I glance away from my computer and, fucking hell, you are there, bent over at the waist, picking up some folders you ‘accidentally’ dropped, your luscious ass framed in my doorway like some delicious candy hovering in space, the skirt not really concealing the sexy expanse of flesh and WHAM there’s my cock again. The voice on the phone is asking if I’m still there and I stammer that there’s something wrong and I need to call back. You manage to finish gathering the spilled minutia of our working days, and stand up slowly. Are you pushing your chest out a bit? I bet you are, you tease. You know exactly where my gaze is, until you turn to face me. Oh hi, you say, pretending to just realize whose office you were putting on your little show for. I was told you have the key to the supply room. Why yes I do, as a matter of fact. Why do you ask? Oh, I need a few things for people on my floor, you reply airily, as if we don’t both know exactly what you’re asking for. Could you help me get in. Good manners and upbringing obviously. Once inside their eyes locked on each other and he studied her for a number of moments, concentrating but wordless. Ordinarily this would be cause for some degree of nervousness or awkwardness, especially with someone she barely knew, yet there was none of that here. Comfortable in the moment she stared back into his own eyes, studying them intently. She allowed her eyes to then caress his body, as he did likewise with her. His eyes settled on her cleavage and she could see his baby blues glowing with sensual intention and lust. She noticed a flush coming over his neck and cheeks, and with that acknowledgement, discovered her own, as she felt a tremble once again and a urgent desire to feel his touch, but this time to her bare flesh. As if he were reading her mind his hand found her arm and she quickly covered it with her own hand, confirming her acceptance and allowance of this forward approach to continue. His hand was warm, reassuring, light.
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