but wanted to post it on my own site as well.
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I don't exactly remember when I first saw you in the building, but I will never forget the first time that we had a meeting together in the same room. Your department was getting ready to deploy a whole new software suite to handle disaster recovery issues and, since I was the new IT manager, I had to come in and get caught up with the project. The first 30 minutes of the meeting were as boring as could be as people droned on and on about their background, their slice of the project, and about how I wasn't going to be of any help.
"Fine." I thought, "What a bunch of pricks."
As I gathered my stuff to leave, Tony, the team manager, called me into his office as he was hanging up the phone. "You missed Q's presentation; she'll be here in a minute."
When you walked through the door I felt like I had inhaled a head full of helium, laughing gas, and truth serum all at once. You wore a long sleeved black lace dress (from
I was smart enough, or tongue-tied enough, to not say anything stupid which is unusual for me, but your beauty held me so enraptured that I said little, smiled often, and more than once heard myself giggling at the sound of your voice. Your presentation was short, professional, and more useful that the 2 hours I had spent with the rest of your team. We stood up, exchanged business cards, and shook hands for a very long time. Your boss had left about 10 minutes earlier for a three-martini lunch so you asked me to help you carry some papers back to your office just three doors down the hall.“
Why were you late?” I asked.“
I was in HR, having my exit interview,” you said without a touch of emotion, “Today is my last day.”
If you have ever walked through a museum and found the perfect painting, you find yourself just sitting and staring as your tour group goes on. No one else understands why a certain picture takes hold of your heart and mind at the same time, but you feel like you could study it for a lifetime and see it as new every day. When the museum closes and the surly guard forces you to pack up your art kit and leave your painting behind, you realize that you will dream of it, relive it, sketch it, and picture it in your mind forever. I had already decided that you were my perfect painting.
“You’re leaving?”
“In 45 minutes.” You said, “My roommate from college is coming to pick me up for the weekend.”
As we walked into your office you walked behind your desk and told me to set the papers on the window sill. You began to walk out of the office but stopped, closed and locked the door, and turned to face me. The sunlight on your face, streaming in from the busy streets of Westwood lights up your skin like porcelain fireworks. You stepped back towards me and turned around. Your hand went to the zipper at the top of your dress.
“Pull” was all you said.
As the zipper made its way noisily down, my hand shook and my heart began to pound. The thin material of your bra came into view and my hand paused.
“Don’t stop” came out as just a whisper. The zipper ended its journey as the wispiest thong I had ever seen came into view.
With a shrug of your strong, feminine shoulders, your dress fell to your desk and I leaned in against you, feeling your skin, your hips, your arms, and smelling your long luxurious black hair. My hands wrapped around your waist and felt your slender body press back into mine. You put your hands on mine and pulled them up, cupping your breasts with my hands as your hips pressed hard into my growing arousal. You threw your head back and invited my lips to your neck as my hands went under the see-through silk of your full cups to feel and pull and abuse the erect nipples that lay waiting for my touch.
I am rough, urgent, and aware of our short time together and you return the energy. Your bra comes off as you flick the latch that sits between my hands that hold you tightly. Fully released, I realize how perfect and full they are, so ready for attention and so willingly shared. As I play and explore their supple fullness, I become aware that your hand have moved down to your ass and are between us, grasping at my hardness, trying feverishly to work the belt and zipper that stand between us.
With one hand I reach down and accomplish what your shaking hands can not. As you take me in your hands my body arches into you and we stumble forward, catching ourselves noisily against your empty desk. As reminder that this is our first, last, and only moment.
The edge of the desk digs into your muscular thighs as my weight presses against you from behind. “Lift up” you mutter, and I pull my weight off you just slightly, unsure if you have changed your mind, cleared your head, and thought better of the best thing that could ever happen.
Instead of stopping, you spread your feet ever so slightly and lean against the desk once more. My left hand releases your pink and now tender breasts and goes to your hair, pulling and controlling your head as I lean by body into yours once again. Your hands go out in front of you to support your weight as you bend over across your desk. I reach around you, stroking your hips and stomach as I go, trying to memorize your every curve. My hand centers itself on your stomach and begins to descend under the wet, delicate, translucent material of your panties. Your skin is smooth and tight, hairless, shaved, prepared, manicured to perfection for the joy and pleasure of the ones you love.
Your hips press back into my increasingly hard body as you make room for my hand to make the curve from your body to your inner self. As I feel your arousal I bring my hips off yours, allowing my erection to drop down, aligning our bodies as my fingers explore, as your hands guide, and as our hearts prepare to explode.
The act of entering is enough to send us both into the extreme space where time truly stands still, where emotions die and are reborn a millions times over and where pleasure and the oneness of perfect release sends us into a world all of our own.
But this first release is just the beginning. You press your hips backwards, driving me deeper and deeper as we get into a thrusting rhythm. My hands drop to your hips and I pull you on to me, only to lift you off and impale you again and again. The site of me entering your sends me over the edge again and I feel myself filling you. I then get my most extreme wish as I feel you fingers joining me. They dance around my cock as it slides in and out and when I am fully engulfed, I feel your slender fingers dancing over your clit, hot, pink, and swollen.
