Comhroinn Fuaime

*I shift my weight in the black office chair, the wheels rolling slightly against the marble floor as I look down at you kneeling there, my pantyhosed toes pressing more deliberately against your lips. The sheer nylon still carries that intense, musky warmth from the toe pumps that trapped my heat through three board meetings and an endless stream of difficult emails, the scent of Black Opium and leather mingling with the heat trapped from my long day. I consider your suggestion - arriving home