Monday with Amanda

Monday at 7 a.m. is not the time to strike up a friendly conversation with me. I think she could tell, but she did it anyway. Goddamn her.

"You're a little under-dressed for this building. And too young to be a lawyer."

The nosy barista studied me from behind the counter. Any other girl, I might have laid on the snark and ended the conversation. But something about her brought me up short.

I met her gaze, and I couldn't help but smile. She was disarmingly beautiful.

Brown hair in a messy bun. Slim jawline, cute nose. And sparkling, pretty blue eyes behind a pair of smart tortoise shell glasses.

"I'm guessing ..." She pursed her lips. "IT contractor."

She interrupted herself. "No, wait. Elevator inspector." She paused for a beat. "Yoga instructor?"

I laughed as I reached for my wallet.

She tugged at the lapel of her Oxford shirt. "I brought my workout bag, just tell me where your class is, and I'll be there."

She added with a wink, "I've already got my sports bra on and everything."

I was in jeans and a blazer, the very picture of a yoga instructor.

"Come on now..." I squinted at her nametag. "—Amanda." I tried very hard not to imagine her in a sports bra. "I'm not dressed that casually, am I?"

She just gave me a sly grin. "What can I get you then, Mr. Elevator Inspector?"

"It's Jeff. And... I'll just have a matcha latte."

"You sure? It's Cute 30-Something Awareness Day, I can get you a discount on a sandwich."

I looked behind me. No one in line. I glanced back at her and feigned surprise, gesturing questioningly at myself.

Then I grinned and shot back, "You should definitely cash in on that discount yourself."

Her mouth dropped open in mock indignation.

"How old do you think I am?" She winked and turned to grab a cup. "If I didn't know any better, I'd think you were hitting on me."

She pulled out a fine-point Sharpie and began writing on the cup.

"OK then, Jeff. One matcha latte, and..." She punched something into the computer. "A breakfast sandwich on the house."

An older man with a briefcase had, by that point, walked up and gotten in line behind me, spoiling our moment of fun. I paid for the drink and took a seat while I waited for my order.

I kept glancing up from my phone to watch her. She had poise and spunk, and she knew what she wanted, I thought.

She glanced my way once, and caught me staring. She just smiled and, with eyebrows raised, turned tail and walked away from me to the rear counter, shimmying her butt as she bent to grab a gallon of milk from the fridge below the counter.

And what a butt. Petite like the rest of her, but full, her tight round cheeks creasing her slacks in snug crescents against her thighs.

I was getting carried away. Try not to stare, I told myself. I pulled up my email inbox and made a valiant attempt to distract myself.

A minute later, Amanda produced my order at the pickup counter.

"Matcha latte and a sandwich for Mr. Jeff!" she said with a brilliant toothy smile. I could have sworn she was blushing just a little.

I said thanks and turned to head to my office. As I walked, I glanced down at my cup.

On it was written not my name, but hers, followed by an X and an O. And a phone number.

Mondays weren't so bad after all.

--

"So, do you always flirt with random guys at the coffee counter?" I texted.

I'd been thinking about her for hours, sitting in meeting after meeting, drafting proposals with colleagues, eating lunch with a client, fielding an urgent request from a senior partner. And the whole time, all I'd wanted to do was talk to the cute barista.

A minute passed before she wrote back.

"No, I only flirt with the ones who can get me a discount on a gym membership," she said.

I smiled.

"I don't think you'd be interested in my gym," I shot back.

"Why," she said. "Too much competition?" She added an emoji of two dancing girls in black leotards.

"No," I wrote. "My gym is just two dumbbells and a dog who believes pushup time is playtime."

"Well, as it happens," she wrote, "I also believe that."

Then she added, "You can always do your pushups on me."

I stared at her texts. My heart slammed against my ribs like a caged animal.

"I wonder how many reps I'd get in," I wrote back.

"Just keep going until I tell you to stop," she said.

"I think you'd better get your cute butt upstairs Amanda. Before I'm forced to work out alone."

"Don't you dare," she wrote. "I'm coming."

"Um, you will be," I wrote.

She texted back a heart-eyes emoji and one word: "Ugh."

--

Fifteen minutes later, her knock sounded at my office door. She had just gotten off work, and she still had on the white Oxford and black slacks, and a sensible pair of black ballet flats on her feet.

