To say I’d seen you around would be an understatement. For months, whenever I’d walk in and see you, my breath would come up short. It didn’t take me long to realize one thing: you were one of the most beautiful women I’d ever seen in my life. I tried to ignore it. What was I, a decade older than you? More? I knew you were in your early twenties. Despite how gorgeous you were, there was still the girlish softness in your cheeks, the youthful roundness to your body. I tried not to notice. I really tried. But I would catch myself looking. I’d catch myself being aware of where you were in the room. Of what you were wearing. Of your beauty, and the body that was under it all.

I’d catch myself looking. And sometimes, you’d catch me looking, too. Sometimes, when I’d look, you’d already by looking my way. But circumstances being what they were, I couldn’t do anything. We’d only spoken twice, and that was only to say good morning. There were so many things standing between me making a move. I think I recognized something in you. The same need. The same want. But even if I desperately wanted you, I was very good at convincing myself, and being convinced by everyone else, that the gorgeous girl would never want me.

And then I walked in that morning and saw you. And my heart stopped in my chest. Your long dark hair that fell past your shoulders. Your eyes a brown so deep and dark they were almost black. Your golden yellow sundress. The thickness of your thighs beneath. The way that dress cupped your breasts. I couldn’t take it. I was instantly grateful for having seen you and your beauty, and irritated that I couldn’t do anything about it.

I went about my day and tried to shake it off. But as usual on the days when I would see you, you were always there, lingering in the back of my mind.

Until the moment at the end of the day, when I rose from my desk chair and was starting to shut down my office for the night. Then I looked up, and you were standing there. At my door.

I tried to say hey but the word didn’t escape my throat. I watched as you slowly stepped inside. You glanced at me, then your gaze fell again as you gently shut the door behind you. The click of the latch seemed loud in the silence between us. Then you turned, and slowly leaned back against the door. From under your dark, perfect eyebrows, your gaze burned into me again. Nothing like this had ever happened to me before. I was a good looking guy. I went to the gym. I had broad shoulders, big arms, and strong hands. But I just wasn’t the kind of guy women approached. Ever. But I wasn’t going to question this.

I suddenly found myself inches away from you. You pitched your hips forward in an unmistakable movement, waiting for my hands. My hands suddenly felt absolutely empty. I was desperate to fill them with you. I didn’t waste another second.

The next moment we were pressed together, your supple body crushed against mine. It seemed like my hands were everywhere all at once, and still couldn’t get enough of you. Your lips were against mine, so soft, your mouth open, the velvet of your tongue pushed into my mouth, driving me wild. I pressed you between myself and the door, my fingers in your hair, my hands gripping the curves of your hips, sliding up the valley of your waist, crushing you to me. I wanted zero space between my body and yours. The press of your pelvis met the weight of mine, and the smallest moan escaped your throat as you felt my hardness slide against you.

I let up just long enough to spin you around, then I crushed you against the door again. With one hand I pulled your hair aside and began wetly kissing your ear, licking your neck. I could hear your breath become harder as you pressed your ass back against me, your yellow sundress riding up in the friction between us. My hands couldn’t stop. They slid up over your hips, to your waist, up the softness of your belly, and finally came to rest on your perfect tits. They weren’t big, but I wouldn’t want them to be. They fit perfectly in the palms of my hands, round, and soft. I squeezed them, first gently, then harder, and you ground your ass back against me and whispered, “yes.”

I dropped one of my hands and slid it beneath your dress, between your legs. I gasped at the softness, and the heat, and the wetness. Even through your panties I could feel your desire building. I wanted nothing more than to take you right there. But I didn’t. Instead I pulled you away from the door and threw you down on the table against one wall, my gentleness giving way to passion. I raised up and looked at you, laid out below me perfectly on your back, your sundress bunched in all the best places, the curves of your chest heaving with your ragged breath, your legs all but wrapped around my waist. And I watched as you raised your arms above your head, stretching your body out, luxuriating in my lust for you.

Then I was on my knees, helpless. My fingers pushed back your dress and clawed away your panties, and then my mouth was on you, all over you, licking the insides of your thighs, from your knees to your folds and all around, until you were squirming with need for me to finally plunge my tongue into you. And I did. Over and over and over again, while my fingers brushed circles against your bud, and the other hand reached up to squeeze your tits. I taste you, the honey sweet drip of you, I heard your throaty voice moaning, heard you clamp a hand over your own mouth, then heard you fall quiet as a powerful shudder wracked your body, your hips bucking beneath my mouth, your back arching on the table.

I stand up and I’m ready for you, and you’re ready for me. But somehow you lunge from the table and we are across the room, and it's my turn for my back to be against the door. Achingly slow, you drop to your knees, your eyes never breaking contact with mine. Then suddenly I’m in your mouth and god…the softness of you, of your tongue, the warm wetness of your mouth as you press down onto me…it’s like heaven. My cock throbs as you take me deeper and deeper into your mouth, first slowly, then furiously, until I’m in your throat, and my fingers are tangled in the dark tresses of your hair. You take me to the edge of oblivion, but somehow I pull myself back from the brink.

I yank you to your feet and crush you face first against the door again, and it’s only an instant until I grip your hips and thrust inside you, as deep and as hard as I can. You gasp, and neither of us are in control anymore. My fingers dig into your hips, my body bent forward to meet yours pressed back against me. And I rail you from behind like our lives depend on it, me thrusting into you, you crashing back onto me until neither of us knows where the other ends and we begin. I grabbed fistfuls of your tits and squeeze your nipples hard, and again I feel you shudder, and your legs all but buckle.

I don’t let you fall. My arm is around your waist, and I guide you back to the table and sprawl you out on your back once more. I push your dress up from your pussy, and yank the top of it down, exposing your perfect tits. Then I’m inside you again, gripping your thighs, pounding into you over and over and over again, like I can’t hold you tightly or closely enough. I lean down and kiss down your neck, down your chest, until my mouth is filled with your tits, your nipples, you, you, you, growling into your ear while I pound you and pound you and pound you, listening to your voice cry out as I explode into you with thrusts that are like the hammer falling on the anvil over and over again, filling you up, spending myself inside you until we both collapse into each others arms.

Eventually I help you up. In between deep, wet kisses, I help you straighten your dress. Then finally I run my fingers through your long dark hair. The burning gaze of your dark brown eyes sears into me again, and I meet it with my own.

Then you walk out of my office, but not without one last glance back at me.