That Dress

Jack's fantasy

Jack walked into his house, panting, and shut the door behind him. Removing his trainers in the hallway, he quickly made his way to the kitchen and pulled his ear buds out, discarding them on the counter. He had done a ten kilometre run in the late afternoon blazing summer sunshine, in a vain attempt to distract himself from the thought of Nikki in that dress.

Leaning forwards towards the counter top, he gripped the edge while he caught his breath. Nikki had looked amazing today. She had sauntered into the office holding an iced coffee, sunglasses on, her hair pinned up in braids. Her bag was slung over one shoulder and she wore a dress that had a split so far up one side, that every time she took a stride, she flashed her leg, all the way up to her hip.

Jack had tried to concentrate on his research, outstanding paperwork, filing expenses... anything to try and stop himself from obsessively watching Nikki as she moved around the office.

He was chastising himself for being a terrible friend. Friends don't obsess over each other. They don't stare at their legs while they aren't looking. And they certainly don't think of them while they masturbated, like Jack did regularly. He sighed and shook his head at himself.

Grabbing a bottle of water out of the fridge, he chugged half of it and wiped his brow.

He had made an excuse to Nikki earlier that afternoon, saying he needed to finish his paperwork at home, muttering something about needing to be in for a delivery. In actual fact, he just didn't think he could continue putting up the pretence of not being completely and utterly besotted with his best friend.

There was that word again. 'Friend'.

She had stalked over to where he was sitting, mid-afternoon and perched herself on the edge of the desk, next to his open files. Crossing them, she had exposed her toned legs, the indentation of her thigh muscle distinct on her tanned skin. He had found himself glancing at her thigh repeatedly, despite silently commanding himself to focus on what she was saying. Her perfume had invaded his senses, fogging his brain with thoughts of burying his head in her hair. He had stammered over his responses to her questions, was distracted during her suggested theories, and unable to form any kind of coherent summation of the forensic evidence he had gathered for their latest case.

His mind kept wandering to him pulling her off the desk into his lap, kissing her smart mouth as he ran his hands up her thigh, telling her between kisses how much he loved her. Wanted her. Needed her. It was quite unlike him. He tried to pass it off as some summer sun related temporary insanity. Some type of fever dream, of sorts.

The day had been boiling. It was fine in the air-conditioned office, but once he was outside, the August heat had been stifling. It had been like this for days. The air was thick with London pollution, and the heat radiated endlessly from the concrete buildings. The underground was filled with the pungent smells of the unwashed, and the roads were afflicted with heavy traffic of people trying to escape the city for the weekend, meaning most of the routes out of London were gridlocked.

Jack looked around his kitchen diner. He still had piles of unpacked boxes from moving in. There was so much work to do, but the weather didn't motivate him to get any of it done. He had pulled out the essentials only from the boxes in each room.

The re-wiring and re-plumbing had been done, and the en-suite redesigned and decorated for his father's room, if he would just accept the invitation to move in. The main bathroom was nearly done, just needed painting, and his own en-suite was just a blank shell with pipe work capped off.

It wasn't a home. It felt so empty, rattling around in it by himself. Except for the odd date or one night stand he brought back to fill the void in his life where Nikki should be.