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***This might be of interest: For readers of my other stories, His Sister’s Tutor and Choice Matters, this actually can be considered kind of a precursor to them which I had written many, many years before. I had lost the floppy disk this was stored on and by some elaborate circumstance, I stumbled upon it again recently. It might be hard to see but there are some “fingerprints” with plot points and characters. I edited it and fixed it up a bit, but it still is representative of my earlier works and youthful notions and interests. If anything, by submitting it to Literotica it’ll at least be preserved should I lose the floppy again! Thank you always in advance for taking the time to read and comment.***
Clara Pembroke was an alluring and elusive beauty. The description suited her. She had caught the eye of many men but not because she was “sexy” or a “striking beauty”. She was pretty, very pretty, but it was more like something about her nature that seemed to draw the attention of men. And that was the problem: often the guys weren’t quite sure what it was about her that got them turning their heads and walking in circles to see her. That made things difficult because how do you claim something that causes you more confusion than clarity?
At any moment she could various combinations of so many qualities: kind, spiritual, attentive, serious, smart, funny, coy, prim, playful, on and on. And what beauty that laid within her emanated ten-fold to her outer attractiveness.
A simple beauty, make up or no, Clara’s natural physical qualities were never hidden. She had wide hazel eyes which could unnerve people as they seemingly peered into their minds, giving each person she spoke to her full undivided attention. It was impossible to pull away from them. Her eyes were the centerpiece of a genuinely caring face framed by flowing dark honey locks that at one moment could be hanging down past her shoulders, and the next curled up properly in a neat bun behind her head, only wispy strands that casually dangled down to her neck saving her from looking at all matronly. She always wore simple yet demure clothes, nothing that could be described as revealing or sexy. But if you asked some, Clara could make a full length summer dress sway and flow as seductively as a lace nighty.
Alluring and elusive. Those qualities had been her shield whether deliberate or not. Many men who had first caught a glimpse of her would often walk by with barely a slight glance, but after a few steps, they would turn around and take a second, longer, almost curious look. Within moments after that, for some reason, their hearts were beating a little faster, their palms a little warmer. It wouldn’t be long before more and more of their time and attention would be dedicated to this young woman.
But somehow in her 24 years on earth, Clara managed to elude all of the advances of the opposite sex, and not necessarily deliberately. It was more like her suitors would self-destruct, their minds and libidos in turmoil as they struggled to decide if they wanted to protect this precious angel or pluck the feathers from her wings. Clara ended up with more men who she treated like her “older brother” or male “buddies” than she knew what to do with.
So it was that Clara, the object of many thoughts of love and lust, and the subject of much confusion and frustration, could side-step the awkward moments with various suitors. It meant that she was never in a steady relationship but then again, she never had much time to dedicate to a lasting relationship and she would never “sleep around”. That was the way she was raised. That’s what she believed. And once men came up against her beliefs, that shield easily deflected their come ons no matter how aggressive they were. Then again, maybe she just never met anyone she felt strong enough for to even those defences slide even a little. The person who could get his foot into that door may find opportunities with her even she couldn’t dare imagine.
She was an angel waiting to be stolen from Heaven.
Clara walked down the cement corridor of aisle D in the warehouse. It was lunch time so the usually noisy building was nearly empty and silent. She looked up at the tall shelves holding stacks of boxes which contained hundreds of books. Christian books. They were the books her company distributed to specialty stores and churches around the country. Before she had started working in the front office, she had never figured Christian books to be such a big business. But after only working three months in the sales department, she knew the staff members at the thriving company were already being hard pressed to keep up with the demand.
Clara checked her clipboard and walked further down the corridor. She stopped at holding bay 56 and examined the numbers on the boxes. They were different than the ones she had on her clipboard. She shook her head. She looked around a bit then proceeded down aisle D, turned the corner then walked back Şirinevler escort up aisle C, glancing at all the bays and boxes.
Like a mouse in a maze, her actions weren’t going unnoticed.
“Hey, what’s she up to?” Josh nodded towards the young woman wandering the warehouse aisles before taking a bite out of his sandwich.
“Looks like she’s checking inventory. Doesn’t seem to be having much luck, huh?” Damon said as he drank his coffee.
