It wasn’t the memories of the mind-blowing sex he and Marlene Henson had shared on his desk and in his chair. It wasn’t the sound of Henry talking...to himself in his office, his voice filtering through the central air ducts. He noticed the single, blood red orchid on his desktop. Mark walked over to his desk and set his briefcase down on the floor. The flower was beautiful, its color deep and rich. Several droplets of dew were shining on the delicate petals and folds of the flower. He picked it. I could not hear what was said, but as soon as he opened his mouth I knew the type - he thought he could talk his way through any situation to get what he wanted. I could guess what he wanted. He wouldn’t act offended or entitled for now, his body language stayed all friendly-like and I imagined his voice was the same. Erin told me his first words were, “Excuse me Miss... , this is a coed shower so I decided to wash up a bit. My name is Jack. Nice to meet you.” He let go of his dick and held. More

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