It had been too long and she felt desperation creeping up on her. Her little forays into self-gratification were not satisfying any more. She was vulnerable and ripe for the taking and she knew it...yet she yielded to sound of his flattering silver tongue. She knew that his lines were just lines rehearsed; she was not the first and probably not the last. But his sensual way of just asking how her day was progressing made her tremble violently.
She felt as is she was a schoolgirl. Yet those days were far behind her and too many years of marriage and commitment had crept into her repertoire. She knew that the thrill had been gone for quite sometime between her and her spouse, yet she was committed. She loved her little home, her kids, and even him.
But late at night, when the house was quiet and she was quite alone with her thoughts, a yearning engulfed her, leaving her dissatisfied and perplexed as to what she should do. She was a woman of passion, created to satisfy a man. Her sexuality frightened her. She found herself wanting to embrace her mate with this passion, yet she knew it would return unto her unfulfilled. He could not understand how she longed to touch, to taste, to feel and be fulfilled likewise. It was more than sex...it was a passion. To love and be loved in return. And so she suppressed this longing and kept it hidden, well out of sight. She presented to the world and to her husband this delusion of composure, when all the while tears were forming inside of her and the fire of her desire threatened to engulf her in its flames.
So she knew from the moment she first laid eyes on this man that he was the embodiment of her desire. He exuded black male aggression and was not hesitant in being the aggressor. She could feel herself succumbing to him the moment his eyes looked into hers. If she could have been open and honest, she would have screamed "Take me, please! I'm yours!" But of course, she did nothing but mumble a few words of introduction and continue on with the scheduled appointment. She felt him watching her, assessing her.
At some point, she glanced up from the forms on her desk and found his eyes on her, intently studying her lips as they spread, then relaxed in a hesitant smile. He then looked into her eyes and the question she saw in them was in direct contrast to the question his lips formed. "Are the documents in order?" he asked, but she could have sworn she heard him say, "I wonder if you are wearing panties today." She felt a familiar wetness between her legs at his blatant unspoken query and felt in unchartered territory...this reading of the minds. She answered, "Yes, they are in order."