Office Mating - Day 01

We are peers and indirect rivals at BigCo, Inc. I have heard of you by name, but we have been in different departments and we have never met. I have been at BigCo for 4 years and I have already been promoted a few times. I have heard your name mentioned as a fellow "rising star."

I attended a meeting two weeks ago with my boss's boss where I learned I am being loaned to a new department to head up a special assignment getting the department launched. After the assignment is done, there is an opportunity to stay on with a big promotion to manage the new department. I am informed this will be huge for my career at BigCo.

I am at first excited to hear about this opportunity. Then my boss's boss says there are three caveats: (1) I will be sharing responsibility with you; (2) we will be sharing an office; and (3) there is only one seat at the manager's desk at the end of the assignment.

* * *

7:00 a.m.: I enter my new office as I always do, in the silence of morning before everyone else. I see the setup: two desks in the same room facing each other with a cubical wall between. The far desk faces toward the door. Having an office with a door is better than a cube in the bullpen, but I must admit my disappointment to share it with someone else. I take the desk on the far side facing the door. I put my box of stuff on the floor, sit down, login, and respond to emails for about an hour.

8:00 a.m.: I hear you enter but I don't look up as I finish an email. I figure you don't see me behind the cubical wall, so I stand and lean around the corner to introduce myself. I am astonished.

You are the opposite of my Current Relationship. Where you have large breasts, curvy, wide hips, dressed professionally, oozing confidence, Current Relationship is tiny, thin, flat-chested, quiet, and lives in unflattering casual clothes. She is best described by my sister as "so cute!" She works as a teacher, and our social circles may as well come from different planets. I have a strict personal policy of "don't shit where you eat." Current Relationship keeps my personal life separate from my work.

You say your name. We engage in brief and superficial small talk. As we chat it hits me: your scent. Holy shit you smell good.

We finish introductions and sit at our desks. I listen to you work. Oh my god there's just something about you and especially your scent. It seems to be coming from your hair. When you stand, sit, turn your head, adjust your hair, answer your phone, or even just shift in your seat, a plume of the most intoxicating scent I have ever encountered wafts across to me and my attention drifts to images of your body.

I struggle to focus. Simple things like typing at your keyboard shuffling papers and talking on the phone have me unusually distracted. No, I will not allow myself to use misleading language to describe this: I am getting aroused. I listen to a couple of your conversations. You are clearly smart. Maybe as smart as me. Except without my compulsion to let other people know.

The whole hour I work I adjust and re-adjust myself. I sit with my penis at half-mast until you move. I am then immediately entranced and erect. A minute or two later and I am back to half-mast. Thank god you can't see me through the cubical wall as I grab at my crotch as I repeat this cycle.

I make a deliberate effort to focus. I work. I block out everything else. I can sense my way forward on my project. I check, modify, and improve my spreadsheet. I bask in my intelligence. Then you stand and leave, probably to use the restroom. I lean around the cubical and notice the heart shape of your ass swaying in your skirt, just as a cloud of your scent envelops me. I go catatonic for a moment as if I am in an opium den.

I come back to earth a minute or two later. I have the most productive 10 minutes since meeting you. You reenter and sit at your desk and another swirl of your scent fills me. My dick swells and my heart rate climbs. I realize a minute or two later that I have been staring at a spot on the cubical wall directly between my eyes and your tits. When I look at my monitor I see a row of Z's across a cell in my spreadsheet. I struggle to re-focus, fix my spreadsheet, and work deliberately.

9:30 a.m.: After an hour my dick is hard and won't soften even to half-mast. I get up and tell you I am taking a break.

In the restroom I enter a stall instead of using a urinal. I can't believe I am masturbating with abandon in a stall at work. I am so worked up that I cum quickly. My lode is unusually large. I feel nearly out-of-body as I realize what I am doing. As I come down from my climax, I realize my mind is clear. I wash up and go back to the office.

Back at the office I realize I have never really seen your face: I have developed a practice of "professional distance" where I look toward women while we talk at work, but not really at them. I do this as a measure of career insurance to avoid "misunderstandings" with coworkers that could lead to "misinterpreted intentions." Nevertheless, I feel compelled to look directly at your face. I see friendly interest combined with something--genuineness? earnestness? I don't know, but I feel my defenses immediately fall as I study your face.

