Isabel walks up

As I walked to the elevator, Isabel from down the hall came out and walked with me. She was a gorgeous Latina with an hourglass figure: big chest, narrow waist, and big hips.

“Hey, how are you doing?” she asked.

"I'm doing great," he replied, suddenly aware of how close she was standing. Her perfume—something floral with a hint of vanilla—made his head swim pleasantly.

"Really great," Isabel said, her voice dropping to a whisper. "I've been meaning to tell you something."

The elevator doors opened, revealing an empty car. They stepped inside, and she pressed the button for the lobby without asking where he was headed.

"What's that?" he asked, watching her reflection in the mirrored wall. Her eyes met his with an intensity that sent a shiver down his spine.

"I've been having the strangest dreams about you lately." She turned to face him directly. "Really vivid ones."

His heart pounded as he realized the wish was working faster than he'd expected. "Dreams about what?"

"About us." She took a step closer. "About doing things I've never done before."

The elevator suddenly felt much smaller. He could feel the heat radiating from her body, could see the flush spreading across her chest.

"Like what?" His voice came out rougher than intended.

Isabel smiled, biting her lower lip. "Like this." She reached up and pulled him down into a kiss that was anything but innocent.

His hands found her waist, drawing her closer as the kiss deepened. She moaned softly against his mouth, her body pressing against his with unmistakable intent.

When the elevator dinged at the lobby, they broke apart reluctantly.

"We should continue this somewhere more private," she whispered, her eyes dark with desire.