“Well, those admin honchos aren’t supposed to be walking around in this area. This is our turf,” Josh said, his mouth full of tuna.
“She’s not a ‘honcho’, she’s just a sales assistant,” Damon said pointedly, dismissing his partner’s blue-collar tactlessness, “Clara’s fine. She’s cool.”
The two of them were sitting on the stairs that led to the viewing office in the upper level of the warehouse. Actually Damon had noticed her when she had first come in. Josh was too busy rummaging through his lunch bag. Damon had become accustomed to spotting Clara wherever she was in the company’s complex.
For a month after she was briskly introduced to the ‘family’ of employees at the company, Damon paid her no more attention than any of the other office staff. Aside from daily hellos, they had spoken only for a few brief moments.
One time Clara came up to him with a playful grin on her face. She held up a book, “Final Truths: Beyond Earthly Fulfillment”. Damon blinked and frowned.
“Look,” she had said with a gentle smile, “Open it up.”
Damon sighed and took the book from her. He flipped through the pages quickly. Then he paused and said, “Waitaminute. All the pages are blank.”
“I know! The entire shipment is that way!” she said and laughed gleefully, “How’s that for “fulfilment”?!”
Despite himself, Damon looked at her and chuckled. He caught a glimpse of just how warm and pretty this girl was, the beauty of her face. As she whisked away to the next person to show off her little joke, he watched her. He admired how her slender body gracefully moved away from him, the way her skirt swayed gently as she moved, and her scent that trailed after her would from that point on become a familiar one to him.
A couple of days later, he heard some of the guys in the warehouse playing up their bravado and discussing which of the office girls they wouldn’t mind taking a crack at. Somebody mentioned Clara.
Damon chimed in, “Clara? Nah. She’s a nice kid. I don’t think she’s like that. She’s like an angel.”
“Hey! I’d like to clip some of her feathers!” somebody snorted and they all laughed luridly. More jokes about “taking her to heaven and back” and “showing her the light” followed.
Damon laughed with them. However, the thought of the other guys in the company making a play for her really got him thinking. Now his mind had begun to wander, and at every turn there was Clara.
Damon finished his coffee and placed the cup on the step beside Josh. “Well,” he said as he stood up and stretched, “May as well see what she wants.”
Clara had just made her way to the end of the aisle C still looking at the clipboard. As she turned the corner, she walked into Damon.
“Oh!” she yelped, dropping her clipboard which hit the floor with a rattle.
“Whoops! Watch it there!” Damon put his hands up to buffer her when she bumped into him, “You okay, Clara?”
Clara gasped as she caught her breath. She put a hand on her chest and steadied it, “Damon! You startled me!”
“No kidding?” Damon looked around with a goofy smile, “Is it my brilliant smile?”
She laughed and waved her hand at him, almost brushing his chest before she pulled back. Damon noted her motion with a curious tilt of his head.
“Yes, I was so blinded I nearly fell over,” she said jokingly.
“Sorry. I’m sorry,” he said, “Just came down to see if you needed some help. Oh, and I would never have let you fall, by the way.”
Clara paused to smile at his kind words. Her white teeth stretching her lips wide, and her eyes squinting as some colour formed in her cheeks. Damon realized how attractive she looked even with so little make up.
“I was just checking for something,” she said as she looked down for her clipboard. Some forms had scattered from it around the floor. She bent down to pick them up.
Damon squatted down and picked up a couple of papers at his feet. He stayed in the position, his hands resting on his knees as he watched her pick up the other sheets in front of him. She was stooped over. Her white, lace-lined crew neck top hung lazily down from her neck. Considering how protective he had been of her amongst the other warehouse guys in the past, he felt only a subconscious level of concern as he took the opportunity to peer down the gaping neck of her shirt, along her chest, to the top of her bosom nestled softly in her delicately patterned bra.
When she looked up he handed her the papers he had gathered.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“No Ataköy escort problem,” he replied as he stood up. He took her by the hand and elbow and helped her up, “Watch yourself.”
Again, Clara flashed a silent smile. Once standing she noticed that he hadn’t let go of her hand. She pulled it away and rubbed her wrist awkwardly.