You bring your own desires to the front and join me in pleasuring your perfect aching needs. Your orgasm washes over you as you whimper and gasp and bite your knuckles to keep from screaming out. I smile and laugh out loud and pull you to standing with my body still inside of you. Not willing to let this end, I lift you up and spin you around to face me. Your legs instinctively wrap around me and I lower you down until I can kiss you.
Our lips meet and feel as if they are fleshy pieces of a long unfinished puzzle. Our passion mellows as I enter you again, but the focus is now on us, on our lips, my hands in your hair, and your arms around my neck as we inhale each other’s scent. A few minutes of gentle rocking passes and your reach down between our bodies and, as I press you against the office wall holding your legs wide, you bring yourself to orgasm again as your tongue invades me and as our souls melt together as one. We hold each other as we catch our breath and your feet find themselves back on solid ground. I pull away from you and smile and you smile back.
With slight pressure on my chest, you push me away and signal for me to stop. You reach out and unbutton my shirt and pull it from my shoulders. You kneel in front of me, and help me remove my shoes and my socks and step out of my pants, leaving me completely bare. I teasingly thrust my softening cock as you stand, but you ignore it and signal for me to remain where I am.
You stop back and remove your shoes and slowly peel off the wisp of material that covers you. Then we stand, just inches apart, completely naked, and not touching.
“Get hard” you say.
I immediately feel my body respond, pumping blood from all extremities to fulfill your request.
You step across the small divide between us and push me back again, against the wall. You again stop away and signal for me to stand still. You sit on the edge of your desk with your legs crossed at your ankles, your full breasts hanging softly under the demure cover of your cascading hair. You scoot back 6 inches and lean back, supporting yourself with your arms. With a quick shake of your head, you uncover your breasts and expose them to me without hesitation or shame. Your hair hangs to the desk, framing your endless smile and you begin to speak.
“Look at me.”
I gaze over your eyes, dark and moist, endlessly deep, filled with laughter and passion. I see your skin, smooth, blemish free except for a tiny patch of stretch marks from your only child. I watch as your chest rises and falls with each breath, lifting the soft, firm breasts that sway gently. I look at your nipples, firm, tight, tall, and damp with perspiration.
As my gaze lowers, I hear you whisper “Remember” and your legs begin to part.
With no hair to block my view, I see your lips, still glistening, begin to pull apart. The bright swollen colors display themselves as proudly as an Orchid that has just won “Best in Show.” Perfection in nature, beauty in passion, exquisite in function and design. I look and see the variation in color, rich reds, flaming pinks, subtle hues that ebb and flow as your body changes and as your arousal flows.
“Kneel”
I obey.
“Approach”
I scoot forward, an inch at a time, always looking, watching, desiring as I get closer to your open flesh.
“Taste”
Gently, I move closer, extending my tongue, not to bring pleasure to you, but gather sensuous memories for me. It is warm, slick, muscled, soft, fragrant, incredible, tight, open, and inviting. Moving up, I feel your hands move to your center, pulling back on the tender hood, bringing me to your clit. Confident in the invitation, I swirl my tongue around it, drawing it into my mouth, holding it, until a silent moan, a violent, controlled twitch, and gentle pressure from your hand brings me off, and back to my feet.
Now it is your turn to move. You bring your legs together with a sense of finality that is more felt than expressed. You kneel in front of me and rub your soft cheeks against my hardness. Your lips brush against my tightly bunched sack and you nip, and bite gently. As I look down at your beautiful face, you eyes turn upward, and you whisper again.
“Remember.” You envelope me. It is warmth, tenderness, need, passion, perfection all strung together. Your movements are small, expertly measured, and infinitely patient. Moments seem like hours, minutes seem like seconds, clocks and calendars disappear from memory and the universe collapses into the space around us, cosmically detached from time, space, and the laws of physics themselves, our world reduces itself to two hearts, two souls, two bodies, and one singularity of pleasure.
With a firm squeeze on my backside and a soft motion that pulls me closer, you give me permission, and I cum. It is like silk, like rain, like a flowing of power and energy. Without thrusting, or moving, or flinching, I empty myself, body and soul, and with tender, hungry acceptance, you take me. You stand in front of me and our arms wrap around each other for the last time.
Without discussion, I hand you your dress and your bra and slip your panties into my pocket as I pull on my pants and button my shirt. Your personal effects are already packed and your computer is off. Your phones have been forwarded to the department secretary and your nameplate is down from the wall and sticks out awkwardly from your oversized purse.
“Walk me out.” I pick up the only box and follow you to the elevator. In silence we descend. Your heels click and echo as we walk across the small lobby, past the bank, and out to the street. The noise of the traffic quiets any attempt at saying goodbye, so we stand silently as we wait for your roommate to arrive.
A late-model SUV pulls into the valet driveway and a stunningly athletic blonde jumps out and comes around to greet you. She practically bounces around the car and wraps you up in an intimate bear-hug. You smile and hug her back and kiss her back in kind, not as roommates do, but as reunited lovers.
She takes the package from me as you slip into the front seat. As she fusses in the back, arranging previously packed luggage for both of you. You stare out the window at me, and mouth a single word over and over.
Remember, remember, remember…..
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