Printer hums in the corner. Coffee brews, sharp and bitter, mixing with her floral perfume. Open-space buzz. Keyboards clack. Phones ring distant. I shuffle dossiers. Glance up. She’s there. New intern. Twenty-something. That sway in her hips. Smile unchanged from him. My old boss. Years ago. One night. His office. I stole more than a kiss. Guided his hesitant hands. Fiery summer fling. Then I left. Conquered others. Croups offered. Thighs parted. I know the spots now. Precise caresses. Voluptuous kisses. But routine. Faded lovers. Until her. His daughter. Eyes lock across desks. Heat rises. Heart pounds. Adrenaline spikes. Risk of eyes on us. Hierarchy crushes. But lust wins. I nod. ‘Conference room. Files.’ She nods. Hesitant steps. Chaloupée walk. Past reconstructs. Breasts dance under blouse. Future flashes. Dirty. Possible. Door clicks shut. Lock turns. Sharp snap. Echoes. Mouse clicks fade outside. Silence thick. Smell intensifies. Coffee. Perfume. Arousal hints. Tension coils. Stomach tight. ‘Remember your dad?’ I whisper. She blushes. ‘He mentioned you.’ Smirk. ‘Show me.’ Her hand trembles. On my arm. Electric. I push her against table. Dossiers scatter. Whisper. ‘I’ve dreamed of this croupe. Wide. Offered.’ Lips crash. Tongues tango. Old steps. New fire. Skirt hikes. Thighs part. Stockings whisper. Heat radiates. Fingers trace. Prairie of thighs. Cinnamon grass. Fresh. I kneel. Perfume drowns coffee. Panties aside. White lace. Innocent. Vulva blooms. Badiane. Cumin. Chevrefoil. Nectar flows. Tongue dives. Canyon secrets. Humus. Musc. She gasps. Muffled. Door rattles? No. AC hums. Legs quake. Fingers grip hair. ‘Fuck. Yes.’ Dirty. Raw. Clit swells. Cup. Drink. Ambrosia. She bucks. ‘Don’t stop.’ I don’t. Precise. Know the map. Forests dense. Mangue warm. Traverse perineum. Noisette. Orchid. Plunge deep. Fingers join. Two. Curl. G-spot hit. Moans rise. ‘Shh.’ Hand over mouth. Eyes wild. Pleasure peaks. Body arches. Floods. Tastes like mom? Better. Fresher. No nostalgia now. She slumps. Panting. But I rise. Unzip. No. Strap? No. Her turn. She spins me. Table edge. Blouse rips buttons. One pops. Rolls. Seins free. Peaks hard. Sternomastoid. Butine. Coriandre. Lips suck. Teeth graze. Skirt up. My turn. Panties off. She dives. Eager. Tongue laps. ‘Your pussy’s paradise.’ Growls. Fingers probe. Canyon mine. Bois. Thé fumé. I grind. Coffee forgotten. Perfume sweat-musk. Climax builds. Fast. Intense. Legs wrap head. ‘Eat me.’ She does. Fingers thrust. Three. Stretch. Gush. Scream stifled. Collapse. Bodies slick. Table creaks. Afterglow brief. Clock ticks. Meeting soon. Explosion fades. Adjust. Skirt smooth. Blouse buttoned. Loose one pocketed. Hair fixed. Lipstick smear. Wipe. She stands. Flushed. Grins. ‘That cured it.’ Door unlock. Click. Step out. Smiles professional. Back to open-space. Dossiers neat. ‘Good talk.’ Eyes wink. Secret sealed. Printer resumes. Coffee cools. Perfume lingers. Hierarchy intact. Lust hidden. Adrenaline buzz. No regrets. Tango over. Fresh rhythm.