white pants

She wore white pants. It was summer, after all.

He could see the outline of her thong and the firmness of her ass set him off. Her shirt and sandals were black.

her toe nails appeared freshly pedicured and red.

he knew he must have her.

she was about 5'6", blonde hair, bright green eyes that commanded his attention.

as she left the coffee shop, they exchanged a glance. Her smile was light, airy, girlish. He just grinned.

She arrived at her office building walking on air. their brief encounter had given her morning a pleasant start.

She entered the small, single bathroom just off the hall on the first floor.

as she examined her face and pondered the touch-ups she needed to be "just perfect" she heard a "click"

then warm breath on her neck and strong, firm hands around her waist.

his hands were warm against her skin as they made their way to her breasts, barely covered by her lacy bra.

she wiggled in resistance, but he was in control.

she feared screaming would anger him, she just wanted to break free

his hands pushed her white linen pants down and he admired her white thong, her tanned ass, her legs clearly toned from a regular workout

and she let out a low, churning moan as he penetrated her -- all hot and searing and opening -- forcing her to take him in

he was behind, her, his body weight pressing her stomach into the cool sink, and he was not saying a word

his thrusts were long, slow, forceful as if he wished to examine every inch of her inner flesh

she felt him get larger, his thick head was throbbing

and she heard him grunt as he began thrusting more quickly

then, she was standing there, hands against the sink, pants down at her ankles, thong displaced

a warm reminder running down her thigh

the door closed and she saw his eyes

the same ones she had seen at the coffee shop

and then he was gone