Juan had a good first week.
Fresh out of college - not even graduated yet, technically - he'd landed a job at the second largest consulting firm in his home city. It paid $45,000 a year, with benefits. Juan had never made more than $12 an hour.
The work was great. His manager threw a few clients his way on day one, and Juan seemed to really click with them. He even had a few leads on fresh clients of his own.
And the girls! Juan couldn't believe it - this company was better than business school. Nothing but trim, pretty women in pencil skirts and high heels.
Juan mostly kept to himself, but he'd made a promise to be more outgoing at the new job. To him, college had been a series of missed opportunities. Those business school girls flirted with him often - a few had even drunkenly propositioned him outright. But Juan never had the courage to pull the trigger.
As a 22-year-old virgin, Juan had perfected the art of masturbation. He'd done it everywhere: in the car, on the phone, in public bathrooms.
He wasn't a freak or anything. But when you've spent years masturbating, some variety is required. Juan, a right-handed man, had become ambidextrous by the age of 16. He'd used more lotions than he could count. He even tried a Fleshlight once, though it left him so disgusted he had to throw it in a dumpster outside his dorm.
To encourage himself to be more outgoing, Juan vowed to give up masturbation with the start of his new job. It had astounding results. He felt more powerful at the gym. He felt more confident with clients. And he even caught himself flirting with a few of the office girls.
But the worst part of his first week on the job was, undoubtedly, the blue balls.
Juan's body was not entirely happy when he took away the only release it had known for years. He spent his nights struggling to sleep, and his erections popped up at the slightest provocation. He had to resist the urge to run to the bathroom and jerk off every time he saw one of his female colleagues bend over.
It had paid off, though. After the first week of work, he'd netted a date with Sarah, a cute brunette who worked at the firm. A date! Juan had never dated before, and he had no idea what to expect.
He wasn't even sure how it had happened, or whether it was a date. He'd mentioned to Sarah that he had nothing planned on Saturday and she invited him out for a drink. He'd fumbled his way to a "yes" and escaped without saying anything embarrassing.
Juan felt like a moron when Sarah came to his "office" on Friday to give him her phone number. How could he forget something like that?
Juan's "office" was actually a corner room that had been empty before he arrived. He was the last in a wave of new hires, and the firm didn't have anywhere else to put him. He had a nice view of the city's train system through the room's massive windows, but he felt closed off from the rest of his colleagues.
Sarah seemed to like it.
"This view is way better than mine," she said when she stepped inside. Sarah was about 5 and a half feet tall with curly brown hair. Mousy, but in a cute way.
The room contained three wooden desks, three computers and three chairs. Juan had commandeered the biggest desk only to find his computer excruciatingly slow.
"Yeah," he said, trying to act nonchalant. "But you at least sit by other people."
Sarah smiled at him. She wore a tight red sweater and jeans - Juan had learned that, in fact, only the secretaries wore pencil skirts.
"You wouldn't like that. Everyone who sits by me is old and creepy."
Juan laughed. He had mostly kept to himself his first week and didn't know much about the more seasoned employees. Sarah, like him, had been hired recently.
"What's creepy about them?" He asked.
Sarah folded her arms across her chest.
"They stare at me! I swear to god they pretend to have back problems so they can watch me pick stuff off the ground."
Juan tried to look concerned. He could hardly blame anyone. Sarah had an ass so round and tight you could probably eat off of it. He'd gone through agony in the shower imagining massaging it, oiling it ...
Suddenly Juan snapped back to attention. He could feel himself getting hard. It was too easy!
"Yeah, yeah, that sucks," he said. He pretended to look for something on his desk. "That's fucked up."
Sarah giggled.
"Uh huh...Anyway, here's my number. I wrote it out because that's more fun."
She handed him a scrap of paper and turned to walk away. But she paused at the door.
"Text me if you need anything before Friday night." She smiled and walked away.
Juan stood holding the piece of paper for a few moments. "Text me if you need anything?" What the hell did that mean?!
A passing train broke his concentration. Juan blinked and pulled his phone out, then started typing Sarah's phone number in. He was being stupid, he thought. She didn't mean anything; he was just ridiculously horny and reading too much into the situation.
Sarah's visit completely destroyed Juan's focus. He sat at his computer for about 20 minutes wondering whether to text her. She, like most of the office, had already gone home. It was 6:30 on a Friday night and Juan only stuck around because he knew he'd masturbate if he went home.
Another hour passed. Juan made plans with a friend to see a movie and tried to read a newspaper to pass the time. But he couldn't get Sarah out of his head. What the hell would he do on a date with her? Did she even like him or was she just being polite?
"Wow, you must have a pretty good reason to still be here."
Juan, who had his feet propped up on an adjoining desk and his head buried in an article on city politics, nearly fell out of his chair. A blonde, vaguely familiar-looking woman had stepped into his "office."
"Are you actually working or just staying late on a Friday for some weird reason?" She asked.
Juan folded the newspaper and brought his feet to the ground.
"Just...just waiting for a friend to pick me up," he said.
The woman smiled faintly. She had a round face, with thin glasses and a large mouth.
"You don't have a car? Man, they keep hiring you guys younger and younger."
Juan cast his eyes at the train stop outside his window.
"Nah, I just...Usually I take that," he said.
The woman sat down in one of the two open chairs in the room.
"I'm Molly, by the way," she said. She shook his hand.
Juan smiled.
"Juan," he said. "Sorry, you just kind of scared me."
Molly wore a black sweater, black jeans and black boots. Her dirty blonde hair, shoulder-length, and her light green glasses were the only color she had on.
"Me? Nah, I'm harmless. I've been here five years and you've already got a better office than I do."
Juan wondered what it was about his office that people wouldn't shut up about. Molly most have noticed.
"I bet 10 people have already made that joke to you this week," she said.
Juan chuckled and grinned.
"Try 20."
The two sat in silence for a few moments. Juan saw Molly look him up and down. She shifted in her seat, then stood and put a hand on the glass door.
"Do you mind?" she asked. Juan furrowed his brow.
"Uh, I guess not," he said. "What's up?"
Molly sat back down and started to pick at her chair. She kept eye contact with Juan.
"This is gonna sound really weird, and I don't know how you'll take it, and I know you don't know me and you just started here -" she paused and took a breath. "Juan, can you just promise me this conversation will stay between us?"
Juan was thoroughly confused. What the hell did she want to talk about? Still, he felt a certain obligation to hear her out.
"Uh...yeah, sure."
Molly took a breath.
"So, before you and the other new people started, a few of us made a bet. A stupid bet, but we were drunk. Very, very drunk. At least I was."
Juan nodded a few times. Molly couldn't be older than her late 20s. And she was pretty, in a way. Big eyes, husky voice.
"Anyway, I lost the bet, and the consequences for not following through are very severe. So what I'm about to ask you, and you can say no, is going to sound weird, and I'm sorry. And I really hope you won't report me because I like working here."
