NOTE: this is my first attempt at writing erotica in close to a decade. I have just been working in an office, much like the one described here, and dying of lust, surrounded by all these amazingly gorgeous women. This story, which I hope to turn into a 13 part series: one for each of the women I am infatuated with. The names have been changed (or have they?) to protect my ass. But the descriptions of the women, both in personality and in looks, have remained generally unchanged, but perhaps embellished a touch. Obviously, I have never done more than hug any of these women, both due to my marital status as well as my desire to not get fired, but god DAMN do they make the day hard (lame pun intended). Comments are more than welcome.
*****
After four long, grueling years of being unable to provide for my family due to a prolonged bout of unemployment, I finally, finally found a decent job in a large office of over a hundred employees. The pay was good, the work was respectable, and, as I would soon discover, the amenities available at the office were flat-out amazing. Fully stocked free vending machine. Sodas at the ready. On-site gym. All the pussy I can eat.
Prior to starting work at the office, I was a completely straight-and-narrow guy. Sure, I looked at other woman - what red-blooded man straight man doesn't? - but I never strayed. Never got drunk at an office Christmas party and hit on the receptionist. I even once fought off the drunken advances of my ex-girlfriend when I ran into her at a bar. But at this office? You'd have to be gay to not take full advantage.
Now, I'm not saying the women are slutty. Far from it. With the exception of their intense libidos and desire to fuck married men, you'd never know they were anything other than normal, everyday women. A couple of them, like Kristen and Mia, are even good, married Christian girls. I don't know if there's something in the water cooler that turns them into closet nymphos, but all I know for sure is that I am NEVER quitting this job.
It all started about a week after my first day. Having been unemployed for so long, and having been fired from my last job, I was desperate to get in good at work. I kept to myself, buried my nose in my computer, and tried my hardest to be the perfect employee. I repressed as much of my naturally ebullient personality as I could, and devoted myself wholly to learning the ropes. I was trying to impress no one but myself, and with the exception of the half dozen people in my department, I spoke to no one, even at lunch, when surrounded by a wide cross section of people.
Being the new guy, I had the late shift: I didn't get off until 8 pm. By that point, there was hardly anyone in the office, no one from my department, certainly, and those who were still there were clear on the other side of the room, around a corner and practically down the hall. I was busying entering in orders into the system, when I heard the door open. I looked up and saw Alexis walk into the department. I smiled at her, not entirely surprised to see her. She was wearing a thin tank top and yoga pants - shorts, really - with a towel around her neck, one headphone dangling from her left ear, and a small gym bag in her hand. "How was the workout?" I asked, looking at her. She regularly did this after work: go to the gym, exercise for an hour or two, then come back to her desk to get her purse.
She looked at me, her crystal blue eyes shimmering, as she pushed a strand of her long brown hair behind her ear. "Oh, you know, same old, same old. Some guy was staring at me the whole time, watching me as I worked on the Stairmaster," she said. "There's always a guy watching me," she said with a smile. She wasn't conceited, this wasn't bragging...it was merely truth. Alexis was a gorgeous young woman of 23. Her skin-tight clothes did not betray the truth that this girl had had a baby less than a year ago. She was tight, toned, and, truth be told, had an incredible chest, a 38 B, I would later learn, but on her slim body and with the bras she wore, they looked bigger. But as she spoke, her demeanor changed. "But, the guy I WANT to watch me never seems to..." she finished, taking a drink of water and looking right at me.
Now, I've been married well over a decade at this point, and I'm not the most slender guy in a room. But, I'm not bad looking - at 37, I look closer to thirty than forty - and I treat all the women I meet with respect. After having gotten in trouble for just telling sexually themed jokes at my last job, I was desperate to not make that mistake again. So, while I certainly noticed the buffet of eye candy around me, I never allowed myself to linger. Still, the way she looked that night, the cock of her hip just so, and the way the words hung on the air were beyond suggestive. Before I had a chance to really take her meaning, she had come around the cubicle, and sat down.
In my lap.
