Author's note: By popular demand, I have chosen to write a sequel to my first story, A Limo Ride to Remember, continuing the relationship between Brittany and Jordan. Thank you so much to all of the readers that liked my very first erotic short story enough to comment and message me, asking me to do this. It is very inspiring.
*
Overtime at the Office
As another day comes to an end, the sounds of the office die down with the setting of the November sun. What normally is the whirring ambience of printers, fax machines, and telephones becomes the usual hallway chatter of "See you tomorrow" and "Have a good evening," somewhat drowned out by the frantic clacking of my fingers on my keyboard.
"Hey."
Clickety clackity.
"Hey!"
Tippity tappity.
"Hey! Jordan!"
I sighed, stopped typing, and turned towards my office door. Standing there, leaning confidently against the door jamb, was Josh, my boss, who seemed to wear a different suit every day. Today's color was navy blue, which clashed greatly with the swamp green walls (or whatever the hell color they were changed to this year). He rubbed his goatee with his hand, then brought it up to run his fingers through his long hair, bringing them back around to make a finger gun. "See you tomorrow," he said, clicking his tongue behind his teeth. Every day. He's been doing that every day since I got promoted a month ago. I was already sick of it by the end of the first week.
"You too, Josh," I said, silently wishing he would get that stupid spotted tie or his long sexy hair caught in the elevator on the way down. Fucking Jason Momoa wannabe. While certainly not a bad looking guy, I hated looking at him, probably because I wish I looked like him.
I leaned back in my chair, cracked my neck as I turned it from side to side, and gazed out my office window, looking down at the little ants race into their tiny toy cars and zoom off in a hopeless attempt to beat rush hour traffic by two whole minutes. It was the same every day, in every parking lot I could see from my 16
th
story office window. It's always a small joy to watch how dangerously fast these people leave their day jobs.
Three more emails and then I'll leave.
THUD!
The sound was all too familiar. I instantly recognized it as the violent sound of a stack of paperwork impacting my desk at high velocity. I glanced from my computer screen for a quick moment to see what bullshit just became my responsibility at the end of the day. I sighed as my eyes looked upon a stack of papers six inches high.
Just what I needed to see ten minutes before I leave.
I glanced over again for a longer look and saw a familiar pair of skinny legs in the corner of my eye. There's only one person in this office who wears a teal pantsuit. I didn't even look at her face; I simply went back to my computer screen.
"Hello Brittany," I said, continuing my typing, "I thought you left already."
"I thought I did too," Brittany replied, "But that fucking Josh decided he wanted me to file all of this bullshit. Fucking cunt." She sure has become a lot less conservative with her language in the last year.
"And you figured the best thing to do would be to dump it all on my desk?" I growled.
"No, you ass, I dumped half of it on your desk," Brittany snapped. "The other half is on my desk. I want you to help me with it."
"Dammit Brittany, I just wanted to finish up these e-mails and go home. Can't you just do it tomorrow?" I still didn't look at her. My eyes were fixated on the letters appearing on my screen with each keystroke.
Brittany slammed her hand down on my desk. The force was great enough to make my mouse jump, and the top two sheets of paper blew off the pile, drifting down to the grey nylon carpet below. "For fuck's sake, Jordan! What could you possibly have planned on a Tuesday?" I sensed the sweet smell of spearmint gum escaping her mouth, and glanced over at her hand on my desk. Her vibrant ruby red fingernails contrasted with her milky white skin, which was brightened by the glossy mahogany beneath it. How such a small, delicate hand could possibly have made such an impact on my desk, I will never know. My dick squirmed as I quickly flashed back to our night in Las Vegas last year, and how those soft, beautiful hands looked and felt clasped around it. The way she looked up at me with those gorgeous brown Vietnamese eyes as I exploded in her warm, inviting mouth.
No no, stop it,
I thought.
I turned back to my computer screen and continued typing. "I have a raid tonight," I replied.
"A... what?" Brittany asked, her voice dripping with confusion.
"A raid. In World of Warcraft," I said. Normally I would've been embarrassed to tell her this, but I just didn't care today. I wanted to get my work done and get out of here, knowing I definitely wasn't going to beat the rush hour traffic now.
"Oh my god, seriously?" Brittany shouted. "You would rather play video games than get some easy overtime?"
"Easy?" I said. "I'm a salesperson, not a file clerk. I barely even know how to do it."
"There's nothing to it, I'll just get you to sort and organize papers, and I'll do the rest," Brittany said. "Come on, I'll meet you in the filing room. It won't even take an hour." She spun around and exited the room, and I turned my head to watch her leave. God damn, she is so sexy. From her caramel brown ponytail swaying with each soft step, to her perfect hourglass body, to that soft plump ass to her flawless feet in those black high heels, pushing her height a couple more inches past the five foot mark.
Fuck, I miss her...
I finished typing up the final email of the day, ready to go home. Ideally that would've been the case, but instead I'm stuck here for another hour with a sexy old flame of mine that I no longer have a chance with. The past few months have been weird working with and around her. Since our wild night in Vegas, we had hooked up a few more times, but she had decided to end it when it seemed like people at work were getting suspicious of us, since relationships are prohibited in our workplace, which is such bullshit. Since when does a company have any authority to regulate love? Fuck, I should've quit this job when I found out how she felt about me, but the benefits are great. Now being around her is just awkward, but she's still so damn good to look at.
I turned off my computer and adjusted my keyboard and mouse cords to be parallel with each other, tugged on all of my desk drawers to make sure they were all locked, then grabbed the lousy five pound stack of papers and left my office. I strolled down the dark and quiet hallways, with only the sound of the fans above me to muffle the sound of my nervous breathing. After passing a dozen empty offices to my left, I passed the elevator to my right. Just as the door was closing, I eyed the curly hair and wide brimmed glasses of Charlene the receptionist. I heard a loud "Have a good night!" from behind the closed door.
I will when I get home
, I thought.
After passing the elevator, I approached the heart of the workplace - the maze of cubicles, normally bustling with activity and social conduct, now all empty and neat for the day. Sometimes I miss working in this area. I am by no means a social butterfly but I do miss the riff raff and shenanigans that would happen around me that would make me smile and laugh, helping me get through the day. Looking at all the cubicles, the only difference between each one was who was in the family pictures plastered along the inner walls. It always saddens me when I look at all of the smiling faces in each picture. Beautiful pictures of husbands, wives, and children. I hope I can have that someday... I'm in my thirties now with no real sign of settling down, and the only thing ever really on my mind is my feelings for a co-worker I'm about to spend the next hour with but she's already found someone else. Fuck... what am I even doing? I feel less productive now than when we were actually breaking the rules.
As I approached the room in the far corner to the left of me, the only room that still had light shining out of it, I heard the sound of shuffling papers and closing drawers, getting louder with each step. I looked inside and I saw Brittany bent over with her sweet ass pointing towards me, sifting through the folders of the lowest drawer of one of the dozen filing cabinets lined along the far wall. Further down I see she has already gotten more comfortable and had removed her high heels. Her soft white feet and red toenails shone brightly underneath the office highbay LED lights.
