Chase Me, Harper

I want you to take me but I’ll make you beg

Yes, Harper, we both know where this ends. We’ve known it since the first time I slipped and touched your arm while we talked. Why were we even this close? Coffee, right, that kitchen isn’t big enough to keep your distance. And really, we both just wanted coffee, maybe a short conversation to go along. Right? Right.

But then you made me laugh. Not just that, you made me giggle. Your joke was good, but the expression in your face was better. You played — and I was game. Five minutes, you leaned against the counter and I steadied against the wall, just enough distance to avoid awkwardness.

You liked me, that much was obvious. I was a fresh face in your spheres, an exciting stranger who listened to what you had to say. Smiled, played along, told you things of myself. You liked that, especially when we started working together from time to time.

You were quick to adapt — and not half bad at this new game we were playing, whatever that was. You were helpful, sure, and people started joking about your transformation into a sociable person, but you and I we both dealt with it admirably. You kept your distance, but you opened up. I closed the distance a little, enough to make it obvious that you had nothing to fear from me.

We would sit together, talk about work and it felt like play. When others were there you had great fun playing with me, being overly nice and flirting with me so openly that it created the distance we needed. Everyone was aware that we were just goofing around, that we got along but overplayed everything else because no sane person would do this so openly? You would fetch coffee for everyone to stay on the safe side, but mine would have Susan, the one and only written on it. You would make sure that someone else distributed the cups so that everyone would joke about it.

When no one else was around you occasionally dared touch me, the briefest of moments. It wasn’t like you to bridge that gap, that much I could tell. It cost you, dearly. It wasn’t just a simple touch, it was you learning how to touch someone again after years of having forgotten how that feels.

You were bitter about the state of the world, cynical and paranoid all at the same time. You suspected I would turn around and report you to HR at any second, no really you expected it. You were confused that it wasn’t happening, that I kept playing along and that I kept smiling when you touched my arm to help me through a tough day at work. It messed with your mind, and I was there right next to you where you could have made a move that wasn’t all colleagues-getting-along. But you didn’t. Couldn’t, you were so sceptical and my breasts made you so paranoid, it was cute.

But I had given you enough room to breathe, this was now on you. You struggled, weren’t sure how to continue. You had exhausted your talents far beyond what you had been able to do with other women. Other women stop you at the hello stage, but I was still there after you had played your fun games and tricks that you never got to play with anyone else.

You couldn’t handle me, I wasn’t like the women you hated and neither like the women you fucked. I’m not easy, I’m not hard, all that’s hard is you — constantly. I can tell, just as much as I know that you feel me slipping through your fingers — and that you’re surprised how much you want to avoid that. For you women are disposable in a different sense, you probe them for a soul and heart and when you find none you move on.

But you can’t move on. You want to ask me out, no really your mind is two steps ahead. You want to fuck me, but right now your biggest problem is how to tell your family that you’re getting married. Then your mind jumps back to reality, you know that I won’t marry you, that I won’t even sleep with you, won’t even say yes when you ask me out. And so you end another day of hard work and go home with a confused boner. I like the thought of you standing there, in your empty apartment while you try not to think of me, to get me out of your head. Well, guess what, I’ll stay.

But I can see it in your eyes, today is different. I can’t say why, but you have wrapped your mind around what you want. I know exactly what that is, I can see myself reflecting in your eyes and the way your mouth twitches when you look at me — and then stare at the wall because it’s safer.

I won’t help you, but I won’t fight you either. I’ve spent too many nights alone, in my empty apartment, trying to get you out of my head. Just do it.

The office clears out slowly, but you and I linger. Some others, too, lots of work to go around these days. You have enough on your plate, so do I but really we both don’t have any more work in us tonight. You are spent, so am I and our brains are done being productive.

Joel leaves, we are alone now. Not completely, there’s still light at the end of the floor but far away. I wait five, then get up. I think I’ll leave now, I say, you staying long?

The look in your eyes, I could kiss you right now. You’re so cute, that longing, that confusion, and then for the shortest moment your eyes get hard, steely. You’ve made your decision, now let me have it.

Yes, I say, the moment your mouth shuts again. What even did you say? Beer? Bar? Movie? I have no idea, but I have a key to the basement storage room. I doubt I could make it anywhere but there, so let’s go. You are helpful again, I don’t have to carry my heavy bag and the door to the elevator opens without my doing. I press the button, you are confused why we’re going to the basement. Not for long though, as soon as I key the door open your friendly smile broadens into a horny grin. You understand now, don’t you?

I want to say something, but now that we have made our decisions you are quick to adapt again. Your fingers run over my shoulder, your eyes probe mine for whatever signs of evil your conscious brain still expects — and then your lips press on mine.

You’re a good kisser, I’ll give you that. Your tongue parts my lips, your fingers are in several places at once and none of them are decent or acceptable. You’ve made me your slut the moment you touched me, the moment your fingers went under my shirt and down the back of my pants at the same time.

You are impatient, but still too slow. I’m still partly dressed, can we please change that? I’m here, I’m almost naked, what more do you need from me? Oh god, finally my button, my zipper, my pants pulled down together with my panties in one swift motion. Just to my knees, really? Fuck, this table is hard on my elbows. Don’t, I want to stare into your eyes when you enter me, want to stare into the abyss and have it stare back. Wait, no, don’t stop now. Just take me. Not your fingers, you idiot, don’t you dare take your time with me.

Much better. So hard, so solid. Stab me, come on. Fuck me like a slut, fuck me like the slut that I am. I’m yours, so use me. Like that, more. Yes, lock my arms behind my back, grab my throat. Don’t you dare stop now. Damn, I needed that cock, it’s just like I expected. It’s perfect.

That shift in your stance, all your weight plunging into me now. Don’t lose your balance, I have none left and nothing to steady us with. God, I can’t keep steady, don’t let go. Oh god, keep.at.it. Yes, just one more, two, fuck don’t stop.

That table surface, so smooth, so cold against my cheek. My hair’s a mess, why am I surprised? You are still inside me, still going at it. Your hands on my hips, your thrusts, oh god so strong. I can’t take it, keep going. You gonna cum inside me? You are, aren’t you? Don’t care, as long as you don’t ask. Don’t break the spell, you’ve made it this far. Just use me, use me as you see fit.

Or pull out, splatter my ass, my whole back. Warm, no hot, splurt after splurt. Is that cum between my shoulder blades? Fuck me, that’s impressive. Did you, really? Yes, you did. That’s my ass you asshole, and that’s, fuck, that’s rough with your cum as lube. That’s…Okay that’s something else. Just one more thrust, two, three before you go limp. Why are you not softening up? Oh good, there I was thinking you’d fuck me a second time. Okay, just a short detour to make sure I understand who I am. I’m yours, still am after what you just did to me.

You pull my panties up, but leave my pants at my knees. Slap my butt again, I dare you. Again. Sure, I’ll pull my pants up myself, thank you. Where are my clothes? There you are, great.

Your smile, that grin is back, the way you look at me and see a toy to play with. Let’s play again, tomorrow, at the office when you give me a noncommittal smile and I’ll give you a snarky comment. Let’s play again, tomorrow after work, my place, your call.