At Wor

The most clichéd sex I ever had was in the photocopying room at work. Um, really!

So there was a guy, and he was cute, and we got on. And blah. All of that.

And I kind of worked with him.

We went out for drinks after work a couple of times, and he was fun, and I pretty much knew I would've fucked him except for the whole working together thing. Because that made it seem unwise.

So told myself not to, and I told him that too, but basically, I have poor impulse control sometimes.

I let him lick me out in a parked car in a car-parking building before he dropped me off home.

So yes. Um, poor impulse control. Never mind.

After that, things got a little flirty. Which was kind of bad, because work.

By which I mean I got flirty. And yep my bad.

I think knowing I shouldn't was part of it. Like the lure of the forbidden and all that. So I kind of flirted with him, a lot. And I had sex with him a couple of times after work, too. And I made long boring speeches about how annoyed I'd be if this fucked up anything at actual work, because I didn't usually do this, and I just wanted sex, and he'd better not get weird and clingy and fall for me or anything like that. And he said he wouldn't and he didn't, actually. It was all actually fine.

But still, work. And things getting flirty. And me sort of forgetting to behave.

One time I wore a fairly shortish dress, just for him. I usually dressed pretty sensibly at that job. So I wore a short dress, and he noticed, and was kind of accidentally running into me all day.

Like so much all day I was starting to notice, and get excited by him following me around and pretending he wasn't.

Like really quite excited.

I thought about trying to fuck in the toilets, but that was just kind of gross and a bit dangerously obvious if we were caught, too.

And then he pulled me into the photocopy room.

That work had an actual separate room, with the copier and all the paper in it. And the door had a lock, I guess just because. Someone might steal the paper, maybe? I don't know. Anyway, the lock was actually annoying because the door also had a swingy-shut closey thing, so it closed. Which was a nuisance if you had both hands full with whatever you had just copied. So there was also a wedge beside the door, to hold it open, and the first person to go in each day usually wedged it open for everyone else.

So that was fine.

Except that sometimes the wedge got bumped and the door swung closed and then you had to stomp around the office asking everyone who had the key.

So we went in there and closed the door and then I wedged it, just to be safe, and then we had sex. There was a table beside the copier to sort your bits of paper on or whatever, so we did it there. And first I sucked him, because I'm incapable of having sex without giving someone head. Almost seriously. But after that, I sat on the table, and he stood in front of me, and we were both pretty quick and quiet and as far as I could hear, no-one tried the door, and no-one noticed it was closed or that we'd disappeared. Which is good.

So we finish and go back to work feeling pretty smug with ourselves. And I sit at my desk and feel kind of used and sticky and that's actually quite unspeakably sexy.

And I also sit there hoping I don't smell like sex, and that the copying room doesn't either.

I hope, anyway.

And we did that again, one other time, and that time we did almost get caught, as in someone tried the door and went to get the key, and we dashed out while they were gone.

That time, because we'd stopped suddenly, we were both horny, so we went to a hotel at lunchtime. And that was actually quite unspeakably sexy too. Like the furtive sordidness of sneaking off to a hotel just to fuck for half an hour and then go back to work.

Also, I blew him at his desk a couple of times, after hours, working late. Like kneeling there and sucking him off while he pretended to work. He did me, too, the same way, but doing him was weirdly hotter. There's something impossibly sexy about being at work, on your knees, sucking and getting a mouthful of come. I don't really know why, there just is.

So anyway, it was fun, so we did the hotel thing a few more times, and after work at his place too, but then we just kind of stopped.

Because work, I guess. And I think he worried a bit about the same thing I worried about, that you need to be slightly careful with getting too friendsy close to someone you're casually fucking, as in, he might have been worried about me getting weird and clingy as much as I was about him doing that, I think.

So anyways, we stopped, and went back to just being worky, and friends, and that was fine.

Um, which actually seems to work out more often than lots of people think it does, says me. Like maybe everyone hears about the horror stories, but all the other people who don't want to admit stuff just sit there and nod and say nothing?

Maybe?

So yep. That was that. Clichés, and a happy ending! Ha!