I look directly into your eyes. You hold my gaze. I don't feel challenge, aggression, or offense. Instead I feel mildly anxious, like I am expecting something to happen, or like I am resisting an instinct.

We talk about our project. As we talk my mind drifts to an image of us kissing, and not gently. In my vision, my hands knead your clothed ass and breasts. I have you pinned against the edge of the cubical wall. You are grinding your groin into my thigh.

As I marinate in your scent, I lose track of our conversation even as I am talking and I can't recall what I have said to you over the last 30 seconds. The image of our hot tongue-filled kiss continues until I realize my dick is hardening.

I end our conversation by pointing out we should get back to our assignments. It takes a several minutes, but my head clears and my erection wanes. I concentrate and get in some solid analysis.

10:50 a.m.: I realize I am staring at the cubical wall again, eyes half-closed and dick half-hard. I sneak my hand into my pants pocket to readjust. When my hand grazes my cock I instantly become fully turgid. You do ... something... to me that Present Relationship does not. I take my hand out of my pocket, look up baseball highlights on my phone, and let things calm down. I decide to take my leave for lunch early.

Noon: You are not at your desk when I return. I feel a confusing mishmash of relief and disappointment. I sit and get a good 40 minutes of productive work done while you are not there.

12:45 p.m.: You enter the room. I glance around the side of the cubical. You look directly into my eyes and chirp a perfunctory "hi!" before sitting at your chair.

Your scent washes over me like a wave. My dick is instantly throbbing-hard in my pants. I realize I am salivating.

This is insane. How can your presence be so distracting?! I am the company soldier! I never lose focus! I am on C-Suite track! All reviews show I am leadership material! I have unwaveringly pursued my goals and avoided all personal distractions at work for five years. I know you five hours and now I have a mind movie in my head where I get so riled up seeing your tits heaving when you walk that I bend you over the filing cabinet and thrust my aching cock into you.

Eventually the image fades. I realize I have been reading the same sentence in an email for... I don't know... three minutes? I scroll back to the top of the email and begin to read again, this time writing down notes to force myself to concentrate. It takes effort but I manage to write a well-reasoned response.

1:10 p.m.: I hear a small crash and see you have knocked your inbox off your desk, papers scattered about the floor. I pretend not to notice as you come around the side of the desk to pick up your papers. A wave of your scent washes over me.

I get up from my chair to help and I see your cleavage. The image of me pumping my cock between your tits floods my mind. What the fuck?! I'm not even into that! My dick jerks awake.

You turn to get other papers that had fallen under your desk. Your cheek is near the ground as you fish your hand under your desk. Your ample ass is high and the fabric of your skirt struggles. Another image flashes through my mind. You're naked, I am using your panties to tie your hands behind your back while I plow into you from behind and work my thumb into your asshole. Holy shit that was vivid! I have never thought of tying up Present Relationship, and she would certainly reject any attempt at ass play! My cock swells.

I see that one of your papers drifted into the footwell of my desk. I pick it up and sidestep to where you are kneeling on the floor to shuffle your papers back into a single stack.

This is a mistake. As I hand the errant document to you, you look up from kneeling and thank me. I am transfixed looking down into your eyes. A third image consumes me: we are clothed exactly as we are, my hands are tangled in your hair, you are looking into my eyes, which seem to be smiling. I am forcefully shoving my cock in your mouth to the root.

You say, "thank you!" The tinkling of your voice brings me back to now. I see my suit pants have tented out from my rock hard cock. I cover myself with my hands. I mumble "welcome," excuse myself, and shuffle awkwardly past you trying to hide my erection. I head back toward the bathroom to get some relief.

I nearly jog to the restroom to avoid anyone else seeing me in the halls, my hardon evident the whole way. I am going to have to jerk off again just to get enough relief to urinate. My masturbatory session is so furious that I get cum on the cuff my pants and the toe of my shoe. I piss into the toilet, then slump on the seat to calm down.

1:30 p.m.: I return from the restroom to find you are gone. I take the opportunity to get work done.

