings by T.D. Robertson

$4.99

Add To Cart

More By This Author

    • Not yet rated. Buy this book and be the first to rate it!

Their Passion Kindled on the Job! Welcome to BS, the digital document processing giant in the Midwest, where sexually scandalous behavior between employer and employee is seemingly encouraged as if it were the normal corporate culture. Sean Landau answered BS's call for a computer programmer and was unexpectedly introduced to the company's lascivious conduct during his first interview with the sexy hiring manager, Nancy Adams. Some casual conference room flirting fans the flame of desire, and suddenly Sean finds himself in love with his new boss. But does she love him? Or is she involved with the Director? Is she just using him to help her boot the Director from her life? The Space Between the Rings is a contemporary, romantic comedy with a high level of erotic content under the canopy of sexually incorrect corporate culture.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Renaissance E Books    Published: 3 / 2007

No. words: 40000

Style: Romance -    Romance - general

Available Formats: PDF  MS Reader  


Excerpt

CHAPTER I

"Would you care for anything to drink?" The flight attendant was brunette, buxom and all business.

"Ginger Ale." Nancy was anxious. Hell, she practically spewed saliva like a lawn sprinkler from her nearly foaming mouth. Well, maybe it wasn`t that bad, but anyone watching got the idea she wanted the fucking Ginger Ale and hurry.

"Ginger Ale," the flight attendant repeated as she passed the drink past me to Nancy at the window seat. "And you?"

"What beers do you have?" I always ask this question, but I rarely give a shit. Just don`t make it light unless it`s Amstel Light. I prefer pilsners, ambers, and/or dark/stouts. I can`t stomach wheats, honeys, or any "flavorful" beers like raspberry or pumpkin or cinnamon apple or some such. And yes there probably is some idiot brewing cinnamon apple ale. Like I said, I didn`t care what beers she had, I just liked to ask.

"Bud, Budlite, Miller Lite, Miller Genuine Draft, and Heineken," the flight attendant shot that information out of her mouth like a stock ticker--boom, boom, boom, boom and Heineken. I mean she was, as I said, all work, no bullshit.

She had great tits too. I`m not always careful about how I notice a woman`s scoops. I can`t help it. I usually look and form a judgment before I even realize that I was looking. I try not to gawk, but I know I do anyway, so I forgive myself for gawking as long as I don`t drool.

Thankfully I didn`t drool at our flight attendant`s rack even though she bounced them so close to my face while she was taking my order I could have stuck my nose in her businesses. I wasn`t going to get to check the channels on the flight attendant`s knobs anyway with them buried beneath the light blue uniform shirt and dark blue sweater. Nor was her shirt opened low enough for me to get much of a cleavage shot. She slammed the door on what little I could see by covering herself with her left hand as she readied her right hand on some can of beer while she was giving me the stock options.

I was busted. She caught me. Like I said, I don`t always notice when I`m noticing.

"Heine..."

She popped and propped a can of Heineken in my hand before I could get the last of the name out of my mouth. She fired, "Four fifty please," at me like a vigilante sweeping the neighborhood streets clean of all perverts.

C`est la vie. I enjoy taking the Peeper Plunge down the Mammary Gulley. No harm no foul. I`ll enjoy it after I`m married, and I`ll enjoy it when I`m old and gray. What is that--you can look but you better not touch? Read the menu but you got to eat at home? Look, I was never a `clean little boy`, and I thoroughly expect to become a `dirty old man` too. So consider my wandering eye to be nothing more than practice or experience for a post retirement occupation.

Anyway, I wasn`t quite so fast with getting the cash to the flight attendant as she was getting the beer to me. In fact, I did what I know all the flight attendants hate, gave her a twenty.

"I`ll be back with your change in a bit. Would you care for something to drink?" and she advanced to the row in front of us, with the bookmark of returning change to me.

