Days later and I'm still utterly confused.

Her true motives elude me but I have cobbled together a few possibilities for why this happened, for why she happened to me.

Maybe she did it to punish me, retribution for the way I was treating her. To show me how little power I actually have. Maybe she did it because she knew it was what I wanted all along. Maybe she wanted it herself.

Each scenario frightens and excites me more than the next.

The only thing I know with any degree of confidence is that I want her again. When I close my eyes, it is all I see. Her mouth - licking me, tasting me, making me come.

I don't know if I hate her more or less. Maybe I never hated her at all.

My game plan since it happened has consisted of subtle avoidance. If I don't see her, she won't know how humiliated and embarrassed she has made me.

The thing that shames me the most is how easily she figured it all out. All she had to do was give me head and I shut the fuck up.

I hate myself.

It is late as I sit on the small couch in my office reading through a brief. While all these thoughts undoubtedly flit about somewhere in the ether of my mind, I've actually been able to focus for the last few hours. Not an insignificant achievement.

A timid knock on the door. So soft I don't answer right away, not sure I actually heard it at all.

Then again.

"Come in" I say.

The door opens slowly, only a sliver, and she appears. Since the couch sits next the door, we're quite close already. Our eyes meet and for a moment I think I can see something in her face, some evidence of something, but it passes quickly.

"Hi" she says.

I still can't read her.

"Hi" I return casually. I'm skeptical.

I'm about to ask her why she is here when she steps the rest of the way in and turns her body to the door as she pushes it closed, pressing her hand against the frame so it shuts quietly while the hand that has been gripping the knob slips down to the lock.

The click of the lock sets off a flood of wetness between my legs.

I shift in my sit, releasing the leg that has been folded beneath me. I let the brief fall to the side and try to prepare myself.

She walks around in front of me and slowly descends to her knees, her hands sliding up my legs.

As much as I have craved her touch, I feel the anger rise within me. Who the fuck does she think she is? Who the fuck does she think I am? Her arrogance infuriates me. She must find me so pathetic. It is true, I am, but I take umbrage with her knowing it.

I keep my knees together, offering her nothing, and glare at her through my glasses.

Either she doesn't care about my petulance or she doesn't notice it. She hasn't looked at me since she first entered. She pushes my skirt up towards my waist, as much as she can since I don't offer her any help. Her fingers on my skin leave a trail of fire.

In the same motion, she pulls my thong down and off. I don't stop her.

She looks up at me innocently as if she isn't to blame for this.

I want to slap her but now she pushes my knees apart and I feel the cool air hit me. I watch her eyes glaze over.

And then I'm pulled forward on the edge of the couch, spread before her, my pussy inches from her mouth. The scent of my arousal fills the air.

She pauses and the longer she waits, the wetter I become. I can feel my clit tighten and twitch and I know she can see it.

And then her mouth is on me. Long broad licks with the flat of her tongue through my slick folds. I hold back the moan in my throat but I can hear the sounds of my labored breathing. Over and over, she glides through me.

I want to fall back against the couch and close my eyes but I struggle to stay as I am, not wanting to give in. Not wanting to show her how much I'm enjoying this, how much I want it. It is silly, I know, fighting these small, meaningless battles when I've already lost the war.

Her tongue circles my opening and I know I'm panting.

I wonder if she'll fuck me this time.

She doesn't.

Instead, she gathers the moisture she has found and drags her tongue upward to scrape against my now throbbing, swollen clit. She flicks it hard and my hips jerk forward without my consent.

Her hands that have been resting on my inner thighs tighten their hold and her fingernails dig into my flesh.

I gasp.

I never want this to stop, I admit to myself.

Now she tongues my clit softly, almost painfully lightly as I try not to writhe before her to increase the contact.

She's teasing me.

Despite my best attempts to resist, my back straightens up and I arch into her. I show her how much I need her when my hand slips into soft shoulder-length auburn locks before gripping tightly and pulling her into me. She pauses for a second and I panic, thinking she might stop altogether.

Without warning, she sucks my clit between her lips and I moan loudly. It is startling in the quiet office. I feel her sigh against me and then lick me with renewed fervor.

It isn't fair. She kneels before me as if in supplication but I'm the one begging.

Strong, firm licks against my clit as I twitch and cry out freely, not caring for the moment how I sound to her. I can feel my wetness dripping down, coating her chin.

I'm whimpering.

I think about asking her to fuck me.

Before I can, she flicks hard against my clit and sucks me into her mouth. I can feel the pressure start low in my belly and radiate outwards. I'm screaming out my orgasm, pushing myself into her mouth.

And for a few moments, it is perfect.

But as I start to come down, I feel the embers of my shame.

To add insult to injury, she continues to lick me. She takes her time, lapping up the juices that have collected around my spasming, neglected opening. Then long, luxurious strokes up and down my slit as I continue to shake and tremble before her. My body is not my own. It is completely hers.

I'm mesmerized watching her clean my pussy with her tongue, my hand still in her hair but powerless to direct anything, just along for the ride.

Before I know what is happening, I'm coming again, hard and fast. I almost didn't even feel it sneak up on me before it was there. Nanoseconds before I crash into oblivion, I hear her groan. Finally, some indication she is enjoying this.

My head is thrown back and I try to focus on my breathing. I take note of the ceiling's pattern but I'm having a hard time keeping my eyes open.

She still hasn't stopped.

My head falls forward and I look down at her. I think she senses it because she slows her strokes until she deserts me altogether. I release my hand from her hair.

She pulls down my skirt almost tenderly. It feels like pity which incenses me. I want to tell her to leave but I can't.

She uses my legs as leverage to pull herself up. For one brief moment our eyes meet and I think she might kiss me. My heart pounds in my ears.

She doesn't.

A second later, she is gone.