Politics
Simon's ears pricked up. He wasn't sure, but he though that he had heard something, someone, moving about in the building. Yes! It was unmistakable this time - a noise from the far room. He had assumed that he was alone, working late to finish off a report for the following day, but these noises were unmistakable evidence that there was someone else there with him.
He stood and, carefully pushing his chair away from the desk, moved cautiously out of his room and down the isles of benches in the workshop immediately outside his office to the double swing door at the far end. Arriving at the doors he waited and peered through a plastic window into the gloomy half light of the stores area - a maze of wire mesh walls and shelves which partially obscured the view across the storage area to the Manager's office beyond.
This island cubicle, some twenty feet away from him, unlike the main stores, had solid walls and from beneath the battered door a narrow strip of pallid light flickered as movement interrupted its beam. The grunting and gasping and muffled sounds of sex also told him that the office was occupied by more than one person.
He opened one of the swing doors slowly and stepped, gingerly, into the storeroom letting the door swing closed silently behind him. The sounds were louder now, whether it was because that he was closer and now inside the adjacent room, or because the participants had reached a higher state of arousal, he wasn't sure.
Moving on tip toe across the floor he stopped again outside the little office and looked through the small rectangular window set in the door - the only window in a room barely big enough for the sparse furniture it contained.
What he saw startled him. It wasn't the activity underway in that confined space, because common sense had already told him from the noises what to expect, but it was the identity of one the two participants.
Standing with his back partly turned towards Simon and with his trousers around his ankles, was the Store Manager himself - a tall, thin, but untidy man in his mid thirties whose morose nature did little to endear him to his fellow workers. The hands on his outstretched arms held the pale naked legs of a woman whose firm white thighs were pulled up and out. She was lying on her back on the desk before him and the angle between Simon and the couple allowed the latter to see that the skirt of her dress was raised and gathered into a bunch around her waist. Her left thigh swept up to join her smooth flat stomach and Simon could just see glimpses of the tall man's rigid red penis as it drove in and out of the hairy mound that bridged the gap between her legs.
The front of her low-cut dress had been pulled down to allow two succulent marble-white breasts to spill out and she was fondling herself roughly as the penis pounded hard into her.
Simon knew the woman well, it was Diane, his Purchasing Manager, a gorgeous brunette in her early thirties and the live-in partner of Mike Evans - Simon's predecessor, who had discretely left the company when his relationship with Diane had developed into a public affair.
Whilst Mike had been in charge, Diane's relationship with him had allowed her to take upon herself an air of authority that she ordinarily would not have commanded and she had found her situation after Simon's arrival, as her new boss, rather difficult to deal with. Consequently, her attitude to him was business-like but aloof. This irked Simon because he always made a point of getting on well with his staff and he resented her attitude towards him.
No! Resentment did not really describe his feelings - he actually thought that the haughty bitch needed to be brought down a peg or two.
He particularly regretted the existence of this animosity because she was a lovely looking woman and he found himself unwittingly attracted to her. Attracted to her small, slim frame, her dark eyes and her unruly brown hair that she always wore long. In all, she had the appearance of a young gypsy girl and she exploited this with dresses that were in keeping with that theme. It was a plus that many of these often presented her cleavage to wonderful advantage.
Contrasting with her dark eyes and hair, her skin was as pale as alabaster and it was not difficult to understand why the Victorians held this combination in such high regard.
The sight of this professional, self assured and half naked women writhing on her back and moaning like a cheap whore on a desk in a dingy office, and being fucked hard by this scruffy individual, both amused and excited Simon. His penis twitched involuntarily and grew uncomfortably in his shorts as he continued to watch, but he soon realised that neither of them could last for long at the pace they were going. The noises they were making indicated that this encounter would soon be over, so he smiled wryly to himself and turned, retracing his steps to his office and continued the work that he had interrupted.
It must have been about five minutes later when the Stores Manager emerged alone. He trudged wearily down the isles holding his coat and disappeared out through the exit door next to Simon's office. Simon said goodnight but only received a grunt in reply.
A few moments later Diane appeared. She had walked almost half the length of the workshop before she saw Simon and her pace faltered. She stopped at his door, obliged, she must have thought, to offer an explanation for her presence so late in the evening.
"Oh, hello Simon. Ken and I have just been sorting out a stock discrepancy. It's OK now though so I'm off. Goodnight."
She had stood at his open office door as she spoke and was fumbling, head down, in her bag for her car keys. When she retrieved them she followed Ken out through the exit.
" Goodnight Diane - see you tomorrow!" he said cheerily to her retreating form.
As the outside door opened, she repeated, "Yes! Goodnight."
It closed automatically behind her and Simon sat pondering the situation and wondering how it could be turned to his advantage.
*****
For the whole of the next morning Simon was in a meeting and for the early part of the afternoon he was interviewing, so it was quite late in the day before Diane could bring the day's orders into his office for signing. She sat, as she always sat, in a chair in front of his desk as he went through them, supplying answers to whatever queries he might have about them.
She was wearing another of her 'gypsy' dresses only this one buttoned up to her neck with tiny white pearl buttons and it swirled about her knees as she walked. On her feet she wore flat little slippers - almost like ballet shoes, but patterned. Nevertheless, the picture that Simon saw in his mind's eye was the one from the night before and he felt himself becoming very aroused as he kept casting glances in her direction.
When the last form was signed, he sat back, placed the top back on his pen and looked at her as she gathered up the papers.
"Do you have many problems with stock discrepancies that required your late night attention, Diane?" he asked pointedly.
Her dark eyes flashed with alarm and she stopped what she was doing and let her gaze drop to papers she was holding in her lap.
"No, not too many," then added without looking at him, "Ken is pretty helpful when it comes to sorting them out."
