It was Friday evening, at around quarter to seven on a November evening..
Jim and Michelle were the last to remain in the office, having agreed to remain to complete an important marketing project the two had been working on for the past couple of weeks.
With the deadline looming on Monday, Tony had suggested that he continue a revamp and double check of the graphic layout whilst Michelle proof read and amended the written content.
This scenario suited both, as they worked well together and enjoyed and relaxed in each others company in what could be a fraught environment. The marketing office could be busy at times, but with a glut of contracts coming in, the team had been under pressure lately, but had bonded well, and good working relationships had been forged and strengthened. Jim hadn't worked there long, just a couple of months, but had adjusted well and integrated. He was quiet but confident and possessed a certain poise which had not gone unnoticed by his female colleagues, complimented by his good looks and lean frame. Michelle was in her early thirties, and had worked within the marketing department for a few years, and was popular with both the male and female staff.
She would describe herself as chunky, but in reality she was a size 14, with amble bosoms, clear, creamy skin and slightly reddy hair. She was medium height, but had well proportioned legs and a rounded bottom which flattered her hips and slim waist. Her features were striking, prominent cheekbones, but her face was soft and warm in appearance. These features were complimented by a soft, rich voice and assured character, her behaviour bordering on the flirtatious at times yet subtle enough to retain an air of true professionalism and competence. The colleagues sat at their respective desks, diagonally opposite each other occupied by their particular responsibilities.
Jim had just put the phone down to his partner after sheepishly explaining the situation to her, and receiving a mild torrent of annoyance for disrupting her plans. She was going out regardless and would see him later on, which prompted a mix of emotions from Jim, of short lived guilt, relief, annoyance and finally settling on indifference. He stretched, rubbed his eyes and tried to focus on the task in hand. Staring at his monitor, progress was slow but steady and he calculated that he would be finished by around 9. He sipped at his coffee, and reclined in his chair.
His thoughts began to meander, as he cogitated the conversation he had just had with his partner. He imagined her stomping around their flat, cursing him as she prepared to go out to the usual haunt of her work colleagues and meet her small pool of acquaintances. His thoughts began to take another direction as he envisaged her being chatted up by a couple of guys at the bar, then fast forwarding to the point where they persuaded her to go clubbing, accompanied by one of her friends, persuading them to snort coke, neck codeine and culminating in her being doubly penetrated over their Ikea sofa, at the flat, whilst her friend pissed into her open willing mouth. His thoughts were interrupted when Michelle's voice infiltrated his fantasy.
"You look preoccupied… how are you getting on?" she asked from across the room.
Jim was suddenly nudged back into consciousness, aware that he wore a mildly disturbed frown but was quite horny from the scenario he had just played out. He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, to accommodate his now erect cock in his suit trousers.
"Yeah, I'm fine… just getting some inspiration. How about you?" he replied, as he recomposed himself.
He looked over to where Michelle was sat. She was bathed in the diffused light of her desk lamp, which accentuated her features, and added a translucency to her skin and blouse. His mind instantaneously opened its file on Michelle, marginally influenced by the residual surge of adrenaline from his erotic fantasy about his partner.
The marketing team was predominantly female, with the only other males being a middle aged gristly, bespectacled fellow called Mike, who dealt with figures and accounts, and Ben, who at 24 was Jim's age, but was considerably shorter, and wider, but a decent enough spar, and an occasional after work drinking partner. The team leader was Helen, a buxom woman in her late thirties, friendly enough but aloof at times. She also suffered from halitosis, but because of her generous breasts and penchant for short skirts she was worth a second look from time to time. The rest of the team was comprised of Kash, a young bubbly Anglo-Asian psychology graduate, who despite her education seemed a bit dim and irritating at times, although Jim didn't know whether this was his "racial intolerance" emerging or not.
Despite this, he wasn't interested enough to over contemplate this moral dilemma, as she had ballooned in size over the past couple of months, and had poor dress sense. Asian babes reject. Kim was the other designer in the team, in her forties, with a seasoned quality about her, and pleasant features. Average tits, nice arse, but a bit of a belly. Worth a thought every now and then in quieter moments, under the category of horny housewives, but not worth a trip to the gents for a quick one off the wrist. Finally there was Tracy. No oil painting, but a certain eminence about her, intelligent, and a round arse and big tits. Gents material, indeed.
Ben and Jim had occasionally reviewed the team in the pub after work, and discussed the relative merits of winter clothing versus summer collections, when applied to the female staff. Black tights and short skirts, versus flowing summer dresses and bare legs. Ben would be more overtly primeval in his assessments of his colleagues, and after a few pints would divulge his base fantasies which bordered on the disturbing but innocuous. However, both agreed that out of all the women, it was Michelle who provided the most material for wank fodder. Flirty without being tarty, with an off -focus allure, Jim couldn't quite trust his instinct about whether there was an attraction or not and from whom it came.
