"Hey, you Marshall?"

That was the first time I saw her. She flew in the door, waited for my grunt of agreement, threw the parcel on my desk and disappeared again.

I can pretend now that I noticed her sparkling smile that first visit, but really I saw her breasts, tightly held in the company t-shirt, and those legs. Long, dark and topped with a short skirt, swirling about her as her butt disappeared out of my office.

As noted above, my name is Marshall. I'm an admin manager for a printing company. The office I share with the shipping manager is in a separate building from the rest of the company. Vance is seldom here, so I think of this as my space.

A messenger from the main office drops off any mail or other items I need every morning. The old messenger had been away on sick leave for a week or two, and I had been picking my stuff up myself, but they must have put the girl in the hotseat for the day.

At least, that's what I thought until the next morning.

"Hey Marshall. Sorry about yesterday. I was in a bit of a rush. Long black, right?"

She was standing there again, having flown in the door even more quickly than yesterday. Legs longer than I remembered, and this time I'm proud to say that I did see her sparkling smile, and her breasts. The legs were just as long as yesterday, the skirt just as short.

"Uh, yeah, hey, how did you know that?"

"I made enquiries. I knew I'd be back today. I need somewhere to stop for a few minutes, and wondered if I could drink my coffee here?"

"Oh, of course. Make yourself at home."

"Here, have the coffee." And she handed one of the steaming cups to me, stepped back and hoisted herself on the desk opposite mine. Popping the lid from her coffee, she spun back to face me, took a gulp of hot liquid, and continued her inexorable one-sided conversation.

"Laurice. That's my name."

"Laurice?"

"Yep. But no one here calls me that. They all call me Milo."

"Milo?"

"Yes, Mr Echo. Milo. You know, dark and full of energy."

"Ri-i-i-ght...", doubtfully.

"And hot."

"Uh huh."

"Sweet too." And the smile broadened. She was. Dark, hot, sweet and full of energy. And sexy as Hell. The picture was intoxicating.

"It's okay with you, that they call you Milo?"

"Oh, yeah, I love it."

"Yeah?"

"Oh, yeah. I always seem to be short of time and moving pretty fast, so I'm sure that's where it comes from. They don't mean anything nasty about the dark part, I'm sure."

"That's okay then... Milo."

"Great. Now listen, are you always here at this time of the morning?"

"Mostly, why?"

"Well, like I said, I need somewhere to have a coffee. This is really convenient, but I hate to have coffee alone. Can I make this a habit?"

"Oh, sure. How long are you filling for Pete for?"

"You haven't heard?"

"Heard what?"

"Pete's not coming back. I'm his replacement. And I'm loving it so far."

"Oh. Hey, that's great. He was a grumpy old bastard anyway."

"I promise to improve on the service."

"You already did. He never smiled once."

"No? I couldn't do that."

And the conversation went on. Milo was the epitome of effervescence, bubbling over with enthusiasm for everything. And one other thing. I know I shouldn't have noticed, but I couldn't help it. The way she was sitting on the desk facing me, and the combination of short skirt and long legs, combined with the casual way her knees were spread, meant that I could see her bright green panties quite clearly. I wondered how to tell her, but couldn't think of an appropriate way. I've always had a thing for panties, and this girl was gorgeous in any case. I was glad my own privates were well hidden under my desk, as my interest would have been readily apparent otherwise.

After a few more minutes of small talk, and a constantly shifting view of Milo's intimates, she jumped up from the desk, and prepared to leave.

"Nice to meet you Marshall. I'll see you again tomorrow. Long Black again?"

"That would be great. I'll get some cash though, I can't have you buying me coffee every day."

She swirled out the door again, and I got back to my work, but kept thinking how much I was looking forward to the next morning, and another coffee with Milo.

And the next morning was much the same. She sailed in the door, dropped the bag on my desk, handed me a coffee, and plonked herself on the desk. For a few minutes as she sat there, her legs were crossed, and her short skirt covered her thighs in relative decency. But as she relaxed, and chatted with me, her legs uncrossed, and then spread a little, and behold: panties. Yellow this time. Not a subtle pastel shade. Bright lemon. I was distracted, and I'm sure my conversation skills weren't up to scratch.

Nonetheless, as she finished her coffee, she bounced up, tossed the cup in the bin near her feet, thanked me for my company, and left again, stopping only to accept the cash I had put aside for my share of the coffee purchases for the week.

The next morning, Vance was in the office. Milo flew in as usual, as though she were strung on a wire, and stopped suddenly as she saw Vance. She pulled a chair out from beside his desk, and sat on it. Now something was different. Milo was still bubbling and friendly, but as she chatted with Vance and I, her manner was more reserved. She kept her legs crossed the whole time she was there, and the conversation seemed to be on a lighter level. Coffee finished, she bounced out of the room again, leaving a noticeable gap. I couldn't wait to see what would happen on Friday.

