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“Well, Vadim Sergeevich,” Elena Nikolaevna, looked intently at the monitor, which did not prevent her from answering our boss.
Between themselves, in the bureau, we called Elena Nikolaevna just like Lenochka.

And in general, she was among us, the men of the bureau, was the only representative of the fair sex, and we cared for her, everyone as he could, by virtue of his education and love for the weaker sex.
I – in general, showed the most attention, despite the fact that I was married for two years by the time she came to work with us.
It seemed to me that she liked my wooing, but no more than ordinary signs of politeness on the part of a man.
She did not give a reason to make sure of warmer feelings towards me.
She was not tall, lower than me, about one hundred and sixty centimeters, at a time when I was one hundred and seventy-two.
Dark blond hair, brown eyes, a bit hunched nose and a minimum of makeup.
Sometimes she came completely without him.
And her natural beauty attracted attention.
In addition, she was thin, but not lifeless, like many thin people.
Yes, she had a second breast size, but her butt stood out significantly under the dresses in which she always went to work every day.
She did not like heels, and preferred to them sandals on a flat sole, in which her leg looked even more seductive.
She was different from those girls that I liked before.
I have always loved plump, with a tum, and the size of the boobs is not less than a fourth.
But as soon as Helen came to our bureau, I wanted her.
I could not understand why she attracted me so much, but every day when she came in the door, I could hardly even get close to the tea table – my erection was so strong.

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I was a little disappointed when I found out in fleeting conversations that she didn’t like men like me: with neat, but constant bristles of medium length, with a hairy body (although I wasn’t as hairy as the representatives of the hot south).
And in general, she liked tall young people more than middle-aged ones.
It turned out that the case was driving us alone, but, as it seemed to me, nothing shone for me – Helen was very passionate about her work.
But when it came to integrating the nodes that we designed separately, Helen asked me to come up.
I got up from the table, sat down on a stool beside her.
Talking and discussing technical issues, I did not notice how mechanically I put my hand on the back of her chair.
Continuing gestures, I touched her body, right next to her chest.
We both stopped, feeling the awkwardness of the situation.
But her final reaction to my unconscious gesture surprised me, and instead of removing her hand from her hand with her hand, she gently said: “Sergei, take it away.”
I removed my hand.
But it seemed to me that she did not look displeased.
My heart was pounding.
I tried to come up with something that would allow me to touch her again, but also by chance, and at the same time more dissolute.
I felt like some kind of schoolboy.
Such a case presented itself.
After I tried to show something on the screen by lowering my hand, I hit her leg.
And then he removed, issuing deliberately: – Oh, I’m sorry, Len.
In fact, after this touch to her young, tender, velvety skin, I could barely restrain myself.
All I wanted right now was to take off her dress and take it right on this table.
I resisted.
I noticed that Helen blushed a little.
Maybe she liked it too? In the end, when we finished the discussion, and sat down at my desk, I could not work any more – my thoughts were about something else.
I offered to make tea, since we are obviously hungry.
Elena Nikolaevna agreed, and, coming out from behind her desk, sat down on one of the free chairs.
I took our mugs and filled them with fragrant drink.
A crazy thought flashed through my head.
In the room we had a radio.
After I handed Lena her glass, I turned it on.
A quiet instrumental melody filled the cabinet.
I sat down close to Elena (the chairs stood one to one), I handed her my glass with the desire to clink, and said: “Well, what about the gas reactor?” Perceiving my toast

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as a joke, she answered: “Yes! For him! We drank.
The receiver changed the melody to the song “Lesopoval” “I’ll buy you a house.”
I suggested: – And, maybe, let’s dance? Camdolls sex.

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