I figure they have to hate that. I would if I was them. I`ve seen the beholden look on their faces as they announce that "they`ll be back in a bit with your change." Beholden in the sense that after servicing a hundred or so other passengers with free beverages, moving the cart up and down and out of the way for small bladder passengers, retrieving pillows from overhead compartments, retrieving blankets from overhead compartments, answering questions about arrival times, and if there is anything else besides nuts `cause I have that thing with nuts, and navigating it all through occasional and random acts of turbulence now the attendant has to find change and get it back to you. And oh by the way, they don`t take tips.

I washed the minor guilt I felt away with a gulp of suds and reassessed my environs. This was a smaller plane, a Boeing MD80. Nancy and I were assigned to a set of seats several rows up from where we were now on the back row, and we were suppose to be on the right side with three seats. As good fortune would have it, however, the flight wasn`t full, closer to three fourths. Upon discovering our luck, Nancy relocated us to the very back of the plane. Last row, left side, she got the window.

Taking another sip of my beer I glanced over at Nancy and wondered why she didn`t request any vodka or something. Why`d she just order Ginger Ale? Especially with how nervous I could see that she was combined with all that went on yesterday? Hell I almost felt like we were a couple of criminals today fleeing the scene of a crime. We weren`t the criminals of course, although there was a crime. Nancy and I were the accusers rather than the accused. A lot of shit went down yesterday, and I`m still scratching my head on how we got to sneak away like this.

Anyway, it made me want to have a beer, so cheers. Nancy? She doesn`t drink beer. She does like her vodka though. So why`d she just order soda? Because she has her own stash of mini bottles in her purse and so all she needed was just a fucking can of mixer, a small plastic glass with ice, and some room while she concocts her Aunt Nancy`s Special Elixir of Calm M`Quivers--80 proof. Hey, I`m guessing that somewhere along the line she saved money doing it this way, so who am I to judge?

Speaking of which, I mentioned how fast the flight attendant was at shooting me a can of brew before I had finished saying the product name? Well by the time the flight attendant`s blue polyester covered pooper produced the drink for the bald guy in front of me, Nancy had her ice cubes doused with Crown Royal in the convenient travel size bottle and was en route to adding the Ginger Ale fizzle. Impressive.

I looked at my watch. Nine a.m. Three quarters of a plane full of passengers minus two sipping soda, coffee, fruit juice or sleeping. Not us. Feeling like I`m on the lamb or taking a victory lap on a plane ride, I`ve got to tell you now, before you form the wrong opinion, I don`t usually drink this early ... except on St. Patty`s Day, and its April seventeen. Two days past tax day and a month since St. Patty`s Day, so no I`m not usually having cocktails at this hour. I`m usually not having cocktails at this hour while on a plane, with my boss, and heading to a business meeting either. Even if that were all true I`m especially not used to having drinks at this hour with my boss on my second day on the job. No shit. Did you catch that? Nancy`s my new boss and today is my second day on the job.

All that shit that went down yesterday on my first day of work, combined with how I`m drinking at the start of my second day of work, makes me wonder if this is the right place for me to work. Anyway, the HR lady gave me the `wanna come on board` question two weeks ago. By the end of that week, I was in the `Lab` taking a squirt in a cup. I continued my programming trade at BS yesterday, whereupon the frisky little vixen seated next to me and my new boss informed me that we were heading to San Diego tomorrow. That`d be today.

Two weeks ago. Yesterday. Today. Do you believe it? I just barely do, and I`m living it right now. It`s been amazing. It`s been atmospheric. And for a boss? Nancy`s the hottest little thing I`ve ever worked for. That includes all the restaurant jobs I held before I graduated college. She captured me the first time I laid eyes on her. I fell in love with her vodka burping little ass right off. First thing. Did I drop that yet? No? Oh shit.

It caught me off guard. I mean in one tick I`m interviewing for a job, and in the next, I`m flirting with who might become my boss. You hear what I`m saying? Not just me though. I flirted with her, and she flirted with me. I am so ready to slap a label of `All Time Favorite Job` on this BS gig, you know? BS, of course being the name of my new company, but I`ll get to all that later.

