the copy room

Can you smell me? As I walk into the copy room, the fragrance of desire is thick around me…every pore focussed on having you. You’re at the photocopier, but you can’t see me.

I woke up this morning too soon. The writhing pleasure as I was fucking you was rudely interrupted by some stupid DJ on uppers. Why do they have to shout? I silenced him, but something in my belly was obscenely loud.

There never was any cerebral debating of the issue. I just woke up and knew I would be eating you today. My tongue tingled and juiced up as I thought of how much I was going to enjoy your skin.

I think I’ll take you from behind. Unbelting, unzipping, peeling back the outer skin, I lift my skirt and press gently against your buttocks, soft hairs against my abdomen. I slide my hand over the angle of your hips, down the front of your thighs and up between, scooping your balls into the shaft. Soft and downy as peaches, I let them fall heavily and reach up to unbutton your shirt. Oh yeah, that’s nice.

The stationary cupboard, the men’s toilets, the first aid room. Then there’s the cleaners room. Plenty of opportunities. When I’m this focused I’m never disappointed. The time will come, but for now, I press against you as you stand at the photocopier, tighten my legs and reach up to whisper in your ear, “Hi”. You turn, and I smile.