Yesterday, I was wandering around the house looking for Nils. We had planned an outing, but he had received a phone call and then just disappeared. I found him in his office, bent over his beautiful antique desk. It had lots of curlicues on the legs and brass fittings on the drawers. He, however, did not look like he was admiring the desk. He had a pencil in one hand, his other cradling his head as he looked over some paperwork.

“There you are,” I cried. I came into his office and stood right behind him. “I thought we were going to...”

“I’m sorry,” said Nils and I believed him. His voice sounded very weary. “I’ve just got to get this deskwork finished up. I know it’s last-minute, but if I don’t get it done...”

“I’m sorry too,” I said. “Is there anything I can do? Can I get you anything?”

“No,” he said, “but thanks for offering. Oh, and thanks for dusting the desk. That was very nice of you.”

“Oh, it was my pleasure.” I reached out and laid my hand on his shoulder and squeezed it gently. It was very hard and stiff. “Honey,” I said, “you’re awfully stiff. Is everything OK?”

“I’m OK,” Nils said. He can be very insistent when he’s in denial. “I’m just a little angry we weren’t able to...”

I put both hands on his shoulders and started squeezing then releasing the muscles there. “Maybe if I rub your shoulders,” I said as I continued kneading his shoulders and moving on up to his neck. I even rubbed my fingers in his very full head of hair. I love getting my scalp massaged; it really relaxes me. It should work on Nils.

“Mmmm,” he sighed. “That feels soo good. I’ll give you an hour to stop doing that.” He chuckled.

“Yeah, you’ve just got to relax.” I applied more pressure to his shoulders and neck. I lightly ran my fingers through his hair. His head started to loll back on his shoulders.

“Naomi, you’re so nice to me,” he murmured.

“I know,” I whispered, my lips close to his ear. “I love being nice to you.” I straightened up and said in a normal voice: “But I can tell you’re still all tensed up. I know what might help!”

“A shot of whiskey?”

“Ha. Very funny!” I laughed. “I have a much better idea. Scootch back a bit.”

Nils slid his chair back about two feet and I stepped around and knelt at his feet.

“Hmmm. I think I see what the problem is,” I said, sliding my hands along the front of his jeans. Yeah, no doubt about it: Nils problem was right in front of me!

“What? What is the problem?” he asked. “Can you fix it?”

“Well, you’re all stiff down here, too,” I said, and I started working on his belt. “Maybe if I unzipped you, it might relieve some of the pressure.”

“I don’t think,” Nils started to say, but I already had his belt undone, and went to work on the button and the zipper. I got the pants unzipped and his cock sprang free, bobbing right there in front of me.