Disclaimer: I own nothing but guilt for eating way too much ice cream this weekend.

She knows he’s close. 

The movements, the sounds….the way his hands have molded themselves to her hips.  It all feels so familiar.

Except for the chair.  The chair is new.  His idea.  Well, her idea, too, but she was always afraid it wouldn’t be able to hold their weight, so she pushed the idea away.  Tucked it into a corner of her mind that used to be reserved for things that will never happen, but is now labeled things we will do someday.  Apparently, today is the day. 

The chair creaks and she stops moving.  His eyes are a little wider and there is a grin pulling at his lips.  Is he daring her?  A silent dare?  She’ll take it.  It feels too good not to take it.

She starts to move and he kisses her.  Hard.  It’s urgent and wet and she doesn’t have enough oxygen for it to last very long.  When she pulls back she keeps her eyes closed and breathes deeply.  His thumb runs across her bottom lip and now she’s close.  She just needs to reach down, under her skirt….

“Don’t.  Let me.”

She opens her eyes as he runs his thumb down her chin, between her breasts, down her stomach.  Down, down, under her skirt.  There.  Right there.

“Oh, fuck….”

She pulls him towards her as she comes.  His lips find her neck and he murmurs “I love you” against her damp skin as he comes, too.  They cling to each other as the chair creaks and creaks…

And then the phone rings.

He murmurs “I dare you.”

She answers the phone with an obscene, “Dunder Mifflin, this is Pam.”

It’s a wrong number.  They laugh.