Received 12:15 PM: my hearts beating a mile a minute
Sent 12:16 PM: well, don’t die

*beep, beep, beep*

“Oh, that’s you,” he whispered as he looked up from his phone, “don’t die.” He chuckled, “I won’t.”

She kept her pace walking toward him as he turned on his toe and took off without letting her catch up. The floor was that industrial carpet – grey, with weird black and light tan lines, the type of carpet that everyone knows, but no one can accurately describe. It’s everywhere. Sometimes they even offer it in a green or blue shade of grey. She kept her eyes on the abandon cubicles to the right and left of him. She occasionally glanced at his work boots – beat almost to fuck, the way men’s work boots should be. At one point they were black, now they faded black stripped with ashy grey across the top and on the tip. The laces look settled. The kind of laces that haven’t been retied in years. Flashes of green and white rushed by as they passed the empty offices with windows. A peaceful snow was settling over the area. Reports said it would be over within the hour. It was as gorgeous as she could only ever hope to be.

He followed the path he’d previously taken, around the parameter of the retired office space. She followed him. Her booties – also creased, though not cracked – were black and healthily worn. Her slight ankles flashed as her jeans rose and fell with her step. She could see herself throwing her weight into her thighs trying to keep an understandable distance from him. She almost laughed at how silly she saw herself looking. She walked quickly, but even at her regular pace she would fall countless strides behind him. Legs can only be so long on someone so short.

She wasn’t nervous, but she also wasn’t sure why she was there. He was shaking in his old beat up boots, but he couldn’t explain what brought her there. Not that he was going to ask her. He knew enough. He knew she wanted sex; whether it was generally speaking or with him wasn’t important at the moment. It might never be important, but for right now it was enough. He wanted to find the room he had found before, but he made a wrong turn. He should know better than to think at moments like these. He turned around, “other corner,” he whispered out his mumble as he took the lead once more. He saw the door he sought and picked up pace. She joined him moments later.

He waited for her to enter and pass by him. She heard him close and lock the door as she crossed the neon mountain green carpet to the window. Several dead flies littered the windowsill. She offered them a restful sleep and lifted her head to the window. The snow was breathtaking. She was taken by surprise as he wrapped his arms around her, the left one instantly groping her pussy over her jeans, and kissed the back and sides of her neck. But the snow, she thought as she turned around and placed her mouth on his.

She threw her arms around his neck as she returned his kiss. He began tugging his pants away. He was surprised to watch her drop to her knees as his jeans hit the floor. He tangled his fingers through her short dark curls that bobbed right below her ears. He wanted to touch her, kiss her, all over, but he also didn’t want to get caught. He sampled her pussy with his fingers, his tongue, and entered her faster than he would have if they were anywhere else. When it was over, he helped her up, “there might be some dead fly on my back,” she said as she pulled her own jeans up. “Can you please brush it off?”

He stepped behind her and looked at the back of her shirt, “you’re all good,” he said lightly brushing his hand down her back. She felt bad for smushing the fly, even if it was already dead. She walked over to the window to pick up her phone. The snow had stopped as promised, 12:32 PM.

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