Lunch Time Rhapsody

Timing is everything. So is the sense of touch.

She was moving towards the microwaves when I saw her. I was next to the Coke machines talking with a buddy. She looked real nice and she smelled even better. We'd been making eyes at each other for the past few months and chatted a wee bit, but office romances are tricky.

I don't know why, but I held my hand out to guide her past me.

Her blouse was made of something silky, something deserving of a late night of long kisses and soft music. My fingers ran across her back as though we were dancing in her living room with the lights low. It was a motion akin to stroking a lover's back amidst a lost afternoon of long, sensuous foreplay. Both of us drifting like a feather in a stream.

It gave me chills touching her like that. She took in a quick breath.

"I'll talk with you later."

She gave me a look. "I hope so."

I would have kissed her had no one been around.