"What are you doing here?"

Donna's head jerked up at the sound of Josh's voice even as she continued to sort through the manila folders on his desk with an ease born of too much practice. "I work here, remember?" She wrinkled her nose. "I think the real question is, where have you been?"

"Pickup basketball game with the president and the usual crowd," Josh said.

"You look it." He wore a white tank top and navy shorts, and his skin still glistened with sweat from the exertion of the game, highlighting the strong muscles in his arms and legs. His unruly hair was matted down in spots with perspiration; Donna knew his coarse chest hair would be damp against her fingertips, knew how droplets would be beading on the dip above his buttocks. She licked her lips unthinkingly, then cursed herself for being so obvious.

Josh caught the gesture, of course, caught it and smirked as he walked toward her. "Were you waiting for me?" he asked.

She shrugged, futilely attempting a show of nonchalance. "No. I wasn't sure where you'd gone and didn't know how long you would be, so it would logically follow that I wasn't waiting for you at all."

"And yet here you are."

"Yes. Doing work," she said.

"Right." He came closer, trapping her between his desk and his body, then pushed against her ever so slightly so that his chest touched hers. Dampness bled onto the thin material of her shirt.

"You stink," she whispered.

"I know." He kissed her, his tongue hot against hers, his fingers digging into her hips. She shifted against him and pulled away.

"Josh, the door's open," she pointed out, surprised she was still able to think that clearly.

"So I'll close it," he said, the intent in his voice making her clit twitch. She gripped the edge of the desk as he closed and locked the door with quick movements. When he returned to his previous position, he surprised her by hoisting her up so that she was sitting, just barely, on the lip of the desk. She spread her legs and he moved in between them; she was slightly taller than him, now, and she dipped her head the tiniest bit to brush his lips with hers.

Josh's breathing seemed unusually loud and harsh in the stillness of the room; Donna half-wondered in the back of her brain if he should really be playing basketball with his heart, then figured it was probably decent exercise. Then she wondered what the hell she was doing worrying about things like blood pressure when he was attempting to lift her shirt up over her head.

As soon as her shirt was off he buried his head between her breasts, the moist skin of his forehead tickling against her breastbone. She let her head fall back as his mouth latched on to her nipple through the lace of her bra, then ran her hand through his hair, smoothing down the wet curls. "You're so sweaty," she murmured. "How many games did you guys play?"

"Just the one," he mumbled. She tugged at his shirt to let him know she wanted to pull it off of him, so he removed his mouth from her breast and helped her do it. He then took the opportunity to take off her pants for her, lifting her slightly with one arm (her eyes fixated on the way his muscles bunched beneath his skin as he did so) while helping her push the pants down over her ass.

"Josh, there's files and --"

"Screw the files," he muttered, and pulled her roughly toward him so that her weight was on her tailbone. She shimmied out of her underwear while he made quick work of his shorts and boxers. He pressed against her again, his cock hard and hot against her belly. She hooked one leg up high on his hip and helped him push inside of her.

"Oh," she gasped. He thrust into her once and she winced. "This is --"

"Yeah. Hold on." He pushed her back further onto the desk and let the lower half of her body rest on the wood (cushioned by papers and files and she really didn't even want to think about what she was going to have to print out again in the morning) and leaned over her, finding a more comfortable position for them both.

"Mmm," she said approvingly as her body adapted. She reached up and threaded her hands through his chest hair, finding that the coarse dampness of it felt exactly like she knew it would.

"Good?" he whispered.

"Yeah."

He thrust into her experimentally and she gave a satisfied moan. Yeah, that was definitely better. She brought her knees up and he sank in deeper, his cock nudging the entrance to her womb. A drop of his sweat fell from his forehead to her clavicle. "Sweaty," she mumbled.

"You like me sweaty," he said. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hip.

"I do, I really do." She ran her hands up and down his arms, kneading the muscles, his skin slick beneath her palms. She craned her neck up to lick his skin, savoring the saltiness on her tongue. They started to move faster, breathing harder, papers rustling beneath them. Donna gave herself up to the friction, to the hot fullness, her eyelids falling closed as she listened to Josh moaning and gasping above her.