Damon tilted his head and squinted.
She saw the questioning expression on his face, “Oh. My wrist gets stiff sometimes. We’re in the computer age after all. All that typing.”
Damon reached out and took her hand. He gently stroked it once, “Maybe you just need a good massage.” He smiled.
Clara watched him do this for a second, an uneasy swelling in her gut. Then she firmly pulled her hand away. Damon’s smile quickly faded. He had moved too fast.
Again she spoke softly, “But really, it only hurts once in awhile if I’m doing something with it for too long.”
“Well, that’s good. Don’t work it too hard then,” Damon said with genuine concern. Switching gears he asked, “So Clara, what brings you to the dungeon?”
Her attention quickly shifted back to the clipboard. She spoke matter-of-factly, “Well, if you could help…I had received a call from the North distribution center saying they were expecting a delivery yesterday. Our order records confirm that but I can’t find the shipping invoice. Their order was supposed to be in bay 56 but I checked the numbers on the boxes there and they don’t match.”
Damon rocked on his feet, his hands in the pockets of his sweatshirt. “Ah well, Miss Pembroke,” he said noting how she smiled and rolled her eyes at his formality, “You see the numbers don’t match because they’re not the same boxes.”
Clara crossed her arms and raised a coy eyebrow, “Ri-ight?”
“Beca-auuse the North shipment went out only this morning. We had a problem with the trucks yesterday and the delay backed us up. The North went out first thing this morning. They should be getting it right about….now! Bay 56 is now holding for the Southeast order,” he finished up with a wave of his hands and, “Ta-dah!”
Clearly she appreciated his animated explanation and broke down her only marginally professional demeanour. “Ah well,” she said nodding deliberately, “That would explain it. Thank you Mr.Garcia.”
She snapped off a mocking salute.
“Not at all. I’m good aren’t I?” he winked.
Clara slapped him in the arm with her clipboard and said in her most officially polite tone, “But next time we would very much appreciate it if you people in stocks would inform us of your adjustments in the shipping schedule. It would save us so much time and energy and I wouldn’t have to go wandering in your…’dungeon’ was it?”
Damon curled up and backed away like a disobedient pup and spoke like a yokel, “Okay, lady! Okay! Please! Please, don’t hurt me!”
Again she rolled her eyes.
“I got me a wife,” he moaned on, “I’ve got kids, Rico and Sally….and-and a dog, Damon Jr. Please! Think of the kids!!!”
Clara clicked her tongue then laughed as she swatted him with the clipboard again.
Damon reached out to push her away gently. As he moved her back, he suddenly realized his hand wasn’t on her shoulder. As he pushed, his felt the tender give of her soft breast beneath his fingers. In that brief moment, he had the urge to squeeze the finely shaped flesh in his palm.
Clara stepped back. The suddenly calm expression on her face gave little evidence to Damon as to whether she had noticed his unintentional touch, or if she had, what she was thinking. She cleared her throat, brushing a strand of hair around the back of her ear, and said, “Well, thanks for your help, Damon. I guess I should get back to the office.”
He nodded, smiling crookedly, curiously, and watched her as she walked past him. She pivoted around and walked backwards, smiling and waving back at him. Then she continued to saunter towards the exit with light steps.
Damon stood there, staring at her as she floated away towards the exit.
He thought about how, for months, after he had figured out that she was going to be in his head everyday, he had played out in his mind just what he wanted from her. Various ideas of finally finding someone he might want to build a long lasting relationship with mingled with thoughts of carnal desires, of primal urges. It was this part of himself he always found so difficult to deny. Now the blood surged in him as he held tight to the feeling of her breast in his hand. He wanted it there again and he wanted to explore more of her fine, supple body. Sooner, not later.
Clara turned just before she reached the door as she heard the slamming of heavy footsteps behind her. Damon ran up to her.
She faced him, holding her clipboard down between her hands. He slowed to a stop and drew a deep breath.
“Look Clara,” he said, “I was wondering if you would like to go out sometime.”
“Oh, uh,” she said hesitantly while looking Bakırköy escort at him. Her eyes shifted past him.
“Friday. This Friday,” he gave her a firm date.
