The afternoon had dragged on. The sun was completing its daily surveillance of the world outside his office window, while he continued to work on a particularly troublesome report, determined to submit it before he left for the day. Blake’s colleagues had left in ones and twos, with brief but polite goodbyes, to enjoy whatever it was they did during their non-working hours. By the time the sun was winking at him from the bottom corner of the window sill he was, like so many nights before, the only person on the entire seventh floor of the building.
Dragging his attention away from the computer screen for a moment, Blake briefly reviewed his notes on the nearby laptop in an attempt to estimate how much longer he had to go until he could call it a day. Just a few more points to clarify.
He was so caught up in his near-complete report that it took a while to register that a muffled sound had broken through the silence from outside his office door. It was several seconds before he looked up towards his door and realised that it was not a sound he recognised. Probably the cleaners, he thought, making an effort to concentrate again. Another sound, a sort of thud alongside the familiar click of a door opening and closing. Another glance at the clock and Blake realised that the cleaners weren’t due for at least another hour.
His curiosity getting the better of him, Blake left his report mid-sentence and walked over to the doorway. Leaning out through his open door he peered down the corridor. The lights had dimmed automatically, as they did at seven each night, leaving visible only the outline of each of the six other office doors that lined the corridor. Stepping out through his door, the blue carpet beneath his feet appeared soft grey in the dull light, as did the company logo, which he knew to be green, beside the names on each door. The only sound came from his shoes landing softly on the floor and his breath, as he walked towards the staff amenities, past each of the closed doors and empty work spaces.
It was remarkably cooler, and becoming cooler still, the further he walked from his office. He reached the end of the corridor and stood in front of the tall windows of the lunch room. Nothing to see; empty seats nobody could be bothered returning to the table, a flickering blue light in the vending machine and someone’s lunch box left behind on the nearby bench. An indoor plant stood in the corner of the room, its sad, neglected leaves drooping down to the floor.
It seemed the source of the noise was to remain a mystery, but it was most likely somebody who’d forgotten something and returned to their office to retrieve it, entering and exiting the seventh floor with a sense of urgency, eager to get back to their private life. Blake sighed and let his thoughts return to the job at hand as he turned and walked back towards his office.
Two doors from his own, Blake’s thoughts were composing the last few sentences of his report when several things happened at once. Firstly, he noticed with a slight start that the door he was walking past was open, and he was entirely sure it had been closed a minute ago. Secondly, he became aware that he was not alone on the seventh floor, an awareness brought about by the sudden rush of movement and gust of cool air that came from the open doorway. Blake peered into the dimly lit room in an effort to identify the moving figure, but then felt himself taking a body hit from the warm skin of something that had thrown itself at him with such force that he was thrown back against the locked door behind him. His back hit the door so hard the wooden frame cracked and splintered as the lock broke away from the door jam, flinging the broken door wide open, allowing his body to fly through the now-vacant space, along with the body of whoever had thrown themselves at him. There was no time to brace himself for impact. He crashed to the floor, landing flat on his back, his lungs emptied of air with a sudden gush, leaving him winded, gasping for breath.
He felt the warmth and the weight of another body pressing down on top of him, his breath still stifled as he tried to make sense of his predicament. The body on top of him hadn’t stopped breathing; regularly, deeply, against the side of his face. Their skin smelled of salty sea air, and of an exotic spice he couldn’t quite remember the name of. Yet, the body was as familiar to him as his own. Karanda. Her hands worked swiftly to remove his shirt, ripping every button off in one swift movement. Dazed, and knowing little else apart from her aroma and her powerful will, his own hands found their way to either side of her beautiful face, bringing her to a sudden complete pause, her face mere centimetres from his own.
Slowly becoming more alert, he studied her deep brown eyes. It had been such a long time since he had looked into her eyes and felt her warm skin against his. He had missed this. Her breath caressed his cheek and he felt intoxicated by her scent. His hands moved from her face, down her neck, sliding across her broad shoulders, feeling every curve, every muscle, down her chest to where her naked breasts were heaving above him. She writhed as he slowly moved his hands over her upper body, then she arched her back, pressing her most intimate parts against his groin, causing him to breath in sharply. He heard the familiar sound of her own intake of breath, filling her lungs with air, the way she always did while she was building up to the gradual climax he knew was coming. He felt her long arms encircle him and her legs wrap around his own in a way no human woman could. He held her and kissed her, teasing her tongue with his, then groaned loudly as he felt his erection being sucked into her tight opening, slowly, just the tip at first, before it was swallowed entirely inside her.
There was a vague notion, inside his mind, that someone could walk in and witness something that had never been witnessed on the entire planet before. And there was the wicked sense of attraction that he felt, for this being from another world, who didn’t have the same sense of danger that he felt. But, more than anything, there was his need to have her, to make love with her, in ways he had never made love to another (human) woman in his life.