Another Monday morning, his eyes open before the alarm even sounds, but he lies there, dreading the day. His life has become routine, he goes to work, he goes to the gym, he goes home. A vicious circle that he feels unable to deviate from. Today is the day.
He squares his shoulders as he climbs from bed, a smile playing on his lips by the time the hot spray of the shower starts to rinse away the sleepiness. He dries himself off, looking at his reflection in the mirror. His cock, wide awake as well, stands up proud and strong...he looks down, and assures his eager appendage that soon, very soon, it will find a nice warm wet place to nest.
Laughing out loud as he talks to his penis, he dresses carefully, paying a little more attention to detail than than he usually does. Splashing a touch of cologne on the back of his neck, he grabs his briefcase and keys and heads out to face the day.
She sighs as she lays in bed, the alarm jangling, just out of her reach. Promising herself that she will get up in just another minute. Finally with a burst of energy, she fairly leaps from bed, pounding the top of the alarm clock with a vengeance born of boredom.
It is Monday, again....sigh....and she is sure that it will be the same today as last Monday. Arrive at work, put on the coffee, check the messages, smile at her coworkers, none of whom she knows by name and surely not even one that could remember hers. She'll just grit her teeth until she can go home again.
She climbs in the shower, lazily soaping, shampooing and then drying off, moisturizing...same as every other day. She eyes her naked body in the steamy mirror. As a whole not bad, but her breasts are too large, they swing like pendulums from her chest, nipples always hard, hips rounded, pussy lips always puffy as if they had just been fucked. Not that she has had that pleasure in a long time, wistfully she wonders just how long it has been.
Twisting to see her ass in the mirror, it quivers, muscles rippling as if it knows she is trying to find fault with it. Sighing as she runs her hand over her quivering globes, she turns from the mirror...grabs the first thing in the closet and throws it on. Running fingers through her hair, she grabs her purse and keys and opens the door.
He drives to work, coffee in hand smiling, watching the cars whizzing by, he is no hurry. He feels great today, the beginning of the week...opportunity spread out before him. Even the thick traffic fails to knock the smile from his lips. He turns into his office building's underground car park and hums a tune all the way to the elevator.
She drives offensively, horn blaring at inattentive drivers, hating the commute, her radio blasting to drown out the road noise. Oblivious to the annoyance of the other drivers, she pulls into the car park at last. Shutting off the engine she leans back, letting some of the tenseness seep out of her.
Climbing wearily from her car she approaches the elevator. The man standing humming is vaguely familiar to her...same office, but she dislikes him this morning, his joyful humming grating on her nerves like fingernails on a chalkboard.
He sees her approach, the secretary from the office next to his...he can't quite put a name to her...he starts to smile, ready to offer up a good morning greeting when he sees the scowl, her flashing dark eyes.
He falters, his humming pausing briefly when the elevator doors open. He waits for her to get in, and she starts jabbing buttons before he can even move, the doors start to close and he shoves a foot in the way. He takes a long moment to appraise this woman, the elevator offering up that annoying buzz, her foot tapping with impatience. She leans forward, seizes his arm and pulls him in. So shocked he is by the contact , that he stumbles forward, landing on her, knocking her against the back wall.
Their lips a hairs breadth apart, he can smell her toothpaste, her eyes dark pools in which he is sure he could get lost. Unaware of the movement of the elevator they stay like this, eyes locked together, time seems to have stopped. Then suddenly her eyes show fire in them and her hands are pushing him away, he starts to say something when he realizes that the doors are once again open and there are others waiting to get in.
He stumbles to the other side as half a dozen people file in. His breathing is heavy and he steals a glance at her...her pink cheeks the only tell tale sign. He feels a tightness in his groin, shocked to find his penis growing hard as he stares at her.
Breathing a sigh of relief as the lift reaches his floor, he waits for her to leave, then quickly exits and hurries to his office, barely nodding to his own secretary on the way past. Sitting in his chair, behind his desk, his office spread out before him, his phone ringing and all he can think of is her.
They have worked next to each other for more than year and yet he cannot recall ever having exchanged so much as a greeting with her. How could he have overlooked this stunning and enigmatic woman who spends most of everyday right under his nose?
He tries to put her out of his thoughts, returning calls, catching up on his computer data logging, cross referencing numbers, the little daily tidbits that keep him busy, that usually make the day go faster. But time after time, those dark limpid eyes keep coming to mind.
Tossing down his pen, he stands up and slips into his bathroom. Checking himself in the mirror, he has decided to take action. Beat 'em or join 'em...but he must do something.
She sits at her desk, barely keeping her hand steady enough to write down the messages. She keeps feeling his breath on her cheek, the smell of him invades her nostrils and those eyes ...omg...those eyes....why did she never notice his eyes before.
