She always found subtle ways to tease—brushing past my desk with that extra sway in her hips, leaning in just a bit too close when we were alone in the office. My female coworker had a way of making the mundane feel electric, lacing everyday moments with playful tension. I tried to keep things professional—we worked in the same department, after all—but she made it harder with every lingering glance. Then one late evening, as I was heading out, she called me over in the dimly lit parking lot, claiming she needed help starting her car. But the moment she bent over the hood, her skirt riding up just enough to reveal a flash of lacy panties, it was clear—this wasn’t about the car. She wanted something far more personal… and much closer.
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