Lunch with M

Met with M for lunch yesterday. He'd been desperate for us to have an evening together this week but it was the wrong time for me so I told him he'd have to make do with lunch.

We chatted more about work and all the changes happening more than anything else. But he kept commenting on my boots . . . I'd coincidentally worn the boots that he really likes (it wasn't an intentional thing, I wear them to work quite regularly). He kept saying how aroused he was as we talked on, and how he was becoming more and more aroused . . . eventually reaching across and stroking my hand and suggesting we take the rest of the afternoon off and find a room somewhere.

It was very flattering and quite funny (though he was deadly serious), but I told him it was just totally impractical and impossible. He pleaded that I see him next week then "for a sleep-over", but I've already arranged to visit S . . . it's half-term and his wife takes his children away for two days to stay with her parents. We haven't seen each other for quite some time and I'm quite looking forward to it actually.

Of course, I can't tell M the reason I can't see him next week but I finished our lunch with the promise that I'd see what I could arrange for the following week.