Office Whore

It's a regular, humdrum, late Thursday afternoon at the office. I'm going over accounts John asked me to finish and eyeing the clock at the same time. Only one more hour to go. John is my boss, the guy whose office is approximately five feet from my cubicle. Tall, handsome, and built like a greek god. And yet, he comes out so rarely I see him once or twice a day at most. Although I actually wish he would notice me, maybe something more than a "Good morning, Lana." That would be nice.

Shit. I notice Tiffany glaring at me in her usual 'you're not doing any work' glare. I need to get back to my work. There's only about forty more minutes and I can get out of here, go home, cozy up on my couch and watch Here Comes Honey Boo Boo. Hah. For a twenty-five year old, my hobbies are incredibly lame, and my sex life consists of whatever random drunk I can persuade home on Saturday nights. Pathetic.

I'm just about finished with the write-up I was working on when John opens his door. Sticking his head out, he says, "Lana, can you come in here for a minute?"

At first I pay no attention, because of course, he can't be talking to me. I've never been called in, it's always Tiffany or Mark going in and out of his office.

Then he repeats. "Lana?"

Oh crap. That's me.

"Yes?"

"Can you come in here, for a minute?"

"Oh, uh, yes, of course."

He nods, and closes his door. I finish the sentence I was typing, save the document, and get up. I straighten my skirt, brushing all the crumbs off of it. I wonder if my lipstick is smeared. Oh why, of all days, did I decide to eat lunch at my desk today? I don't think I have time to run to the bathroom and check myself.

I get up, and despite being already invited in, knock on the door.

"Come in," he says, from the inside.

I go inside. It's a really nice office. There's the basic stuff, like his desk, and his two computers, the pictures of his wife and kids. What makes it really nice though is the wall behind him is all glass, with an incredible view of the city. It's almost breathtaking. I'd love working here too if I had a view like that.

"It's kinda something, isn't it?" John smiles, as he catches me admiring the view. I nod. "Come here," he says.

He gets up from his desk and walks up to the glass. I go to join him. He smells really nice, like cucumber cool aftershave. John's easily the most handsome guy who works here, tousled curly blonde hair and perfect, straight white teeth. He reminds me of that actor...what's his name...Simon Baker.

"You see that over there?" John points in the distance. It's some suburban area, beyond the business district.

"Yeah?" I say.

"That's my house."

"Oh, wow."

"Yeah. When I bring the kids here I show them and I say, 'I can see you from here, so don't you misbehave!'"

He laughs, a rich laugh, like a Hollywood star. Oh god, I think I'm swooning. Get a hold of yourself, Lana!

Then it's as if he realizes where we are, and pulls back to his professional self. He waves his hand over to a chair across the desk.

"Take a seat?"

I do as he says. He sits back down too. He folds his hands together and clears his throat. My heart begins racing and I'm nervous all of a sudden. What is this about? Am I in trouble? Oh god, is this for browsing erotic stories on the internet that one time? Can he actually see everything we're looking at on the computer?

I'm kind of scared now, but I try to play it cool. I cross my legs and place my hands on top. I wish I had a mirror. I move my wavy golden-brown hair, letting it fall behind my back.

"Would you like something to drink?" he says, and I shake my head. "Alright, then. I'll begin."

Oh, this sounds serious. Am I really in trouble?

"Lana. You've been here...how long now? 8 months?"

"9 months," I correct him. I hope it's okay that I'm correcting him?

"9 months. Forgive me. You've been a great asset to this company."

Oh god. Is he going to fire me?!

"And I feel you perform your tasks swiftly and efficiently..."

Oh crap, this is it. I'll have to beg him not to fire me now. Excuses, excuses, I need to come up with excuses. My dog's dying? My grandmother's sick?

"A-are you firing me?" I blurt out. I couldn't contain myself. I look down at my hands and they're almost shaking.

John looks confused, then he smiles. "Dear god, no! No! Of course not!" He laughs, shaking his head. "Quite the opposite, actually."

"The opposite?"

"Yes, I believe some kind of...promotion is in order here. Don't you think?"

"I...I don't know?"

Oh wow, a promotion?! So I'm not in trouble after all?

"Well you've been with us long enough, and I've been observing you, maybe you've noticed and maybe you haven't. But I have, and I've come to the conclusion that you're reliable and trustworthy to move onto the next level."

He gets up, moving round the desk to come closer to me. He's standing behind me now, but I'm still looking ahead, at the view.