There are two bottom lines here: work and play. The first bottom line is that I`ve been working in the professional world for fourteen years now, and I`ve had at least a half a dozen different occupations during that time. I`ve been a laborer, fitness counselor, salesman, HR recruiter, corporate trainer, Finance Analyst, and now IT programmer. The other bottom line is that I`ve been on the dating circuit for twenty-three years or since I was fifteen. My love life is and always has been a wreck. I`ve dated all the hair colors, many of the skin colors, several nationalities, older woman, young girls, some full figured, some waifs, some buxom and some barely there. But someone I work with? Someone I work for?

Did I fall in love with my boss? Yeah. I did. I never saw it coming. I mean it wasn`t in the job posting you know? That read:

"WANTED: Programmer Analyst with BS, a company you`ll grow to love."

Not.

"WANTED: Programmer Analyst who`ll fall in love with the boss."

But that`s how I hear falling in love goes. Blind Cupid shooting an arrow and it`s suddenly spring and the birds and the bees and let me fondle these. It is April after all, you know? Anyway, that`s how it happened for me. I mixed my bottom lines of work and play together, and Cupid was on me like an aging, psychopathic Vietnam War vet. A fucking Marine no less, huh? Now do you see why I`m sipping so early in the morning? No? It`s a long flight. Just listen.


Keywords - click on word to search for more titles

  

Author Information

.

 

Publisher Information

Renaissance E Books publishes the best in classic and contemporary popular fiction and nonfiction through its PageTurner imprint, and the best in classic and contemporary erotica through its Sizzler imprint.

The Space Between The Rings (T.D. Robertson)


The Space Between The Rings by T.D. Robertson

$4.99

Add To Cart

More By This Author

    • Not yet rated. Buy this book and be the first to rate it!

Their Passion Kindled on the Job! Welcome to BS, the digital document processing giant in the Midwest, where sexually scandalous behavior between employer and employee is seemingly encouraged as if it were the normal corporate culture. Sean Landau answered BS's call for a computer programmer and was unexpectedly introduced to the company's lascivious conduct during his first interview with the sexy hiring manager, Nancy Adams. Some casual conference room flirting fans the flame of desire, and suddenly Sean finds himself in love with his new boss. But does she love him? Or is she involved with the Director? Is she just using him to help her boot the Director from her life? The Space Between the Rings is a contemporary, romantic comedy with a high level of erotic content under the canopy of sexually incorrect corporate culture.

Product type: EBook    Published by: Renaissance E Books    Published: 3 / 2007

No. words: 40000

Style: Romance -    Romance - general

Available Formats: PDF  MS Reader  


Excerpt

CHAPTER I

"Would you care for anything to drink?" The flight attendant was brunette, buxom and all business.

"Ginger Ale." Nancy was anxious. Hell, she practically spewed saliva like a lawn sprinkler from her nearly foaming mouth. Well, maybe it wasn`t that bad, but anyone watching got the idea she wanted the fucking Ginger Ale and hurry.

"Ginger Ale," the flight attendant repeated as she passed the drink past me to Nancy at the window seat. "And you?"

"What beers do you have?" I always ask this question, but I rarely give a shit. Just don`t make it light unless it`s Amstel Light. I prefer pilsners, ambers, and/or dark/stouts. I can`t stomach wheats, honeys, or any "flavorful" beers like raspberry or pumpkin or cinnamon apple or some such. And yes there probably is some idiot brewing cinnamon apple ale. Like I said, I didn`t care what beers she had, I just liked to ask.

"Bud, Budlite, Miller Lite, Miller Genuine Draft, and Heineken," the flight attendant shot that information out of her mouth like a stock ticker--boom, boom, boom, boom and Heineken. I mean she was, as I said, all work, no bullshit.

She had great tits too. I`m not always careful about how I notice a woman`s scoops. I can`t help it. I usually look and form a judgment before I even realize that I was looking. I try not to gawk, but I know I do anyway, so I forgive myself for gawking as long as I don`t drool.