The morning started with Vance in the room, and I began to wish he would leave, and let me be alone with Milo. As it happened, he left just as she arrived, and they said hi/bye in the doorway. Milo dropped coffee and bag on my desk again, and took her normal seat, perched on Vance's desk, coffee in hand, talking flat out, and her legs again spread carelessly in front of me. Blue, by the way. Sort of sky blue, but bright. Huge contrast with the long dark legs.

Following this visit, I had the weekend to think about what had been happening, and decided that I needed to tell her about my view of her privates, as I liked her company, but couldn't continue with things they way they were. I could barely converse with her as I stared at her brightly covered crotch.

Monday morning arrived as it always does, and I dragged myself out of bed and onto the bus. Reaching the office I confirmed my intention to confront her when she came in, and then Vance turned up. He didn't seem to have any intention of leaving, and he was still there when Milo showed. She once again placed herself in a chair, sat politely and drank her coffee. Obviously I couldn't say anything about it with him there, so I put off my confession until the next day.

So here we were, back to Tuesday. Vance was out of the office, and Milo showed up at the normal time. Coffee and bag dropped to my desk with a smile, and leapt up on the desk again.

"Oh, I'm glad Vance isn't here today Marshall. He's nice and all, but I prefer to have my coffee just with you, you know."

"You do?"

"Oh, yeah. Also, I can hardly show off my panties with him sitting here, can I?"

"Uhh, what? What are you saying?"

"Oh, come on. None of that. I saw you looking at me."

"You.. but I uhh..."

"It's alright Marshall. I like you looking."

"You do?"

"Oh yeah, it makes me hot."

"Hot?"

"You really are an echo sometimes, aren't you? And wet."

"Wet? You're saying I'm wet?"

"No, I'm wet!"

"You're wet? Oh!"

"Oh yeah. You mind?"

"Oh, no, not at all. I'm just surprised. Shocked really."

"You like the way I look?"

"Oh, I do. I do."

"I've got another surprise for you today Marshall."

"Umm, you have? I'm still in shock here."

"Well, calm down then. And then ask me nicely to open my legs."

"Sorry? Ask you?"

"Yeah, ask me if you can see what colour my panties are today."

"Uh, okay. Umm, would you - uhh - show me?"

"Sure." And she parted her knees just a little.

"Oh, ah, I can't quite tell. A little more perhaps?"

And then, just as Milo was slowly moving her knees apart, the door swung open, and Vance rushed back in. Milo was obviously nervous, and slammed her knees together, jumped off the desk, and grabbed her bag.

"Gotta get going guys. See ya tomorrow." And she was gone.

I could have killed Vance, but he never even noticed. He grabbed a folder from the top drawer of his desk, and rushed out the door again, slamming it behind him in his rush. My erection was quite painful in its claustrophobic enclosure, and I struggled to rearrange space in my trousers before sitting there and pondering the entire episode. Eventually I realised that I would learn nothing more by sitting here thinking, and returned to my work, determined that tomorrow would provide less questions, and more answers.

So. Wednesday. Office. Ten AM. Waiting. With Vance, worse luck. Milo was all smiles and politeness again. Ditto Thursday, by which time I was ready to have Vance reassigned. Anywhere.

Finally, Friday morning, Vance was out of town. The early morning clicked by slowly, until 10AM arrived again.

And she burst in the door, all efficiency, rush, smile.

"Alone Marshall?"

"Yeah. Vance is away for the day."

"Oh. Cool. Here, take the coffee."

"Fuck the coffee. Don't we have more important things to discuss?"

"No need for a panic Marshall. Sit here and drink this. I'll lock the door."

"Why would you want to do that?"

"I don't want to be interrupted mid-performance again, that's why."

"Oh, okay. I can't keep up with you."

"Just relax. I'll get you through."

"I'm almost sure you will."

"Almost? What an insult." But the smile was still on her face, and the short skirt on her legs. She sat in her now accustomed place, and grinned at me again. "Where were we?"

"Umm, you were... umm.."

"Oh, I remember. You were asking me to show you my panties, weren't you?"

"Well, yeah. Was that really what was happening?"

"Sure was. Ask me then."

"Okay. I'm beyond embarrassment now. Show me your panties Milo."

"Say please."

"Please."

"How's that?"

"I can't see. A little more?" My manhood was fighting for space again as she slowly parted her knees just for me.

"How's that then?"

"Oh, I can't... oh, are they black?" I was vaguely disappointed after all the bright colours over the last week.

"Nope. That's the surprise. Look again."

"Okay, I... Oh. You're ah, you're not wearing any."

"Nope."

"God!"

"Listen, I can just walk out of here now, and no one would know anything, but I don't want to. I want to make love to you. Are you up for that?"

"Ah, yeah. Well, of course, but when?"

"Now."

"Now?"

"And here."

"Now and here? But this is my office."

"And the door is locked. Vance is out of town. I'm very horny. Say yes."

"I... uh, well... yes."

"Oh, good. Come over here, lover boy."

I did. I walked over to the desk, and as she stood up, I took her in my arms. We kissed passionately, standing there by the desk, my nervous hands lifting her skirt and massaging her dark butt as we ground our groins together, only my clothing between us.