“Uh…,” she paused for a long moment, blinking as she thought. “Okay. That would be nice.”
“Well, great,” Damon said trying to sound excited but he found the expression on her face to be more of concern than enthusiasm, “I’ll pick you up at your place after work? Maybe we could go for dinner, a movie?”
“Sure. That would be fine. Okay.”
“Okay?” Damon repeated still troubled by her muted response.
“Alright. Bye,” Clara said quickly then exited.
Again Damon found himself just standing and staring, this time watching the door slowly close. It was his turn to notice footsteps coming up from behind him. He turned and looked at Josh.
“So,” Josh started, putting his hand on Damon’s shoulder, “Got yourself a date with the nun?”
Damon walked away from him, letting Josh’s hand slide off, “She’s not Catholic, Josh. And she’s nothing like a nun.”
“Oh I know! I’m kidding!” Josh smirked, “Never met a nun that made me want to go to a washroom stall for some private time.”
The two went up the stairs. “So what’s on the agenda, then?” Josh continued, “Go out for dinner? A show? Clubs?”
As Damon opened the door to the office, he said in a low, barely audible voice, “I’m going to see if I can blow out a candle.”
Clara walked the office halls slowly, her gaze fixed on the fading green carpet before her. She was in a familiar moment: A guy asking her out of the blue to go out on a date with him and she accepting the invitation, more out of politeness that actual interest. But it wasn’t that she was totally uninterested in Damon. If she didn’t want to go she would have said so no problem. Damon seemed like a nice guy whom she felt comfortable talking to and acting playful with. That was enough for her to accept his invitation.
Physically, he was attractive with wavy black hair that fell to his neck and wide dark eyes. He liked to keep himself clean cut, his skin smooth and toned. He was what the other women in the office described as their “Spicey Spaniard”. Clara didn’t go for things like that, though.
If she searched her mind and heart deeper, however, she knew there was something a little bit more to him that stirred her curiousity. Damon was a person of serious intent and determined conviction. She recalled the day they had break together at the picnic table in the small patch of grass in the company’s parking lot. She had mentioned that she was considering taking some extra credit business courses at night school.
“Maybe I can just enrol then go to a couple of the classes,” she had thought aloud, “Then if I don’t like it, I can always drop out.”
Damon responded without hesitation, “No. I don’t agree with that.”
She looked at him as he shook his head side to side. He continued, “You either do it and do it all the way or you don’t.”
Clara smiled, “You seem pretty sure of yourself. Don’t you believe in trying out different things?”
“It’s not like you’re picking an ice cream flavour,” he insisted, “This is something important.”
“School is important to you?” She cringed as she spoke, realizing she may have sounded condescending.
He fixed a cool gaze upon her. It rattled her a bit and her chin lowered slightly. He said, “I know that it’s important to YOU.”
It was true. She had told him many times that she was proud of her education. Maybe she didn’t think he was actually listening to her all those times. She nodded thoughtfully.
She nudged him playfully, “So are you always this certain about things?”
“When I’m sure about something,” he said grinning, “I’m totally committed to it.”
Clara’s heart missed a beat as he said that. She always told herself that she should feel the same way about things. To see someone else so intensely dedicated to that idea as well was inspiring. For that someone to be Damon, she found him particularly intriguing. That determination on his face definitely churned something deep within her.
Clara wondered how sure he was of her?
She shook her head. No. This would be a casual, friendly get together. If it’s a first step in a long lasting relationship, then fine. More likely, as she had become accustomed to with many of her dates, she would be able to salvage this as a friendship.
Clara lifted her head, more assured in thought, and walked to her office. Damon was harmless, she thought to herself.
When Friday evening came around, the plans had changed. Clara had told Damon she would just meet him at the restaurant rather than him picking her up from her place. This bothered him slightly only because he felt he would get a better foothold on the evening if he were to see her at her place, maybe even bring some flowers. As it was he sat at the table waiting for her trying not to look too conspicuous. She had also picked the restaurant. A bright, busy family type of place, with kids running betwen the tables. Again, not exactly to his liking. He had taken off his coat but even in a simple black Henley sweater, he felt out of place. It was far too casual for the type of evening he had been anticipating.
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