The conference room was dead empty. Printer hummed low in the corner, spitting out forgotten reports. Door locked with a sharp click. Stale coffee stench mixed with my sharp perfume—musky, teasing. Moonlight sliced through blinds, glinting off water bottles and name tags on the table. Guests shuffled out earlier, coats over shoulders, whispers fading down carpeted halls. The boss’s dog—lazy mutt—curled up by the credenza. Just two shadows against the cherrywood bookshelf: me and him.
He stepped up. ‘You’re a woman, right?’
The Building Tension
‘Think so?’
‘A woman, I bet.’
‘You bet?’
‘Or a man, maybe…’
‘Yeah, maybe…’
‘Fuck, you turn me on anyway.’
‘Yeah? Without knowing if I’m… man or woman?’
‘Alright, you’re a dude. Obvious.’
‘My voice not ring a bell?’
‘Never heard it before.’
‘No, does it clue you in?’
‘Ah, yeah, but depends.’
‘On what?’
‘On words. Like ‘maybe’—sounds femme as hell.’
‘Yeah?’
‘But ‘you bet’—that’s pure guy talk.’
‘You bet?’
‘Yeah, on ‘you bet’, I’m sold.’
‘But the hair…’
‘Unisex cut, huh?’
‘Yeah, but texture…’
‘I shouldn’t touch yet…’
‘Do it.’
‘Yeah, silky. Girly, right?’
‘You tell me.’
‘Let me stroke your neck. Neck’s key.’
‘Go ahead.’
‘Man flesh, but… something soft.’
‘Unbutton the shirt. See clear.’
‘Really?’
The Explosive Release
‘Duh, we’re ending up tangled anyway…’
‘This shirt—funny, my girlfriend wears mine at home. Naked underneath, knees-long. Hot, innocent. Friends visit, clueless. I knew. Hard all day.’
‘Does this back kill doubts? Your probe going okay? Can’t see your focus from here.’
‘Love this back. Shoulders, ass. Hours staring.’
‘Think of me, dude. Standing hours, compliments droning. Boring.’
‘Yeah, I’m slow. Started at neck—killer. Down spine like Grand Canyon tourist. Falls in love.’
‘Drop pants too. Ass’ll tell.’
‘Perfect flow from back. My cock’s throbbing, can’t hold it.’
‘Free it! No pet suffers that.’
‘Thanks. Points right at your view.’
‘Glad. Feel that friendly push. Now, mouth welcomes it.’
‘Your lips caught my eye. Relief, maybe clue in your suck.’
‘Tell me.’
‘Quick, slick—teen eager. Still no dice.’
‘Yeah, poet of smokes and boys.’
‘Mouth velvet box. Femme. Jaw rough, male sheath…’
‘But… flooding my throat? You’re done?’
‘Blowjobs? I last forever. Hungry girl or greedy guy. Held hours stiff. But your mystery amped it.’
‘Fine welcome, huh? Then rush and drown me?’
‘Sorry. Your fault too. Tell me now—who?’
‘Affair? Wrong word. Business?’
‘Here I flop: dick limp, head down. Regret drips. Like kid stumped. Tell me to sleep, dream right. Your sex?’
‘Sex caring more for yours. Who cares now? Chips gone. Croupier’s swept. Zero hit.’
‘Please: doubt’s panic. Don’t dress!’
‘Back tomorrow, balls full, mind clear. Voice, hair, back, ass, mouth—no reveal. Tomorrow, my cock or pussy jumps out. Buck up. Someone might catch you wrecked.’
‘Okay, obey. Told you my love. Clumsy proof.’
‘Heart sick day exists. Clumsy lovers too. So fixated on dick or slit…’
‘Basic to know!’
‘No, sir. More my parts than me. Spark hit first glance. Fine. Then anatomy? Your hand would’ve cupped slit or shaft fine.’
Mouse clicked distant—late worker? Heart raced. Adrenaline spiked. I zipped him, wiped lips. Cum taste lingered, mixed coffee breath. Smoothed blouse over bra, skirt straight. No panties thrill. Door unlocked—click. Stride out. Next meeting waited. Poker face on. ‘Sorry, call ran over.’ Chair scrape. Notes flip. Legs crossed, pussy wet, pulse wild. He? Tomorrow’s toy. Risk? My drug.