His mental search engine filtered the Michelle data in an instant. Attractive, good figure with low maintenance needs, funny, and no discernibly annoying characteristics. The search engine finished its mission, out of data. Was she attached? She had come to the pub on occasion, but never stayed for a prolonged time, laughed appropriately at Jim's conversation, kept good eye contact, responded well to probing but kept her boundaries and left a pleasant yet enigmatic aura. She was a contrast to Jim's partner, not so in physique, but certainly in personality.
"Mmmm. I've still got quite a way to go, but I've got no plans for this evening, so I'm here for the duration. Was that your girlfriend?" Michelle asked.
Again Jim was jolted into here and now, his brain reengaging, alarm bells sounding in his visceral regions as his erection moaned and growled in its enclosure.
"Huh??" was his most coherent response, as he focussed on her eyes, rather than her tits.
"The phone call, was that your girl friend?" she asked again, smiling, and gently sweeping her hair away from her face.
"Uhhmmm… yeah, yes it was. She's miffed because we were supposed to go up Broad street, but I'm not missing anything I've not seen, heard or yawned at before. So she's going out anyway." He replied.
He'd found his rhythm and continued. "So I'm here for the duration too."
He smiled and they were momentarily engaged in an optical embrace, which whilst comfortable, felt ambiguous enough for Jim to break off and look blankly at his monitor again.
"Good. " Michelle replied. And still smiling, echoing Jim, turned to face her monitor again.
Jim's erection continued to throb in its pen, and he was experiencing moderate rushes of adrenaline. His face felt hot and he reflexively loosened his collar. He shook his head, and squinted at the screen. There had been a weighty silence since their exchange, which although not disturbing had maintained his visceral alert.
He adjusted his cock again, but was unable to release the pressure. Jim drained his coffee and looked over to the water cooler, as he felt his throat and mouth drying. He smacked his lips as discretely as possible and looked over at Michelle. She was focussed on the contents of her screen, a light smile playing across her lips. They were slightly parted and the lamp light made them faintly glisten. Her left hand was stroking the mouse on her desk, in a seemingly absent minded fashion.
"Do you want a drink? I'm just going to get some water or something.. " Jim asked the room.
His dry throat reduced this statement to a croak, and he cleared his throat again.
Michelle looked across, the smile remaining on her face.
"It sounds like you need one." she replied, and grinned. "Would you get me a coke?"
"Er, yeah, sure." Jim responded. There was a coke machine down the corridor, and Jim swivelled in his chair to face the door, in an attempt to disguise the bulge in his trousers. He stood and crossed the room, and turned to look at Michelle, who was leaning down, examining the contents of her bag. She looked up to catch his gaze and both smiled. Jim opened the door and tried to disguise his hurried pace. He retained the image of her opulent breasts pressed against the fabric of her silky blouse, as he headed down the corridor.
"Fucking hell.." he muttered to the corridor and rubbed his hands through his hair. He looked down to inspect the size of his swelling, and contemplated taking a detour to the gents for a wank before returning to the office. Deciding against it, he reached the dispenser and fished a quid from his pocket. The corridor was lit only by the subdued emergency lighting, and there was an eerie but invigorating silence to the building. He collected the first can of diet coke and placed its cool, refrigerated metal against his forehead. Pressing the button again, the second can clanked into the slot, and collecting his change and the coke, he turned and headed back towards the office. His knob remained engorged with blood, but he had adjusted it sufficiently to look less threatening, from above anyway, and dismissed the idea outright of popping to the toilets. He nodded to himself as he decided to wank about the image of his partner being double fucked whilst he watched a porno later on at the flat, and collecting himself, he straightened up and entered the office.
Michelle had swivelled slightly in her chair, so that her legs were now visible from behind her desk, and she was at a right angle to the monitor. She was beaming as Jim approached and he scanned her environment for the source of her pleasure. There was a bottle of vodka atop her work surface, and two plastic glasses next to it. He focussed on the bottle and then on her face as he slowed his approach, and she began to giggle, he eyes widening. Jim smiled, and tried not to look puzzled.
"Erm, here's your coke." Jim managed in response to this scenario.
"I was saving this for later, when I was going to town, but being as we're stuck here, why don't we loosen up a bit? It might add some extra inspiration." Michelle replied, winking in a sultry fashion, a wide grin remaining on her face.
"Erm, yeah, sure why not. I'm not driving, so fuck it." Jim replied. He was warming to the theme. He placed the cans on the desk, and stood back for a moment.
"Shall I do the honours?" Michelle asked, as she reached for the Smirnoff. She broke the seal, and poured two large measures of vodka into the cups. Jim watched and instinctively rubbed his hands together in front of his crotch, before reaching for the coke. In that instant, he was aware that Michelle had flicked her focus away from the cups and onto his crotch, or was it his hands. Jim became aware that his cock had shifted also, and was probably quite prominent, and he inhaled deeply thorough his nose as he tried to contain himself and concentrate on opening the can and topping up the liquor. Task completed, he turned and approached his chair, battling with the surge of mixed emotion and adrenaline.
