ManoJob
Manojob Pic(s)
The morning sun streamed through the tall office windows, catching the dust motes dancing in the still air like forgotten secrets. His gaze, warm and heavy, lingered on her from across the room, making the space between them feel both vast and intimate. She looked down, a slow, shy smile gracing her lips as she nervously twisted a pen between her fingers. The scent of his cologne, a familiar mix of sandalwood and spice, wrapped around her senses, a comforting and thrilling anchor. When his hand finally brushed against hers to take the document, a jolt of pure electricity shot up her arm, settling as a fluttering warmth deep within her chest. The low murmur of the city below faded into a distant hum, the world narrowing to this single, breathless moment. She could feel the ghost of his touch long after he pulled away, a phantom caress branding her skin. Her heart hammered a frantic, joyful rhythm against her ribs, a wild drumbeat echoing her silent yearning. In that quiet office, surrounded by the mundane, they had built a sanctuary of unspoken promises and stolen glances. It was a delicious, private pleasure that painted her entire world with the vibrant colors of newfound desire.
Comments
Post a Comment