Her sharp blue eyes stare him down. The man is sitting comfortably in his chair reading a book, He looks so hot in his buttoned up shirt. Her mind visualizes him stripping down slowly, exposing his well-defined body bit by bit. He notices her eyes and stares back, startling her with an assertive stare. Her eyes snap back to her own book, face red with embarrassment, but he'd already noticed her eyeing him hungrily. Sensing movement, she peeks back in his direction and sees him stand and walk towards her, his steps meaningful and slow, almost like the ground doesn't want to let go of him, his tanned skin rippling the light through his muscles, clearly shown under his rolled-up sleeves. He sits upright in the open chair beside her, his face tilted towards her with a mix of interest and curiosity in his eyes;
"Something wrong?"
His question comes with a quiet firmness, loud enough for only her to hear and unnecessarily quiet given they were alone in the place. A small smirk plays at his lips, his eyes boring into hers.
"Wrong? The only thing wrong is your body isn't on top of mine," she immediately thinks as her mouth fumbles for something she can say without sounding like a silly girl. He cocks his head just a twitch, almost amused by her frozen, silent surprise. Another beat of eye contact and his gaze shifts, and he reaches out to her hand with his. She inhales sharply at the warmth of his touch but doesn't pull back, the contact just enough to snap her out of his spell. She regains her confidence and manages to reply, "N-no... nothing at all, sir."
"Hmm sir," he smiles at her, "Do I look that old?"
The man is clearly in his mid-30s, far from old, and she could not explain why she had called him sir. But it was too late now. "Not at all, sir" she stutters, quickly regretting calling him sir again. His smile gets wider, clearly enjoying her lack of self-control around him. She tries to get a hold of herself but thinks against it. She's had a tiring week and she had gone so long without a man, her hands only doing so much by themselves. She thought of how good it'd feel to let him have his way with her, to let him take her as he pleases. She realizes she wants him. However unlike before she is no longer nervous. She's confident and willing to submit to him. She looks right into his eyes and his smile disappears, his serious eyes entering her soul, forcing her back into her chair. He notices her body contracting. He was in control now, she knew what he wanted, she could sense it from the curl of his lips at her leaning back into her chair, his tone, his hand on hers. She wanted it too. Just as much if not more. Already she could feel her own delight at the thought of this man-one she'd just met, far more handsome than anyone she had seen before.
She pulls her hand from under his and puts it on top, just to test the waters. The message is understood, the power play is on. He gets up and lifts her hand with her, gently pulling her up with him. She stands up into his embrace, to meet his hand around her waist. Before they know it, their lips meet and she feels the warmth of his breathe on her, his dick hard against her body through the layers of cloth in between. She feels the heat between her thighs rising, her body grinding against his erection, as his tongue finds hers and they wrap in a violent embrace of love.