"You feel..." Josh trailed off, and she opened her eyes to see him squinting, his mouth hanging open. "You feel..."

"Don't strain yourself," she said, suppressing a laugh. She lifted her legs up so that the backs of her knees rested on his shoulders; Josh planted his palms on either side of her to adjust his weight, his biceps bulging enticingly as he did so. "Oh yes," she said. Her clit was getting the attention she wanted now and -- "That's...that's..."

"Don't strain yourself," he murmured.

"Oh my god," she whispered. "Oh my god oh my god." Josh responded by thrusting into her faster and faster, and she bucked her hips beneath him, his skin grazing her clit and she needed more, god, she needed more, so she started squeezing her own nipple, harder and harder, and it tickled, her clit tickled and she felt like she was expanding and stretching and god, "God," she came with furious spasms, again and again and it was almost too much, she was whimpering and god and then she felt a warm flood inside of her as Josh came with a strangled moan, his lips parted in mindless pleasure.

The two of them froze in place, sucking in air, chests heaving. Finally Josh lowered his head to her chest. "Holy shit," he panted.

"Yeah." Donna blinked rapidly, willing herself to come back to reality. Had they really just had sex on Josh's desk, on top of a bunch of files she'd spent all evening organizing? That was going to suck in the morning.

"So, you really like me when I'm sweaty," he said smugly.

"Yes, I do, and it's too bad that you're being so you about it," she said.

"I just think it's funny," he said. He sniffed. "I like you when you're sweaty too," he said generously.

She shook her head. "Thanks. You do always say the sweetest things."

"I know." He pulled her down with him to the very edge of the desk and then withdrew from inside of her. Donna stood up on rubbery legs and winced at the trickle running down her thighs. "Stay there," Josh said. He walked around his desk and opened a drawer, withdrew a small box of Kleenex. "Here," he said chivalrously, holding out the tissues.

"My knight in shining armor," she muttered, but she took the tissues and cleaned herself up as best she could while Josh got dressed.

"You want to come back to my place to shower?" he asked. "I brought my car today."

"I don't have any clean clothes there, I'm not sure there's much point," she said. She pulled on her pants and her shirt and finger combed her hair as he watched.

"Maybe...maybe you should keep some extra clothes at my place," he said. "For, you know, emergency situations."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Emergency situations like your wanting to take a shower with me?"

"It feels like life and death right about now," he admitted, grinning.

She smiled back and stepped into his arms. "Well," she said, pausing to give him a noisy kiss, "we could always swing by my place first and I could pick up some clothes on the way to your place, and your shower. Although -- have you cleaned your shower since the last time I was there?"

"The cleaning lady cleaned it," he said defensively.

"Yay!" she said happily, because she knew it would make him grin (which it did).

"And, uh," he said as he disengaged from her embrace and moved to unlock the office door, "you know, you should bring a few outfits, while you're going through your closet. Bring over whatever girly stuff you need, if you want to leave anything at my place...not...tampons, though. I don't think I'm ready for that. That's like...you know. I am a man, and must maintain some manly boundaries." His chest puffed up as he said it.

She rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, I will not sully your den of manliness with my feminine hygiene products. Not yet, anyway."

"That sounds like a threat," he observed as she walked out of his office.

"I am a woman capable of great evil," she said matter-of-factly.

"This is true."

Donna went to her desk and started gathering up her things. "So who won the basketball game?" she called out as he got together his own stuff.

He emerged from his office with his bag over his shoulder. "I was on the president's team tonight, so --"

"So he brought in a ringer and you won."

"Yep."

"Excellent."

"What do you care, anyway?" he asked as they started down the hallway. "Either way I get all...sweaty." He waggled his eyebrows at her.

"I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"No."

"That's what I thought."

"Maybe when we get home I can jog in place for you."

"Okay --"

"Or do some jumping jacks."

"Did I mention that you stink?"

"In fact, my gym has a sauna, if you want we could --"

"I really, really hate you right now."

"I know," he said promptly. And grinned.

End.