"Sorry I'm late," she said. "I went to the intern bullpen first, thinking I'd find you there, but no, you've got yourself some serious digs of your own!

She said it half in jest, but her eyes were wide as she glanced around my office.

"OK, so forget the lawyer joke I made earlier," she said.

Her head swiveled back and forth at the well-appointed space. "You've clearly done OK for yourself, haven't you?"

I could tell she was suddenly getting a little self-conscious. After all, we weren't that far apart in age, and here she was, a lowly barista standing in the office of a corporate lawyer.

I was still a rookie, but you wouldn't have known it from the sprawling office and floor-to-ceiling city view. My firm had been in this building, its new home, for just four months, and I knew it was only a matter of time before a new partner claimed my office. But I was definitely enjoying it while it lasted.

I walked to shut the door behind Amanda.

"I'm no big shot just yet," I said, trying to put her at ease. I sunk into one of two low-lying leather chairs on either side of a small glass coffee table. She sunk into the other one, glancing up at me through those cute glasses.

"Aw man, and here I was thinking I'd hit the jackpot," she mused. "Don't tell me you're the cleaning crew and we're about to get kicked out of here."

"Not a chance," I said.

I had locked the door, and now I was feeling kind of weird about having done it. What was I expecting to happen in my office on a Monday afternoon? Were we going to go at it on the desk?

It wasn't a half-bad idea. But I understood the power dynamics here, and I did not want beautiful, blue-eyed Amanda to feel like I was pressuring her into anything she didn't want.

"This really is my office, and we have the place all to ourselves," I said to reassure her.

"Good," she said. She looked at me for a long moment, like a tiger eyeing its prey.

"So Amanda," I started, "if you're not in your 30s, how old are you?"

"Why, are you hiring?" She smirked, and then winked at me.

"I'm 25," she said finally.

"Twenty-five," I repeated.

I was openly checking her out now. Her breasts were small, but well proportioned. She had a slender, elegant figure.

She saw me eyeing her and stood up.

"Do I look 25?" she said, spinning slowly around. I admired her butt again as she turned. She struck a pose and met my gaze, batting dark lashes back at me.

"You look incredible." My voice was suddenly hoarse.

In reply, Amanda flexed her calves and slipped her feet from the ballet flats. Then she began to walk toward me slowly, her eyes locked on mine.

Her voice lowered, and all her words slowed and strung themselves out luxuriously across the still air of the office. "You know what, Mr. Lawyer?" she said, reaching for the top button of her shirt. "I ... have been ... thinking ... about you ... all ... damn ... day."

As she spoke, her bare feet plodded softly across the thick white rug. She stopped when she reached me, and stood with her knees touching mine.

"Oh yeah?" I said.

"Yeah." Her eyes narrowed at me. A woman taking charge.

The button fell loose. She reached for the second one.

"Do you mind if I ... get out of this?" Her voice was barely above a whisper, and trembling slightly.

"Not at all," I said. I leaned forward and slid my hands around her thighs.

"Good," she said. Then she added, "I need to be dressed appropriately for our ... workout."

My palms slid up across her butt, and my fingers closed around the cheeks. Her soft flesh dimpled under my grip, and then tightened as she flexed against my hands.

"Mmmm," I said.

I looked up into Amanda's half-lidded eyes. One by one, the rest of the buttons parted under her touch, the folds of the white Oxford shirt falling open in quiet sags around her pretty chest.

In that moment, nothing could have torn my eyes away from her. Her body swayed slightly as she stood there, her knees brushing mine. Then the final button parted and the shirt fell completely loose.

She wore a black plunging sports bra with grey accents, and her stomach was flat and toned, her skin smooth and creamy.

She shrugged casually, and the shirt fell from her shoulders, barely slowing as it slid down her arms and off, landing in a rumpled white arc around her bare feet.

She stood in front of me in bra and slacks, hands at her side, her breath coming in ragged, slow heaves as we studied each other. There was no movement or sound for a long time, each of us daring the other to move.

I thought about the window behind me that ran the entire length of my office, floor to ceiling, overlooking a bustling skyline of other offices, full of people all innocently going about their days. From the outside, I knew that if they were to look, they could see in to where Amanda now stood, half naked, waiting and willing to put herself on display—a voyeur's wet dream incarnate.

It was a huge turn-on.

I kissed her belly, kneading her butt cheeks with my fingers.

She ran her hands through my hair.

