It’s been awhile . . . the energy is raw, unfocused. Release is all that matters.

It must be in the way you blink. The way you break eye contact for the slightest of moments, only to return. In a way that I’m barely aware, my hunger grows – breaking eye contact for, literally, a blink, makes me grow hungrier. Time passes and my sense of want, of need, of primal energies barely understood consumes me.

Wrapping up the meeting, that moment happens. With effort, I break my eyes away from your face and shut down the shared computer. Somewhere in the motion (intentionally? unconsciously intentionally?) my hand brushes against yours. Professionalism dictates that I withdraw it immediately, and I do, but I watch your fingers reach for mine, an attempt to hold onto the touch for just a moment. My eyes return to yours, my breathing ragged. “Well, we should follow…” and I trail off, having absolutely no idea what I was about to say.

As we both make for the door at the same moment, I step back, allowing you to head through first. But, not quite watching where you were heading (my eyes trailing you seemingly elsewhere), I missed when you turned back for your notes. Our bodies meet, and as you look up at me, I have no choice but to kiss.

Without breaking lip contact, you close the office door with a well placed leg sweep, and then trace your fingers up my chest. My entire body shivers as I place both my hands along both of your ears, my fingers diving into your hair & giving it just the slightest tug.

Your hand drops to my pants, feeling for my (now a very erect) cock through my trousers.