Navigating the maze-like second floor of our office building, I turned the corner into the records room with a handful of folders to refile. It wasn't until I completed the turn that I realized I was on a collision course with someone leaving the room. Without thinking, I raised a hand to buffer the impact.
A fraction of a second later, I found myself face-to-face with a woman I'd never seen before, my hand on her left breast.
Her large bedroom eyes gave me a slow once-over before her face broke into an amused smile. "We've got to stop running into each other like this!"
She looked to be in her late twenties and stood about five-ten.
A short navy skirt showed off thick, shapely thighs. Her white blouse's three top buttons were undone, a deep valley running between two large pear-shaped breasts.
"I don't know," I finally said. "I enjoyed it!"
She laughed as she ran a hand through her dirty blonde hair which fell past her shoulders.
Having taken a small step backwards after the collision, I inched closer and held out my hand. "My name's Luke. I work in billing."
"Lisa," she said. "Pleased to meet you. I'm not exactly sure what I do here yet. They've got me in customer service for right now. This is my second day."
"And already you've found the records room! I'm impressed."
When she laughed I thought I might have a chance with her, even though being in my early forties probably put me out of her league.
But then my inner klutz sabotaged even that improbable chance as three folders slipped from my grasp onto the floor, their contents scattering.
When I knelt on one knee to retrieve them, she quickly joined me, our faces close enough I could take in her minty breath.
"Can I help?" she said.
My cock had a few ideas regarding how to answer that question, and when I looked into her face I had the impression she'd read my mind. Otherwise, how to explain her wicked smile?
"Thanks," I said.
We spent far more time than necessary retrieving the scattered folder contents, then, drunk on the aroma of her perfume, I helped her to her feet. Her grin seemed to confirm that she'd noticed my erection.
"You're big," she said.
Before I could respond, she grabbed my arm. "What I meant to say was you're tall."
"So I've been told."
She laughed. "I'm stating the obvious, aren't I? How tall are you?"
"I'm six-three, and based on your physique, I'm guessing you played a sport in college?"
"Softball. You look like you work out some."
"I do. I like to keep in shape. I'm not getting any younger. Like to keep what I have working well."
Her gaze traveled the length of my body. "It looks like you keep everything in very good working order."
"I don't get any complaints."
"I'm guessing you have a very satisfied wife?"
"Never tied the knot."
Her smile widened. "Then a very satisfied girlfriend, no doubt?"
"At the moment I'm between girlfriends. So what about you? Satisfied boyfriend, perhaps?"
She grinned. "Not presently, but I'm thinking maybe my luck will change with this new job."
"Well, if there's anything I can do."
"Actually there is," she said, allowing me time to fantasize before she continued. "Tom says I should tone down how I dress." She was referring to the manager of our family-owned insurance company. "I'm curious what you think."
Her query allowed me an opportunity to ogle her body again. Mentally undressing her, I imagined those thighs pressed against my waist as we fucked each other's brains out.
"I love your outfit," I said.
"Thanks, but do you think I need to tone it down like Tom says?"
"I'm just a mere underling around here."
"I don't think so."
"I think you look just fine."
She grinned.
"Better than fine, even. Way better than fine."
She laughed. "You're funny!"
Just then, someone I recognized from human resources approached. I guided Lisa down the hallway to get out of earshot.
"The layout of this place confuses me," she said. "Particularly how the records room is just stuck in the middle of nowhere."
"Does that mean I can look forward to running into you again?"
She put her hand on my shoulder. "Luke, you can run into me any time you'd like."
**
It turned out Lisa worked in a part of the building that I rarely needed to visit. Although office romances weren't prohibited officially, they were discouraged. Thus I was wary of arousing suspicion. Our mating ritual, if that's what it was, proved frustrating to continue. Either Lisa was with another worker or else absent from her desk. The best I could manage were a few brief 'hello's.'
Then we ran into each other again. This time I was leaving the records room when she suddenly appeared. In the split-second before we collided I raised my hands in front of me and thus got another feel of those spongy orbs.