"What if I told you that I've wanted to do this for weeks?" she asked.

She'd seen me around the building? I suddenly felt bad that I had never noticed her before.

"Then I would tell you that you should have made your move much sooner," I growled against her skin.

"Mmmmmm. Oh really." She raised her hands to her chest, and in a single move, the bra came off over her head and her breasts spilled out from under it. They were small but beautiful, full and high and round, and her nipples stood out in delicate nibs against small, pale areolas.

My cock pulsed. I slid my hands up her sides and around her chest to clutch the twin mounds. She moaned and returned her hands to my hair, tousling it as I gripped her breasts, squeezing and rubbing.

My lips traced the skin of her belly, dropping soft, delicate kisses on her skin.

I looked up at her pretty face, flushed and rabidly sexy.

"Take off your clothes," she said.

She took a step back, eyes traveling the length of my body, down and back.

"Now," she said.

I complied, standing and slipping my blazer off and dropping it over the arm of the chair. I slipped my belt from the buckle and untucked my shirt. The jeans unbuttoned and slid down my legs with a little bit of protest.

Topless and barefoot, Amanda stooped to a crouch and helped me pull the jeans off over my feet. Then, before I could take the rest of my clothes off, she placed a hand on my stomach and guided me backward into the chair again.

"Sit," she said.

I settled down against the cushion, and her hands eased my cock free of my boxer briefs, sliding them partially down my thighs.

Her fingers were cool against me. She held my penis delicately, her eyes drinking in the sight of it, as her hand ran up and down.

"You have a gorgeous cock," she said.

It pulsed in her hand.

"It likes you," I said. She laughed.

I could hardly breathe. She was so gentle, and her hands so deft, that I was certain in that moment that she could bring me to orgasm just by holding me.

She leaned forward and put her lips against it, resting them there for a blissful moment before she kissed it and pulled back slightly.

"You know," she said, "I've never had sex in an office before."

I smiled innocently, "Oh, is that what we're doing? Having sex?" I placed a hand on her cheek and stroked it gently. She began to move her fingers up and down my cock, and my breath got shorter. "And here I thought ... you were just here for ... " She leaned forward and took the head of my penis between her lips, easing it into her mouth. "... a ... legal ... consult," I finished.

"Ugh." I threw my head back and closed my eyes, running a hand alongside her head to hold her while she sucked.

I was deep inside her mouth, her pretty head bobbing up and down, her soft, bare breasts pressing against my legs, when the phone on my desk rang.

"Shit."

"What is it?" She popped her head up.

I had to allow myself a laugh as I took in the tableau in front of me—the beautiful bare-chested girl kneeling on the floor of my law office in the middle of a Monday afternoon.

With a look halfway between apology and despair, I said, "I have to take this call."

"Oh. OK." She wiped her mouth with one hand and started to stand. "Do you need me to leave?"

I thought for a moment.

"No," I finally said. "It's just a conference call. I won't have to say much. Please. Stay."

She stood, smiling.

"OK," she said. "In that case..."

She unfastened her slacks and slid her thumbs under the waistband, pulling them down her legs and stepping out of them.

I blinked. The phone rang again.

I jumped across the room, glancing over my shoulder at Amanda as I answered the phone.

Our receptionist Sara's voice came over the line.

"Jeff, I have you dialed into your 4 o'clock conference call. Hang on a sec while I put you through."

"Thanks Sara."

With a click, a few other voices started in, mid-sentence, already involved in conversation.

Amanda walked toward the desk where I stood in only my dress shirt. She wore a delicate, cheeky pair of light blue panties. I stared at her, transfixed, as she crossed into the shaft of golden light streaming in through the office window.

"Hi everybody," I said into the phone. My eyes never left her body. "Sorry I'm late."

A chorus of hellos came through the phone speaker.

Amanda hoisted herself up to sit on the corner of the desk, directly in front of where I stood. Her knees rested on either side of my protruding cock.

The sunlight bathed her bare skin, carving its way down her curves like a knife, sharp edges tracing her cheek, neck, breasts, arms, making her two small nipples glow like Christmas lights, and casting the space between her thighs in a deep, tantalizing shadow.

Her toes wiggled against my legs as she ran her hands up my chest to clasp behind my neck.

We kissed, firmly, purposefully. Her lips drove every moment, twisting and sliding against mine.

The chatter of the phone call continued in the background, but for the moment, neither of us was listening.

