🤍 ~ Alluring Eleanor

Under the Table

    You arrived at work shortly before 10 am, the office already humming with activity. With your mind still occupied by the events of the previous night, you couldn't wait to talk to Dakota about Eleanor.

As you dropped your things at your desk, Dakota approached with a noticeable spark of curiosity in her eyes. "Did you come in with Eleanor?" she asked, her tone almost conspiratorial.

"Yeah, I did," you replied, a smile forming as you remembered yesterday evening.

Dakota's eyes widened. "Oh my gosh, she was with you this morning too, wasn't she?"

You nodded, a hint of excitement in your voice. "I really had an amazing time with her. It felt special. I'm not entirely sure what it means yet, but there's definitely something more here."

Dakota's expression grew thoughtful. "So, is she your girlfriend now?"

You hesitated, reflecting on the night's events. "I'm not sure yet. It definitely didn't feel casual, though."

Your boss's call for the meeting interrupted your conversation. You and Dakota walked into the meeting room, where Eleanor was already seated at the far end of the table. You slid into the chair next to her, feeling the tension of the day momentarily ease.

Eleanor turned to you with a playful grin. "I swear these meetings get more and more tedious," she said, her voice a light, comforting contrast to the usual monotony.

You laughed, feeling a genuine connection. "Tell me about it."

As your boss began speaking, you tried to stay focused on the meeting agenda, but your attention kept drifting. Eleanor's presence was intoxicating, her proximity a constant reminder of last night's intimacy.

Halfway through the meeting, as your boss droned on, you felt a gentle, almost electric touch on your hand. Eleanor's fingers brushed against yours beneath the table, sending a shiver up your arm. The contact was brief but deliberate, a quiet promise of the connection you shared.

Your heart skipped a beat as Eleanor's fingers entwined with yours, her touch warm and reassuring. You turned to her, trying to maintain a casual demeanor, but the intensity of her gaze made it difficult to focus on anything other than the sensation of her hand in yours.

The meeting room seemed to shrink as you both fell into a private world. Eleanor's hand subtly squeezed yours, and you responded with a gentle, almost imperceptible squeeze of your own. The contact was a silent exchange, a communication of feelings that words could scarcely capture.

You caught Eleanor's eye, and a mischievous smile played on her lips. She shifted slightly, her leg brushing against yours under the table. The innocent touch felt charged with unspoken electricity. Her eyes, filled with a playful glint, met yours, and the shared glance evoked a private joke only the two of you understood.

As the meeting continued, Eleanor's fingers danced lightly over the back of your hand, tracing gentle patterns that sent waves of warmth through you. Each delicate touch seemed to speak of promises and possibilities, of nights spent wrapped in each other's arms and whispered secrets.

You tried to maintain your focus on the meeting, but the constant, tender caress of Eleanor's fingers made it nearly impossible. The rhythmic brushing of her hand against yours was both soothing and exhilarating, a reminder of the emotional and physical connection you shared.

In a bold move, Eleanor shifted her hand to rest on top of yours, her fingers splayed out to intertwine with yours fully. The contact was firm yet gentle, a silent declaration of closeness in a room filled with distractions. You could feel her warmth through the thin barrier of the table, and it was as if her touch was meant to anchor you in the midst of the meeting's dull routine. You glanced at her once again, and her smile was both teasing and tender, a clear signal that she was enjoying the moment as much as you were.

As the meeting dragged on, you found yourself lost in the sensory details of Eleanor's touch—the softness of her skin, the warmth radiating from her fingers, and the gentle pressure of her hand against yours. It was as if the rest of the world had faded away, leaving only the two of you and the shared intimacy beneath the table.

The meeting finally came to a close, and the room buzzed with the usual sounds of colleagues preparing to leave. Eleanor reluctantly released your hand, though her fingers lingered on yours for a moment longer than necessary. Her eyes locked with yours, filled with a mixture of satisfaction and anticipation.

As you gathered your things and stood up, Eleanor leaned in slightly, her voice barely above a whisper. "Let's talk later?"

You nodded, feeling a mix of eagerness and contentment. "Definitely."

The meeting room was slowly emptying, but the memory of Eleanor's touch lingered, a sweet reminder of the connection you both shared. You left the room, your heart still racing, eager for the next moment you could spend in her company.