You return after 10 minutes. We chat and exchange some background--where we grew up, where we went to college, how long we have been working for BigCo. We are mirror images: I am from the west, and you're from the east. We went to comparable colleges and have very similar experience. We came to the BigCo corporate offices in Chicago the same year. While you undeniably smell good and I find everything about you beguiling, I stay present in your presence while we talk.

Over time my dick re-awakens and my attention span shortens. While staring at the cubicle again, your head pops around the side. You ask me a question about a coworker. I respond by slightly insulting him. You laugh, seemingly in spite of yourself. We have compatible senses of humor. You sit back down. I feel like I accomplished something. The sound of your laugh rings in my ears. I feel my dick move in my pants and realize I will need another bathroom break.

2:00 p.m.: Instead of a bathroom break, I decide to take a walk around our department and "check-in with Director Bob" down the hallway. I make sure to meet with workplace "friends" on my way to Bob's office. I even take a different path back from Bob's office so I can talk to other people. I manage to waste a solid hour and a half while looking like I am working.

3:40 p.m.: I get back to our office and the moment I walk in I am overwhelmed and nearly lose my balance. Being so suddenly enveloped in a room full of your scent is like walking into the humid summer heat from inside our air-conditioned office building. I am dizzy, my heart rate climbs, and my body is suddenly covered in a sheen of sweat. It feels muggy. I have tunnel vision: not the good kind that I get when engrossed in work. No. I feel like I am hunting prey. And I am salivating again.

I walk past your desk. I can see the swell of your hip in your chair as I approach and pass. I see myself ripping your clothing to shreds as I force myself to walk past you to my desk.

I sit. I cannot think of anything other than you for more than a few seconds. I pretend to work until four, while visions of us engaged in loud, physical, feral sex cycle through my head. Everything I imagine with you is stuff that Current Relationship would never do.

I am again harboring an erection. I realize I will get nothing else done unless I take care of myself. I excuse myself to the restroom again.

When I get back into my stall I am desperate for release. I yank down my pants, fish out my cock and start jerking off again. I can't remember the last time I masturbated three times in a day.

I am taking longer this time, but I savor it. My head fills with the image of you laying back on your desk. You are holding onto the edge, your skirt is bunched up around your waist, and your tits are spilling out of your bra and blouse. Your ankles are over my shoulder, my left arm wrapped around your thighs and my right hand clasped at your throat. I have my suit pants open just enough to get my cock into you. Your panties shoved to the side as I pound away, your huge tits rippling back and forth with each thrust.

You're looking directly into my eyes and growling "Look at me!" and "I can take it! Fuck me harder!" and "C'mon! Make me your whore!" I erupt like Vesuvius to the mental image of you shrieking "I'm cumming! You're making me cum on your cock!"

My cum lode tears through my bit of toilet paper and sprays all over the toilet seat. I lean against the wall of the stall, out of breath.

I have no idea where all this rough sex imagery is coming from. Current Relationship is conservative and proper. Current Relationship never talks dirty, would never refer to herself as a whore, never makes eye contact, and never has sex anywhere but in the bedroom with the lights off. I have never even imagined Current Relationship doing anything remotely slutty.

On the contrary, it seems I can only think of you like this. Being near you makes me want to be reckless and disregard boundaries I created and enforced over years to ensure my success at work and at home. Even now it would be obvious to anyone in the men's room that I have been jerking off, and from my breathlessness it is obvious I have been going at it hard.

This masturbatory session is less effective than the prior to. Even as my heart rate slows and I catch my breath, the image of you covered in my cum and staring into my eyes lingers. I clean up my mess, and head back to our office.

4:15 p.m.: I sit at my desk with a clearer head. I work for only ten minutes before you tell me you have an appointment and are leaving for the day. You finish logging out, stand, and pivot toward the door. Your hair swishes across your shoulders. Another delicious wave of your scent washes over me.

My cock hardens yet again as I watch your ass undulate under your skirt. I involuntarily visualize you wearing stockings with no panties. When you close the door to the office, I instead see you locking the door, hiking up your skirt, spreading your feet, putting your hands on the wall, looking at me over your shoulder, and telling me in a low voice to hurry up.

If I don't figure out how to deal with this--with you--I am doomed to fail. I've got to get home to sort out a plan.