When my fingers lingered on her breasts for a second longer than necessary, her eyes widened and a grin appeared. I took a step back. She grabbed my arm. "We really DO need to stop meeting like this!"
Her legs peeked out of a grey skirt whose length was minimally longer than the one she wore that first day. Her blouse clung to her breasts in a way that made her look even more alluring, even with the top's modest neckline.
"On the contrary," I said. "We don't run into one other often enough!"
She chuckled and brushed something invisible off her blouse, my eyes tracking her hand's movement over her breast.
"Where have you been hiding?" she said.
"I could ask you the same question. It seems you're hardly ever at your desk."
"Tom keeps me on my toes," she said, giving me a sly grin.
"I bet he does. And no more comments about your dress-for-success outfits?"
She smiled. "No. Could I ask you a personal question, Luke?"
"Fire away."
"You said you weren't married."
I nodded.
"And you're not seeing someone."
"Only you, but very infrequently."
She blushed and my nether regions stirred. She gave me a playful slap on the shoulder. "Just about every guy, including a couple of married ones, have hit on me."
"As well they should!"
That comment earned me another slap, harder.
"What I want to know is," she said, "why haven't you?"
"Asked you out?"
She nodded. "I know you like me."
I pressed my finger into her chest, where the outline of her bra cups came together.
She grabbed my wrist, but did not try to pull my hand away.
"I more than like you, Lisa."
Her eyes widened. "But you don't know me."
"I think I do."
Her eyes widened even more. "Then you should know I'm not a softie."
I chuckled. "So what are you saying? You're hard?"
"I am. What about you? Are you hard?"
"Very hard."
She made a thing of glancing at my crotch. "I bet you are. From all that working out you do at the gym."
"And from thinking about working out with you, hopefully sometime soon."
"Are you playing in the softball game next week?" Lisa was referring to our summer last-Friday-of-the-month softball games and picnics. Next week's event was the first of the season.
"I am."
"Are you doing anything after the game?"
"Yes. I'm going to the picnic."
"And after that?"
"Are you trying to ask me out, Lisa?"
She stuck out her tongue and walked away.
**
The following Friday, game day, everyone came to work dressed to play ball. In my case that meant a tee-shirt advertising my favorite college football team and a pair of canvas cargo shorts.
The few people actually at their workstations exchanged comments about the game. As was the case for most people who play only occasionally, our office competition was cutthroat.
For the past few years I'd been assigned to play shortstop. My place in the batting order seemed to drop each year. I wondered if Lisa was on my team and what position she'd play.
The break room had lots of people milling around the bulletin board opining about the batting order and which team was more likely to win. I was listed to play shortstop and bat eighth for the Orioles; Lisa was pitching for the Tigers.
I didn't see her coming. As a result, the collision was almost full frontal, catching us both by surprise. At the last minute, I raised my arms to avoid touching her breasts. Instead, her soft orbs pressed into my chest.
She put a hand on my shoulder to steady herself. "Oh my god, Luke! Really?"
I grabbed her arm. "Face it, Lisa. You just can't keep your hands off me."
We stepped into the hallway to remove ourselves from the crowd. Her perfume sent erotic signals to my southern region.
Lisa wore a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved, tight fitting, tee-shirt advertising--hold the phone--MY favorite college football team!
She yelped when she finally looked at my shirt. "Did you actually go there?"
"I actually did."
"When did you graduate?"
Now came the moment of truth. If age was going to be an issue between us, better to know now. I told her the year. She told me hers. Seven years separated us. She didn't react.
"You're pitching," I said.
"And you're playing shortstop for the evil empire!"
I nodded.
"How good are you at the plate?" she said, a mischievous twinkle in her eye.
"There's other venues where I perform better."
"Other venues? Name one."
I put my arm around her waist. "It's a long story best told over a few drinks."
She gave me an appraising look. "Are you asking me out?"
"I might be."
She squeezed my arm. "I might agree if my team wins."
"I'm not that easy, Lisa," I said in a teasing voice. "You should prepare yourself for disappointment."
She squared herself. "I'm not that easily intimidated, buster!" she said in mock outrage, jabbing a finger in my chest.
