Scheherazade

Coming Home

Ania glanced again at the clock. 5.15. Desk cleared, emails answered, bag packed. In 15 minutes, she would be running down the office stairs and just catch the 5.35 bus from outside the building. The new blue dress looked good – lots of admiring glances today. Mentally, she appraised her body working down from her new black bob, across her raspberry-nippled breasts, down her flat brown tummy, to her tiny rectangle of freshly pruned hair, then down and up her long, smooth legs to the flushed lips. Soon he would be studying her, in just the same way. Her vulva swelled in anticipation, pressed hard down against the office chair. If she could just reach down and touch...