Pete tried, unsuccessfully, to avoid looking at his watch too often; it only made the time drag by even slower. He was alone in the office, and rubbed his erection. He had enjoyed -- or suffered -- an erection, on and off, most of the afternoon. He had tried to hide it and to will it so subside, but he was sure that Claire, one of his colleagues, had spotted it when she had come over to his desk to ask him to clarify some details in the report she was working on. She had pulled up an empty chair and he had needed to swing his own chair sideways to speak to her. He thought he caught her eyes briefly on his lap, then she had seemed nervous or embarrassed while talking to him. Despite his attempts to remain calm, he had experienced the same feelings.
Few people in the company worked beyond five on a Friday afternoon, and nobody in the office where he worked ever did so unless something urgent arose. The building was quite old, too, and offices were scattered between different floors and even between two buildings. He worked till six or six-thirty some days, but varied the day and frequency to avoid suspicion. On some of those days, but not all, it was not to undertake any work-related tasks.
Pete cursed himself for looking at his watch again. Five thirty-three. It would be another fifteen minutes or so before she arrived to clean the office.
Tina. She was thirty four years old with a young face and a smooth complexion. She was around five feet five tall and slim, and although she worked part-time as a cleaner she always wore a modest amount of makeup and looked nice. There was an appealing aspect to her appearance rather than an overtly sexual one. Her legs were not fat, but she had once said that she wished that her thighs were a bit slimmer -- he thought they were ideal, and had said so. Her breasts were average in size, neither big nor small and in perfect proportion to her slim build. Their consistency was perfect, too. They were still firm but soft enough to give way to his eager touch.
Occasionally she agreed to visit him at his home so that they could take their time. She had a partner, though, and had no wish to embark on an affair, and she always left almost immediately after sex. She had no desire to talk about her personal life, other than to stress that she expected discretion. There would be no exchanging of phone numbers or e-mail addresses, and although she was willing to visit him from time to time at his home, she would make her own way there and back, and did not expect him to try to find out where she lived.
Any arrangements or changes were made by her ringing as a withheld number to his extension at work.
If Pete had known it, she was happy with her partner but simply had a high sex drive. She wasn't a slag who would have sex with anyone anywhere at any time. But she did enjoy sex, and a small number of carefully selected and discreet partners added to the variety. She had been with her partner for a few years now and although there was still a strong sexual chemistry between them a little of the sexual sparkle had worn off and, despite her gentle efforts to break out of the rut, it had become a bit "samey".
Pete respected her wish, and avoided burdening her with his personal issues. His girlfriend had recently left him for someone else, and a no-strings relationship suited him just fine. He didn't want to be emotionally involved with anyone right now. He couldn't believe his luck that flirting with Tina had developed into a purely sexual relationship. He would have preferred it to happen more often, especially their more relaxed times at his home, but he could hardly complain about his lot!
And there was no denying that although when it happened at work it was short -- it WAS also sweet, the sweeter for being outlawed by that wide-embracing workplace term "gross misconduct", and for carrying the risk of dismissal. They were both as careful as they could be to minimise the risk, but, however small, it was still real and ever-present, and added to the thrill. And the essential brevity of these stolen times made them seem more intense.
Moreover, they managed to get a fair bit of variety into the stolen moments.
At last the office door opened and she stepped in, dragging the hoover behind her and carrying a bucket containing her cleaning materials. She was wearing her usual jeans, that fitted her quite tightly, and a pink vest top. She had evidently removed her bra before coming to his office. The effect was extremely appealing. Rather than clinging tightly to her, her top partly hugged her breasts and partly hung loosely over them, so their shape was partly visible and partly hinted at. Her nipples pressed slightly against the cotton. She smiled at him and said "Hi." he reciprocated. He looked at the papers before him and at his computer screen, pretending to work.
She began to dust the tops of the filing cabinets, and he stared hungrily but silently at her. She hummed to herself. Her jeans hugged her narrow waist and the contours of her hips and nicely rounded backside. Her jeans were also fairly tight over her largish thighs. Her dark, bobbed hair was neatly groomed and clasped behind her head with a large clip. Her skin was tanned. Under her vest-top her breasts were shapely and firm-looking. They wobbled and quivered under her top as she dusted.
She walked to the desk that faced his, and smiled coyly but said nothing. She sprayed polish on the desktop and began to polish it with the duster. He stared entranced at the rhythmical shaking of her breasts under her vest top. She bent lower, revealing most of her tit-flesh inside it, and began to rub the desk top a little harder, causing her firm breasts to sway more vigorously. Her nipples looked harder than before. Still neither of them spoke.
She walked across to the side door of the office. It only led to steps that served as a fire escape route and were never routinely used. Again he stared admiringly at the curves of her waist and hips. She opened the door and placed one foot behind it to keep it open.
She polished the brass doorplate, and he gazed again at the swaying of her gorgeous breasts under her vest top. Her crotch brushed the brass doorknob and with a thrill of delight he watched her rub herself almost imperceptibly but deliberately against it. He felt a shudder of delight, suspecting but uncertain of what she was going to do next.
As she continued to polish the doorplate she rubbed her crotch against the doorknob a little more noticeably. He blew out his breath in delight and suppressed desire.
Still polishing, she squatted on her haunches and with little sideways movements drew her breasts backwards and forwards and from side to side against it. They yielded freely and sensually against it, moulding themselves around it. She pushed up and down a little, teasing her cleft with the doorknob, then rubbed the tip of each breast in turn against it. She gave a low whimper. Her nipples had grown tauter, and now jutted proudly against the cotton of her top. Under the desk he rubbed his erection.