He puts his hand on my shoulder.

"I can trust you, Lana, can't I?" he says, and I feel him moving his hand a bit lower. My heart races, but not out of fear this time. I manage a nod.

"Great," he says, still moving his hand down and into my shirt. I'm tingling all over. It's the middle of May and it's fairly warm but I feel cold chills all down my spine. "I'm glad we agree on this," he says, and his hand is now reaching inside my bra, cupping my breast. His soft, clean hands. My heart is palpitating.

He's saying something else now but I've stopped listening to what he's saying. My nipples are now fully erect, the left one hardening in his hand. He gently squeezes it between his fingers and I start to feel my pussy throbbing. I'm starting to get wet down there, I can feel it. I'm breathing hard.

Then he pulls his hand out of my shirt, and moves back to the window. I look up at him, finally, confused. But *SO* turned on.

He turns back around, facing me. There's a devilish grin on his face. He enjoys seeing me like this, all flustered. I can tell.

"Well?" he says, still grinning. "Do you accept?"

Accept what? I nod, without even having heard what it was he asked of me. I don't care, I'll accept anything if it means he'll do this again. If he'll touch me again.

"Excellent," he says. He pulls a string and blinds cover the huge glass window. It's fairly dim now, only faint sun rays peering into the room.

He sits down in his rolling chair and leans back. I watch him, eagerly anticipating his next move. I don't know what is about to happen, but I don't mind it, not any of it. The anticipation only drives me more insane. Oh, I can feel my wetness again. I'm going to masturbate to the thought of this for weeks on end...

John is beckoning me over to him, curling up his finger. "Come here," he says. I get up, scrunching my legs together. I walk over to where he's sitting.

"On your knees," he says, and I realize where this is headed. I get on my knees. John smiles, and licks his lips. "I've been waiting for this for a long time," he says.

"Me too," I say. Have I? Could this be the reason I've stuck to working here so long?

"Well then," he says, still smiling, "get to work, my lovely little Lana."

I need no further instruction. Undoing his black leather belt, I unzip his trousers. In reality, all I want to do is put my hand down my own pants. My pussy is aching. But my boss is more important, of course.

I feel his hard-on even before I've pulled off his underwear. It's big and bulging. My mouth is watering. I decide I'm going to be extra good on the off-chance that he's evaluating my performance. Does he audition all his co-workers this way?

I pull down his underwear and unleash his already erect cock. It's huge, probably 8 or 9 inches. My eyes go wide. I start with the tip, licking it just a little bit to get the flavour. John cocks his head back and moans.

"Yess..." he whispers.

I take the head in my mouth, and then I lick all the way from his balls, up the shaft, to the tip. I check to see if he's enjoying it and his eyes are closed, his face an expression of bliss. I make swirling motions on the tip of his cock and I hear him whimper again. God, my pussy is so wet by now, I can feel my panties dripping.

Then I take him inside me, all the way. I love deep throating, it's my specialty actually. I can tell he's enjoying it because he presses on the back of my head, ever so gently, pushing me to go even further. I don't have a problem holding my breath or even choking, so I can stay like this for a long time. But I don't stay that way for long because I feel the hot cum spurting in the back of my throat. I pull back, opening my mouth and letting him finish on my tongue. I know guys like that. I swallow.

He breathes a sigh of relief, and I can tell I've done a good job.

"You're a great little girl, Lana," he says, and I smile and lick my lips. I feel a bit of cum escaping my lips. John wipes it off with his thumb, letting me lick it off.

"Did you like that?" I ask gently.

"No," he says. "I loved it."

I laugh. He looks at the time. Work is over.

"I think it's time for you to go home," he says, giving me that devilish grin again and a little wink. I get up off my knees and straighten my skirt.

I'm about to walk out of his office when he calls.

"Lana?" he says.

"Yes?"

"See you tomorrow."

I smile, not wanting to leave his office.

I wipe my mouth one last time and walk out, back to reality. It feels like everyone's eyes are on me. Oh my god, do they know? Can they guess what just happened? Okay, maybe not everyone's staring at me. Maybe it's just Tiffany. Am I imagining things or is she glaring at me like she's jealous?

I get back to my desk, completely dazed, not even sure of what it was I was working on. I shut my computer down and just gather my things. I walk off without even saying goodbye to anyone, stopping by in the bathroom to check myself out. All good. No cum stains in my hair. I still can't process what actually happened. But at least I know what I'll be masturbating to tonight...