“I’m the only Amy in the department.” “Well,” hands on hips, Marsha pursed her lips, “I do know you.” “You do?” “By reputation....Your magazine ads are dynamic, fiery. I love them.” “Do you?” “Yes.” She squinted at Amy. “You’re not what I expected.” “I’m not at my best in lifts.” “Evidently. So why didn’t you take the stairs? I mean, twelve floors is quite a lot, but you’re young and fit.” Amy bit her lower lip. “Oh, I see, it’s not just the lift… vertigo? Oh dear, our architects had it. He wasn’t her uncle, but the fantasy that thought invoked made his member swell with arousal.Her maroon-colored dress was hiked up to her waist, exposing her slit with its neatly trimmed pubic hair. She still wore the upper part of her dress, and her bra underneath hadn’t even been loosened. Her state of dress spoke to the urgency of their lovemaking. His slacks lay on the floor where she had pushed them. He still wore his white cotton button-down shirt. She had slid her pink undies down to her. More

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