Once Upon A Time in a Govt Office

I sit there, antsy and shy. My mates take places around me, whingeing.

“What now?”
“How long to wait?”
“Boring la …”

I look up. I see you. Long hair, short skirt. Tight, short skirt.
Your face sweet underneath those loose curls.

A strand strays over your forehead. You flick it back up with a toss of your head.
I stare. You bend over your work and continue.

You have soft dusky skin.
Your eyes shine, a wicked twinkle glinting as you turn to smile at your colleague.
Your perfect teeth flash white in the gloom of the office – the sun has yet to burn the sky.

My eyes never leave your face.
I reply to my friends with the side of my mouth.
I keep still, my eyes locked on yours – you still don’t see me.

You twirl your hair, fiddling with your pen.
No rings on your fingers. Yet I know you’re no untried maiden.
Your body speaks to me, the language of sways and curves. Of swishes and flicks.
It knows the ways around this world.
And about peaks and valleys
About teeth that nibble gently.
And those that bite.

You sigh and sit up, bored with your work. My friends laugh at a joke.
Your eyes flick up, shoots across the room.
They probe, they dance from one face to another.
They find mine.

We lock eyes.
Yours shy away for an instant, then flick back to stare at me. Full on.
Game on.

The room grows warm – you look away, pretending to go back to the papers on your desk.
You fiddle almost frantically with your pen. You’re thinking hard – what did you see?
You lift your face but you carefully look away from me.
You try to catch me in the corner of your eye.
My eyes never leave your face.

You look up, your eyes dart every which way.
But mine.
You affect a bored look as you start to look down, back to your work.
But you sneak a glance at me at the very last second.
My eyes, now hot, never leave you.
At all.

I see your excitement grow.
You press lightly on your tummy as you pretend to resume your checking.
You start slightly as you realize you’re taking too long to process that form. You slide it into the Done tray lazily, hoping your colleague didn’t notice.

You steal another quick peek at me.
Do you think I would look away?

You lay down pen on desk and raise both hands to your hair. You flick them back as you arch your back.
Thrusting that bosom into my focus. And to show me your graceful neck.
My eyes flick but they stayed; steadfast on your face.

Your excitement arouse your mind,
You now engage your colleague in conversation,
A witty one – so you can laugh; letting me know your sounds.
Laughing, squealing ... gasping.

You throw back your head and smile brightly,
Displaying your soft throat,
Look, no love bites.
Yet.
I never look away.

You abandon all pretense of work, talking rapidly in conversation with your co-workers, desk clutter all ignored.
You affect gaiety, handling 3 male colleagues at a time. I’m witty and I have a sense of humour, your gestures say. Eloquent in their graceful arcing through the air.
I hear you. I see you.
I lift my head up but my eyes never leave your face.

My hot eyes have been on your body for more than 2 hours now. You feel it pressing down on you. It suffocates you. Yet you love it.
Your breasts feel fuller, heavier. You glow.
That feeling in the pit of your stomach descends.
In a southerly direction.

You sway your hips. A careless gesture. Meaning nothing. Signifying everything.
My eyes lock in, devouring the movement.
I grow restless but my eyes stay still.

It’s lunch time. At the periphery of my world my friends awake.

“Eh, time makan. Ko tido ke?”
“Eh, ko nak makan kat mana …”

The voices die away. I see you.
You get up, but you don’t head out the door. Instead you park yourself at an empty desk near the exit.

You keep up your chatter but you look at me.
We stare.
You lick your lips.
Wetting your lips.
Deliberately.
And your lips grow wet.
And my eyes burn into yours.

I stand up. You get up too. You move to the exit.

You are talking with your colleague but your eyes keep drifting to lock in to mine. I check my stride, waiting for a friend. You settle a shapely hip on the desk beside the exit.

My friend comes up beside me. We start walking to the exit. You lift your leg up the desk.
Your hip flows to your thigh to your shapely calf to your fuck-me stilletoes. To your pretty painted toes.
I know you’re flowing too. Your eyes are too bright, heavy lidded - your lust weighing on your vision. You chew absently on your pen. Your tongue snakes within an open wet mouth. Your eyes never leave mine now.

Your colleague calls you but you do not hear. I know you hear only the rush in your head. And the heat of your lust. You hear nothing else.

Your eyes lock in desperately with mine. They burn with need. I see it.

My eyes flick past.
Game over.