Amanda's tongue slipped into my mouth and wandered around it, running along my teeth, twisting against my tongue, sliding across my lips.

I gave a soft moan. I'd never been kissed like this. Just Amanda's kiss alone was more intimate and passionate than any sexual encounter I'd ever had.

As we kissed, I reached up to unfasten the buttons of my shirt, slipping it from my arms and letting it fall to the floor. The only piece of cloth remaining on either of our bodies was Amanda's pair of light blue panties, which by now had become visibly moistened, a dark wet spot forming at the crotch.

Her hands dropped to her lap, and for a few quiet moments, only our lips touched. We slowed our kisses, parting our lips and re-engaging, soft gentle touches over and over. The subtle sensation made my whole body tingle and spark.

This girl was driving me crazy.

Finally, someone on the call addressed me, asking a question about some recent developments at the firm. I started to respond, when I felt Amanda's cool fingers wrap around my cock. I closed my eyes and swallowed desperately.

I did my best to talk normally. Once I'd gotten the words out, I lunged for the Mute button.

"You," I said. She bit her lip. "Turn around."

I was done with subtlety.

I pulled her roughly from the desk, grabbing her by her slender hips and spinning her, pressing a hand to her back to bend her forward against the desk.

"Yes," she said.

With one hand on her bare back, my other gripped the waistband of her panties and pulled them down over her buttocks to her knees.

I ran my fingers down her back. "Your skin is so smooth," I whispered.

With my foot, I slid the panties the rest of the way to the floor, leaving Amanda the pretty barista, finally, completely naked in my office.

She was a picture of feminine beauty. The stuff of paintings and poems.

The lips of her pussy flowered open in delicate deep pink folds between her parted thighs. I slipped a finger gingerly along her opening, feeling the moisture that had begun to build up.

I raised myself into position against her entrance. The sunlight on her skin gave her whole body a dramatic radiance.

She whimpered, begging.

"Please," she said. "Don't tease me."

Right then, someone on the call asked me about a brief my firm had filed the week before, and with a glance over her shoulder at me, Amanda dutifully reached forward and pressed the Mute button again, extinguishing its orange light so that I could respond to the questioner.

The moment she did, I plunged myself deep into her glowing, golden body.

Amanda threw a hand over her mouth to stifle a cry as I buried the entire length of my penis inside her.

It took Herculean restraint, but I managed to answer the caller's question, even with my engorged dick planted deep in the vagina of a 25-year-old brunette.

"Yes, that was taken care ... of," I managed, before I lunged for the Mute button again.

"Ugh!" We both groaned in unison. I grabbed one of Amanda's thighs and swung it up, stretching her long, slender leg across the desk.

"You have such a beautiful body," I said.

"Your cock feels so amazing inside me," she said. "Don't stop." She turned her head and looked me in the eye. "Don't. Stop."

I pounded into her, feeling her canal hug me with a warm, tight suction, strumming my shaft as I moved in and out.

I groaned. "You feel so good, Amanda."

My strokes were coarse and urgent. I reached out and gripped her shoulders as my thrusts picked up speed. Amanda's body began to flush, bright pink blotches on her pale skin as I carried her toward a climax.

"Jeff," she said. "Take me."

She reached back and slid a hand around my butt, pulling me to her and holding me inside as she arched her back, raising herself up to rest her head against my shoulder.

With her back against my chest, she reached behind my head and cradled it against hers. She lowered her leg from the desk, which had the effect of contracting her vagina, tightening her grip on me even more.

"I'm yours," she said. "Take me."

"Baby," I whispered. At this pace, I knew I didn't have long.

I wrapped her body in my arms, one hand groping for her breasts, the other sliding down to rub her clitoris. I pushed myself as deep into her as I could, and I held myself there, feeling her wrapped around me like a warm, wet cocoon.

She lowered her hand over mine and mashed my fingers harder into her crotch. Our bodies danced and swayed against each other, our thighs rubbing together, our limbs squirming and flexing.

If it were possible, I'd make this moment last a lifetime, I thought.

"Where do you want me to cum for you, Amanda?" I asked.

At that moment, her orgasm hit. She nuzzled her cheek against my chest and shuddered. I felt her vagina clench, and then soften. She shuddered again, hard. Her eyes shut tight, and her mouth fell open as her skin flushed deep red, her whole body shot through with a series of spastic tremors.