Thankfully I didn`t drool at our flight attendant`s rack even though she bounced them so close to my face while she was taking my order I could have stuck my nose in her businesses. I wasn`t going to get to check the channels on the flight attendant`s knobs anyway with them buried beneath the light blue uniform shirt and dark blue sweater. Nor was her shirt opened low enough for me to get much of a cleavage shot. She slammed the door on what little I could see by covering herself with her left hand as she readied her right hand on some can of beer while she was giving me the stock options.

I was busted. She caught me. Like I said, I don`t always notice when I`m noticing.

"Heine..."

She popped and propped a can of Heineken in my hand before I could get the last of the name out of my mouth. She fired, "Four fifty please," at me like a vigilante sweeping the neighborhood streets clean of all perverts.

C`est la vie. I enjoy taking the Peeper Plunge down the Mammary Gulley. No harm no foul. I`ll enjoy it after I`m married, and I`ll enjoy it when I`m old and gray. What is that--you can look but you better not touch? Read the menu but you got to eat at home? Look, I was never a `clean little boy`, and I thoroughly expect to become a `dirty old man` too. So consider my wandering eye to be nothing more than practice or experience for a post retirement occupation.

Anyway, I wasn`t quite so fast with getting the cash to the flight attendant as she was getting the beer to me. In fact, I did what I know all the flight attendants hate, gave her a twenty.

"I`ll be back with your change in a bit. Would you care for something to drink?" and she advanced to the row in front of us, with the bookmark of returning change to me.

I figure they have to hate that. I would if I was them. I`ve seen the beholden look on their faces as they announce that "they`ll be back in a bit with your change." Beholden in the sense that after servicing a hundred or so other passengers with free beverages, moving the cart up and down and out of the way for small bladder passengers, retrieving pillows from overhead compartments, retrieving blankets from overhead compartments, answering questions about arrival times, and if there is anything else besides nuts `cause I have that thing with nuts, and navigating it all through occasional and random acts of turbulence now the attendant has to find change and get it back to you. And oh by the way, they don`t take tips.

I washed the minor guilt I felt away with a gulp of suds and reassessed my environs. This was a smaller plane, a Boeing MD80. Nancy and I were assigned to a set of seats several rows up from where we were now on the back row, and we were suppose to be on the right side with three seats. As good fortune would have it, however, the flight wasn`t full, closer to three fourths. Upon discovering our luck, Nancy relocated us to the very back of the plane. Last row, left side, she got the window.

Taking another sip of my beer I glanced over at Nancy and wondered why she didn`t request any vodka or something. Why`d she just order Ginger Ale? Especially with how nervous I could see that she was combined with all that went on yesterday? Hell I almost felt like we were a couple of criminals today fleeing the scene of a crime. We weren`t the criminals of course, although there was a crime. Nancy and I were the accusers rather than the accused. A lot of shit went down yesterday, and I`m still scratching my head on how we got to sneak away like this.

Anyway, it made me want to have a beer, so cheers. Nancy? She doesn`t drink beer. She does like her vodka though. So why`d she just order soda? Because she has her own stash of mini bottles in her purse and so all she needed was just a fucking can of mixer, a small plastic glass with ice, and some room while she concocts her Aunt Nancy`s Special Elixir of Calm M`Quivers--80 proof. Hey, I`m guessing that somewhere along the line she saved money doing it this way, so who am I to judge?

Speaking of which, I mentioned how fast the flight attendant was at shooting me a can of brew before I had finished saying the product name? Well by the time the flight attendant`s blue polyester covered pooper produced the drink for the bald guy in front of me, Nancy had her ice cubes doused with Crown Royal in the convenient travel size bottle and was en route to adding the Ginger Ale fizzle. Impressive.

