The Right Programming Language - Sex Stories

The Right Programming Language

I stare at the commit message:Reverted Jane's changes.

Done by Mark, timestamped from the evening before.

Mark has done some things that drive me crazy, but this takes the cake.

I see him across the office, standing around laughing with some people, so I leave my desk and interrupt the conversation, “Hey Mark, could I talk to you for a sec?”

He responds with an offhand, “Sure.”

I try to rein in my anger as I lead the way out of the main office into the small, closet-sized office room down the hall that is sometimes used for one-on-ones. I close the door behind us, look at him, and try to nicely ask why he deleted my code the night before.

I can barely hear him, I am so upset. And the reason is just not good enough.

So I launch into a tirade, finally releasing all of my pent-up frustrations.

We end up closer together, glaring at one another.

Then, I see him glance at my lips.

My stomach drops to the floor and I back up, feeling confused and suddenly noticing how green his eyes are, staring at me. I stumble over my words, thank him for talking with me, and back out of the room.

I don’t talk to him the rest of the day.

That night, I have a dream. For some reason, there is a game where Mark has to kiss everyone on the cheek.

When he gets to me, he puts his lips just at the corner of my mouth. Without thought, I open my own lips slightly and move them against his skin, turning the peck into a lingering movement and not pulling away. He ...

... doesn't pull away either; he turns his head, just a little, to meet my mouth fully. He very gently kisses me back, his mouth opening as well, and when the wetness of his tongue touches mine, the sensation is intense and almost overbearing. Our movements are still slow. The kiss lasts maybe fifteen seconds, but people notice and look off in the other direction, not saying anything.

Somehow, I squeeze my hand between us, out of view of everyone, and briefly run my hand over his pants. He is hard. When we do pull apart, we both stare at each other for a few seconds, and I see his cheeks are flushed and he is breathing heavily.

Then I wake up.

I'm so turned on, I can't think of anything to do but grab my vibrator. I come within two minutes, my mind filled with green eyes and glistening lips.

When I go to work, I can't look at Mark. I avoid him and respond to conversation demurely and without argument.

This lasts several days.

Then he is the one to ask to speak to me, and we end up back in the same tiny room. I can't bring my eyes to his face, so I stare at the floor.

"What the hell, Jane?” he starts off.

I don't respond. My mind races and my mouth refuses to form words.

He continues, “Where did you go? Don't do that. Wake up and.. and, go back to the way you were. Are you sick? What's wrong with you? Where's the incredible developer that yells at me to fix my array methods?"

At the words “incredible developer,” I can't help but peer up at his face, ...