No human being was built to do this — sit in a six-by-six foot cubicle for eight hours a day, five days a week.
I glance at the clock for the umpteenth time, willing the hands to move faster. They don't. Clocks are funny that way — annoyingly inflexible to my whims.
Click. Click. Click. My fingers resume typing, trying to pass the time, trying not to think about him or what he's going to do to me this time. I hear an audible moan and blush, realizing it came from me. Settle down.
My eyes glance at the clock again.
Five more minutes.
Four. The butterflies in my tummy flutter in a chaotic dance.
Three.
Two. My pussy dribbles onto my vinyl chair.
One. My breath catches as my eyes lock onto the second hand… crawling.
It's time! What little self-control I have focuses on a slow, steady walk, trying not to look too eager to leave.
The seventy-five feet drag like a mile, but finally, I reach the door, lower the handle, then step into the stairwell. I take the steps, two-by-two, that descend into the pit of the office building.
As I pass each never-changing gray wall, my mind wanders to a colorful life outside these musty walls. In this company, pay and status run parallel with floor numbers. I work on the tenth floor, and he resides four floors above me. Together, I imagine we'd afford a nice life together. By the time I reach the last five staircases, I've picked out the colors in our bedroom.
With breasts heaving, I finally reach the top of the last staircase, and my cheeks pinken, seeing he's already here. No doubt his chest puffed hearing the hurried taps of my heels descending the stairs. His smirk confirms my suspicions, and my eyes flutter between his piercing eyes and sexy grin. He knows he unravels me… and enjoys his power.
"Show me," are the first words from this fine-suited man whose presence makes a girl look twice.
I reach into my purse and pull out my panties, then hand them over.
He fingers the delicate lace and scrunches them against his nostrils to inhale my scent. "Smells like you started without me."
Before I can respond, he stuffs them in his pocket. "I'll keep these handy in case I need to stifle the lively acoustics, or do you promise to be quiet this time?"
I glance at the impressive outline in his pants. "You better keep them handy."
Abruptly, he pulls me hard against him and mashes his mouth against mine. As we kiss, his hand slips up my skirt, and roughly finger fucks me. I'm moaning into his mouth when he twists my body and bends me over the railing. Moving behind me, he humps my ass, maneuvering his hips to where his clothed cock ruts between my legs and up my ass crack. I grip the railing, the dirty basement floor below blurring. May someday soon he'll take me home where our limbs can get tangled in the soft sheets of his bed.