I looked at my watch. Nine a.m. Three quarters of a plane full of passengers minus two sipping soda, coffee, fruit juice or sleeping. Not us. Feeling like I`m on the lamb or taking a victory lap on a plane ride, I`ve got to tell you now, before you form the wrong opinion, I don`t usually drink this early ... except on St. Patty`s Day, and its April seventeen. Two days past tax day and a month since St. Patty`s Day, so no I`m not usually having cocktails at this hour. I`m usually not having cocktails at this hour while on a plane, with my boss, and heading to a business meeting either. Even if that were all true I`m especially not used to having drinks at this hour with my boss on my second day on the job. No shit. Did you catch that? Nancy`s my new boss and today is my second day on the job.

All that shit that went down yesterday on my first day of work, combined with how I`m drinking at the start of my second day of work, makes me wonder if this is the right place for me to work. Anyway, the HR lady gave me the `wanna come on board` question two weeks ago. By the end of that week, I was in the `Lab` taking a squirt in a cup. I continued my programming trade at BS yesterday, whereupon the frisky little vixen seated next to me and my new boss informed me that we were heading to San Diego tomorrow. That`d be today.

Two weeks ago. Yesterday. Today. Do you believe it? I just barely do, and I`m living it right now. It`s been amazing. It`s been atmospheric. And for a boss? Nancy`s the hottest little thing I`ve ever worked for. That includes all the restaurant jobs I held before I graduated college. She captured me the first time I laid eyes on her. I fell in love with her vodka burping little ass right off. First thing. Did I drop that yet? No? Oh shit.

It caught me off guard. I mean in one tick I`m interviewing for a job, and in the next, I`m flirting with who might become my boss. You hear what I`m saying? Not just me though. I flirted with her, and she flirted with me. I am so ready to slap a label of `All Time Favorite Job` on this BS gig, you know? BS, of course being the name of my new company, but I`ll get to all that later.

There are two bottom lines here: work and play. The first bottom line is that I`ve been working in the professional world for fourteen years now, and I`ve had at least a half a dozen different occupations during that time. I`ve been a laborer, fitness counselor, salesman, HR recruiter, corporate trainer, Finance Analyst, and now IT programmer. The other bottom line is that I`ve been on the dating circuit for twenty-three years or since I was fifteen. My love life is and always has been a wreck. I`ve dated all the hair colors, many of the skin colors, several nationalities, older woman, young girls, some full figured, some waifs, some buxom and some barely there. But someone I work with? Someone I work for?

Did I fall in love with my boss? Yeah. I did. I never saw it coming. I mean it wasn`t in the job posting you know? That read:

"WANTED: Programmer Analyst with BS, a company you`ll grow to love."

Not.

"WANTED: Programmer Analyst who`ll fall in love with the boss."

But that`s how I hear falling in love goes. Blind Cupid shooting an arrow and it`s suddenly spring and the birds and the bees and let me fondle these. It is April after all, you know? Anyway, that`s how it happened for me. I mixed my bottom lines of work and play together, and Cupid was on me like an aging, psychopathic Vietnam War vet. A fucking Marine no less, huh? Now do you see why I`m sipping so early in the morning? No? It`s a long flight. Just listen.


Keywords - click on word to search for more titles

    

Author Information

.

 

Publisher Information

Renaissance E Books publishes the best in classic and contemporary popular fiction and nonfiction through its PageTurner imprint, and the best in classic and contemporary erotica through its Sizzler imprint.


Contact Us    Terms and Conditions    Privacy Policy    Refund Policy

Authors write for us    Publishers and self-publishers sell with us

This Site Owned By Fiction4All - Copyright © 2016


Contact Us    Terms and Conditions    Privacy Policy
Refund Policy

Authors write for us    Publishers and self-publishers sell with us

This Site Owned By Fiction4All - Copyright © 2016


Contact

contact right arrow

Terms and Conditions

tos right arrow

Privacy Policy

privacy right arrow

Refund Policy

refund right arrow

Authors write for us

authors right arrow

Publishers and self-publishers

publishers right arrow

This Site Owned By Fiction4All - Copyright © 2015