I'm working late one Monday night at the office. You're working in your office; you're wearing that sleeveless shirt and showing a lot of cleavage. An email shows up in my inbox. You ask me to proofread the document that you've been working on. I hop over to your office, happy to help a co-worker out. Especially one as attractive as you.

I take the opportunity to simply look over your shoulder at the monitor. My head floating about 4 inches above your shoulder. I take in the sights and smells that are suddenly available to me.

Suddenly, you tilt your head back and give a lick on my chin - quickly turning back to your computer. My heart rate doubles in that second. I'm trying to figure out if that actually happened, or if I dreamed it. I gently rest my hands on your shoulders for support. I'm afraid that my legs won't hold me for much longer.

I continue to pretend to read the document. I'm having a hard time focusing on anything past your personal space. My hands start gently caressing your shoulders as if they had a mind of their own. You don't move. You barely breathe. I slowly move my hands to the sides of your neck, feeling my way to your jaw line. All the while softly rubbing your supple skin. When my thumb brushes behind your ears, you gasp. You quickly tense up and cut off the sound because you know there are others in the office tonight.

I lean my head in closer and gently take your ear lobe between my lips. Just to feel the softness. My hands start back down the smooth path they just finished. I follow with my mouth. Kissing. Nibbling. I slowly work my way across your cheek. I almost reach your mouth when you turn your head just enough. Our lips meet.

The heat generated by our union threatens to burn my lips. Our mouths gracefully open and our tongues commence a smooth, persistent dance around themselves. Time stops. But the dance continues into the eternal.

Without ever breaking contact, you stand up. With our height difference you have to tilt your head up to me a bit. My hands grasp your waist as yours are firmly embedded into my forearms. Slowly, like trying to keep opposite magnetic poles apart, we bridge the distance. Abruptly, there's no place for your arms to go, so you throw them around my neck. Our chests slam together. My blood is roaring in my ears. The kiss intensifies as both of us try to pull the other in tighter. Then, without warning you pull away.

Time resumes. I stare back into your blue eyes trying to catch my breath. You break the gaze to scan the room. Too many windows. You suddenly appear to make a decision as you roughly grab my arm with both hands and half-drag me out the door.

You let go and start walking briskly towards a door at the end of the hallway. I haven't moved. You stop in the doorway and look back over your shoulder at me. An evil grin spreads across your face. You disappear into the room.

I do everything that I can not to run full-out towards the room. I step in to see you with your back in the corner of the room. Staring hungrily at me. There are no windows. I close the door without looking and somehow fumble the lock closed. I collapse the distance between us in less than a second.

Our mouths meet again in a natural way, as if - once having been there - they knew no other place to be. I'm trying to breathe through my nose while we kiss, but I just can't seem to ever get enough air. My heart is beating so fast I can't single out the beats. My head starts to spin.

It takes me a second to notice that your hands are no longer on my neck and back, but are, in fact, slowly rising up my chest. Eventually, your hands reach the top buttons of my shirt. You deftly start undoing my buttons. When you undo the last button, you again place your hands on my chest. This time you feel the heat from my skin as you caress me.

Meanwhile, my hands have not been idle. Gripping your waist I slide my hands under the edge of your blouse. I know that your shirt has buttons, but in the moment I simply cannot remember how to undo them. I have the sense not to rip the shirt off of you; so I grab the shirt from bottom and quickly pull straight up.

This briefly makes your hands fly above your head, and - just as briefly - interrupts the kiss. I know that your shirt was above us at that point, but I simply have no memory of what happened to it. Once again the vacuum appeared between us and we collapsed into each other. Only now it was different. The skin-on-skin feeling of our abdomens together block out any other thoughts. It's tense. It's natural. It's right. Like crack in the windshield, your bra noticeably interrupts the pattern. I know you feel it too because you're shifting slightly back and forth.

I can only assume that you reached back and opened it yourself. A second later, you arched your body back like a cobra. You somehow shed the bra. Our chests merge into one, heated, pulsating mass. Every shallow breath appears synchronized. Every heart beat is amplified.

At this point I break the kiss. I know you don't want to stop the kiss because I nearly have to pull my bottom lip from between your teeth. I don't give you a chance to miss it because I immediately bite down into your neck. We are still fused at the chest as I alternate between biting and licking. Sucking and kissing.

I feel your hands at my belt. I firmly and gently grab your wrists and redirect your hands to my sides. Not yet. You seem to accept this and resume caressing my sides and my back.

As I nibble on your shoulders, I open my eyes. I can see goosebumps on you even here. I use my tongue to trace the line of your collarbone to the center of your chest. I let my lips brush down your chest as my left hand raises and cups your breast. I gently start kissing your breast that I am holding tenderly. I glide my tongue to your areola. You seem eager as you arch your chest into me. I circle your nipple several times without so much as touching it. Your nipple is engorged and erect and yearning for my touch. I move off again to the flesh beneath your breast. Kissing the places that no one else knows about. Your universe seems centered on your breast and the orbiting kisses. When I finally move up and take your nipple in my mouth, the sun explodes.

Your hands suddenly feel cold to you as all your blood rushes to your core. Your stomach feels as though it is simultaneously filled with liquid nitrogen and a bright, burning star. The room begins to spin. You open your eyes to calm down, but it doesn't work. You close them again to return to the sensations.

I alternate between gentle sucking, soft flicks with my tongue and small bites with my front teeth. My hand is massaging the flesh of your breast as if trying to coax out some mother's milk. Your nipple responds to me. Pulsing with every beat of your heart.

My right hand reaches for the clasp of your pants. You definitely notice as you somehow make room for my fingers to enter the top lining. It may have taken 5 seconds or 5 minutes to unclasp and unzip your pants. I don't know. Time seemed irrelevant.

I hook my thumbs in the top of your pants and, in one swift move, remove your pants and panties - dropping them in a pile around your feet - and springing back up to resume the french kiss from so long ago.

Somehow, you leap up out of your clothes and, throwing your legs around me, cling to my mid section. My hands firmly grab your butt, partly for your support, partly for my own selfish reasons. You moan quietly through the kiss.

Vaguely remembering that there's a large table in the middle of this room, I turn us around and take the three steps to reach it. I bump into it with the tops of my legs. I set you down on the table softly and guide you to a reclined position. The table is chilly to the touch, but you barely notice.

I place my hands on your abdomen and commence rubbing the skin from side to side. Almost like a back massage, but on your front. My wandering occasionally takes me to your hips. My thumbs glance off your mons. Eventually, my fingers trace the intersection of your legs and your pelvis. Traveling from your hips - down, down to your pussy.

The instant I make contact with your pussy your back arches. Your breasts are thrust upwards as your head supports most of your weight.

I softly trace every fold, every line of your pussy. Your lips are so engorged with blood they are radiating heat. I gently part your lips, just a little, with my finger. Warmth and wetness are my reward. A small drop oozes out and threatens to go nowhere.