I sat quietly at my desk looking through the glass partition at my pretty co-worker, Sarah. She had been the object of my attention ever since I had accidentally seen her do something a week ago that had left me with my mouth hanging open and shaking my head in disbelief.
Sarah was probably in her early forties with blond hair, blue eyes and a figure that can be described as quite respectable. She always dressed in such a way as to show off her curves to their best advantage and seemed to have an affinity for wearing denim skirts with tight and sometimes-layered sweaters, her breasts prominently displayed for all to view.
I had noticed that she received e-mails with a much greater frequency than any of the other employees and often made it a point to be away from my desk and standing near hers at an out of the way file cabinet when she would open her Yahoo mail account.
I couldn't actually read any of the e-mails as she opened them because I was too far away but I could tell that for the most part, whoever had sent them usually wrote several lengthy paragraphs and signed their name at the bottom with a single, bold faced capital
G
.
It wasn't that she received so many e-mails during the day that caught my main attention; it was her demeanor after reading many of them that caused my radar to lock onto her.
I watched her that day as the mornings first e-mail arrived. She cast a hurried glance around the office and then leaned towards her monitor and opened the mail. As she read the first paragraph, I saw a rosy flush begin to creep up her throat and onto her cheeks and by the time she had finished reading all three paragraphs, she was squirming in her chair with one of her hands in her lap. She typed a short reply and hit send, then leaned against the back of her chair and exhaled softly.
I returned to my office and acted as if I was busy but in reality was watching her out of the corner of my eye. I need not have bothered being careful because as soon as the next mail alert arrived she shot upright in her chair, quickly opened it and within a matter of seconds was totally engrossed in the words on the monitor in front of her.
I watched as she would smile and nod her head as she read, fidgeting about in her seat, slowly opening and closing her legs to a rhythm that only she could hear and her tongue would dart out and lick her lips, then slip quickly back into her mouth.
By the time she had finished reading, her hand once again was in her lap and from the angle my view of her afforded me, saw that she was gently pressing downwards against her crotch through her denim skirt.
It became obvious to me at this point that whatever she was reading was of a sexual nature and I felt that I just had to know what it was and who this mysterious
G
was. I knew her husband from the various parties that the company would throw for us as moral builders and he seemed a decent sort. Although we had never talked much at these gatherings, I doubted that he would be sending her e-mail's of a nature that would cause her to place her career in jeopardy were she to be caught by one of the higher ups.
The next e-mail arrived several minutes later and upon opening it, she returned to the words on the screen.
She became so focused on the words in front of her that she forgot about me in my office not fifteen feet from her and began to repeat her squirming and touching routine. It was as if she were at home and in the privacy of her bedroom so oblivious she was to her surroundings and it was then that she crossed the boundary of office etiquette and did something beyond belief.
As I watched, she raised her ass off of the chair a few inches and her right hand snaked inside her skirt for a moment and tugged at something. She repeated the movement with her left hand and then got off the chair and onto her knees like she was trying to reach something under her desk. I saw her hand reach beneath her skirt and a small flash of white appear around her knees and as she sat back on her chair it dropped to her ankles and was quickly kicked off her feet to lay on the floor under her desk.
Her panties! She had removed her panties at her desk for some reason. 'What on earth could that have been about?' I wondered.
I had to know what was in the e-mails from
G
that had caused her to lose all inhibitions and act in such a reckless manner right in front of me.
A quick flurry of activity in the hallway between our offices brought me back to my senses and just as I returned to my work saw her lean over and snatch the panties off the floor and stuff them into her purse.
Acting like I was hard at work I reviewed the incident over and over in my head and then on impulse I picked up the phone and called our I.T. department and asked them to send a technician to my office as soon as they could spare one.
For the next fifteen minutes I actually accomplished a small amount of real work and had become completely absorbed in a client's soil analysis for the landscaping project he had hired us to do at his home.
"You called for a tech?" I heard a shaky voice ask.
I looked up from the papers scattered across my desk to see a tall, thin, young man dressed in blue jeans and a white shirt, his dark hair worn very long and tied back in a ponytail. He was carrying an old, brown briefcase that bulged out at the sides and had probably seen better days. In his free hand he had a cell phone that as soon as he walked in the door and closed it behind him, tucked it into his back pocket.
"What can I do for you?" He asked politely.
I recognized him immediately. It was the office geek; a guy that had the distinction of being called the 'computer fixer guy,' but he was very good at what he had been hired to do and though odd, could perform magic on any computer in our network.
There were rumors that had floated throughout the office since he had been hired that he could find out anything about anyone in the system if he wanted to and that's exactly what I wanted him to do for me. I just had to figure out a way to finesse him into helping me in my quest without being too obvious about my intentions and stroke his ego at the same time.
"I need a little help," I admitted smiling broadly, "and I understand you're just the guy to help me."
He walked to the front of my desk, put his briefcase down and took a seat in one the leather chairs that adorned my office, crossed his legs and put his hands behind his head.
"Let me guess," he said, "you've been somewhere you shouldn't have been and now have a virus to show for it. Right?"
"No. Not at all." I sputtered.
"Well then, what's the problem? Why do you need me?"
"It's kind of personal, if you know what I mean," I said, "and probably way beyond company policy."