At some time in the kissing and caressing session, I took control. Slowly lifting Milo's t-shirt over her head, I took her dark nipples alternately in my mouth, licking and pulling at them gently with my tongue and teeth, and then flicked off the flimsy skirt, leaving my dark angel only in her shoes and socks.

Milo reached down and expertly undid my belt and trousers, and then tucked her hand inside my underpants, cupping my testicles with one hand, and stroking the length of my penis with the other. My pants fell to the floor and suddenly there was nothing between us. Nothing except my hesitation.

"Turn me around Marshall, and take me from behind. I want you inside me quickly. No need for preliminaries."

And I did. I spun her around until she was facing Vance's desk, her hands flat on the top, her butt thrust out toward me.

"Spread those knees a little Milo. I know you're good at that."

And as she allowed a little space between her thighs, I gently pushed my penis toward her waiting wetness. With a little assistance from her willing hands, I was poised at the opening in no time. Tenderly I applied some pressure, and I slid neatly inside her, tight but slippery, hot but wet.

As she lowered herself over me, I reached in front of her and took hold of her breasts again, tweaking the nipples gently. Her hands fell forward onto the desk and her butt thrust hard against me now, and I felt my hardness impale deep inside her. The slight change in angle meant that we fitted together perfectly, and we began the ancient dance.

As I moved slowly in and out, my movements matched by Milo's thrusts and grunts of pleasure, my hands explored the front of her body, returning from time to time to her sensitive nipples, kneading the firm breasts in both hands, scraping my finger nails across her taut buttocks. Her dark body took on a sort of sheen as we began to sweat with the effort, my staying power amazing me.

Finally, the combination of sensations was too much for both of us. I could feel Milo's muscles stiffening around me, her tissue objecting to all the friction, the pace quickening with the impending impact. As my hands felt their way gently down through her dark wiry thatch to the dampness of her clitoris, I stroked gently around the area, edging closer to the little nubbin until my wet fingertip slid almost without pressure across the top. That was the final charge, and Milo pressed her body hard against me, her vagina closing hard around me as the muscles reacted, and her mind lost control finally, her orgasm shaking her whole body, and setting off a similar reaction in mine.

My manhood, deep inside her hollowness, pumped copious quantities of semen inside her, the culmination of the two weeks of fantasy, and this session of unbelievable lovemaking.

We stood still for a moment, muscles sore and twitching, our sweat intermixed, white and dark bodies intimately entwined for a magic moment.

And then suddenly Milo was extricating herself from me, grabbing her skirt and t-shirt and dressing quickly as she kissed my face.

"Gotta go Marshall. I'll get fired if I'm not careful."

"Oh, you can't go now. We have to talk."

"Not today. Kiss. You'd better get dressed Marshall. What if someone comes to visit?" And she smiled that wonderful smile again.

And she grabbed her bag and raced out the door. I was a wreck then. I slowly dressed myself again, tucked my tired no-longer erection in my pants, and tried to continue my work. But I couldn't concentrate. Images of the impossible event kept coming back to my mind. In the end I went home early, and spent the entire weekend thinking about what might happen on Monday morning.

And you know what happened? Just when I expected Milo to front up with a coffee, and possibly another lovemaking session, Peter came in. In his formerly familiar grumpy mood, he dumped the bag on my desk and turned to leave.

"Hey, hold on Pete? What are you doing here?"

"Hey? Where did you think I was? A few days sick leave with the flu, and you think I should disappear off the map?"

"The flu? I was told you'd left for good."

"Me? No such luck. If only I didn't have to work in this hellhole..."

"But what about Milo?"

"Milo? Oh, the temp?"

"Temp?"

"Temp. Must you repeat what I say?"

"Sorry. Well, where is she now then?"

"Now? Gone, I guess. Wherever temps go..."

And that was the last I heard. He turned and left. I sat for a while in stunned silence, and then realised I hat a lot of work to catch up on. The mystery of Milo could wait until later in the day.

Turning to the bag of mail on my desk, I upended it, and looked at the contents, intending to sort through it all, when a small box caught my eye. It was a little bigger than a pack of cards, and was covered in some almost psychedelic wrapping paper. Numerous bright colours mixed in a determined but seemingly random pattern.

I lifted the box from the pile of mail, and looked more closely. It had come through the postal service, addressed to me. Pushing all the other mail aside, I put the box down on the desk and tore the wrapping off. Inside was a smaller box and a note. I picked the note up first.

It said: Dearest Marshall. Please forgive me for leading you on over the last two weeks. I found you most attractive and wanted a way to have you without any sort of commitment. Our tryst on Friday was the best sex I've ever had in my life, but I cannot continue to see you. I have a regular partner, and cannot risk our marriage further. Many thanks. Oh, the box contains proof that this message is from me.

Dropping the note soundlessly to the desk, I picked up the small box and opened it. Inside were a pair of cotton panties, small, delicate, and bright orange.