He met her on the concrete stairs in the building. Dark.
There were lights but they never seemed to work or they would flicker in
that last gasp of fluorescent life. The
concrete was cool and the halls smelled moldy.
Her scent was bright, fresh, slightly citrus. The contrast was intense. The two of them, well-dressed, clean,
fresh. The building old and worn and
tired. A low-rent office space for 3rd-rate
businesses finds two professionals – young, hungry, desperate for a touch. Her heels cost two months of his office
rent. Her deep brown eyes lingered on
his body…taking all of him in. The
slight, well-defined frame of his body … not large, not excessive…but
commanding attention and respect. Her
tiny hands deftly unbuckle his belt…slip beneath the wool of his suit, the
cotton of his best-of-both-worlds boxer briefs.
Firm, searing hot, of decent proportion.
His lips meet hers and the two of them nearly lift-off,
explode. Neither really likes to be
touched. While appearing appropriate and
kind, they’re not truly friendly. And
yet, in these moments, they can’t help but devour each other. Immerse in one another’s scent, touch,
taste. It’s as if they save every
sensual need for these 10 or 15 minutes of sweet escape.
Her skirt is navy, light blue button-down, hair curled and
cascading about her shoulders… she’s a hummingbird… dainty, delicate, tan. In
4-inch heels she’s still looking up at him.
Her energy is what he noticed.
And the way she looked amazing at 7:30 AM – perfect, everything in
place…and yet, still just as perfect at 6 or 7 PM when their days as co-workers
would end. This was before now…before they
had realized their mutual need for each other.
She stepped out of her skirt, turned to the rail. He nearly climbed her, his need so
desperate. Bodies now joined, pure
bliss. The feel of him inside her was
almost too much, too perfect. Their
bodies made for this. One of his hands
on her mouth, her teeth gritting closely to muffle the sound… deep, urgent
moans from within that sounded as soft whimpers in the cool stairwell.
This was what… the fifth or sixth meeting they’d had like
this? It started as a coffee meeting one
morning with the pretense of a job he could offer her. Then another
coffee. Then lunch. At that first meeting, her hand brushed his
and their eyes met and lights went on.
At the second, a knowing dance around evident desire.
At the third, she thanked him with a hug that became a kiss
that she said she shouldn’t have given…but that he gladly accepted.
Now, this. He thought
he heard a door open from a lower floor.
No real danger, but an annoyance.
And then lost. Totally gone. A SWAT team could enter the building now and
they wouldn’t be able to stop. In
sync. His teeth grazing her neck. Hand around her waist. She clinches down, down. Harder. Sweet hot heaven.
Her skirt back on, she turns to him. He is zipped, tie straight. Perfect.
He catches a glimpse of her ankle.
Then her eyes.
Two professionals open the door to the 90+ degree heat and
the glaring sun and walk in separate ways to different meetings where they will
be stars.
