My name is Anna. I'm a relatively new hire at a moderately sized business company. To be honest, I'm not even sure what we do here other than paperwork and internal memos between our different teams every now and then.
I have been with this company for under a year, but with that in mind, I recently asked my boss if I could transfer to another team, seeing as my current one was overcrowded and that perhaps they needed the manpower elsewhere. I can't believe it worked, too. Then again, it was difficult to say no to a girl who intentionally left one too many buttons open on her blouse.
I should fill you in about me. I hit 30 a year ago. Curvy, fair skin, green eyes behind fake prescription glasses. I have a bit of a belly but I was assured that alot of men like that in a woman.
As for my hair, I'm a noirette, and I wear it in a feathered pixie cut.
I'm also divorced. I have full custody of my son, Peter, whom I decided should have a better life than mine. The private school I picked for him had very high standards and an excellent track record when it comes to post graduation employment and college admittance.
Only problem is, naturally, it costs a fortune.
Between the alimony and whatever I manage to save up from up my salary, I have handled it. However, with each coming year, the fees keep escalating. Peter graduates from primary school this year and the cost of their 'Middle School' left me in a bit of a panic.
I figured if I convinced my boss that I should be transferred to a less crowded department I would have an excuse to ask for overtime. My new superior, Kevin, is a recent promotion. He's soft spoken, seemingly kind, and tends to keep to himself.
Did some digging. Late 30's, and it turned out that he never married nor had anyone over at work during functions. If he was a lonely man then that would suit my needs just fine.
If I made sure to show a bit more cleavage and wear a skirt that's just slightly tighter than my actual size, I could have him eating out of my hand in no time.
Our first interaction had him awkwardly darting his eyes around not wanting to stare while also trying to put up a confident front. He didn't stand a chance.
Over the following weeks, I've realised that the reason there weren't that many people in this department was because the work was more or less non-existent. Besides the occasional memo and spreadsheet, there wasn't much to do. If I am to convince Kevin to grant me overtime I would need to pretend I'm swamped; that I'm handling more tasks than even the ones he's allocating to me.
Cut to this morning.
I walked in on Kevin as he was on a phone call and I gestured if I were to come by later or wait in his office. With a hint of nerves as his eyes registered it was me, I saw him gesture back for me to sit down.
My initial plan was to ask him if he wanted anything else done when the opportunity presented itself: He was promising someone on the phone to have a some calculations done by tomorrow morning. Something urgent, I guess. I waited till he hung up and immediately pounced on the task.
"Who was that?"
"Oh, it was Dean, from R&D. They wanted to propose the construction of a new facility and they needed the budget breakdown ready by tomorrow in time for upper management's meeting."
"Wait he only just told you about it?"
"Yeah, they were too busy with their designs and thought they had another week."
I knew Dean was full of shit, but gift horses or whatever.
"I can take care of that," I spritely offered, "you already have that project report coming up and I'll be honest, I could use the overtime!"
I punctuated my sentence with a slight giggle. He politely smiled.
"That would... actually be great, Ms. Anna," he happily replied, "but I wouldn't want you to take on too much work."
"It's ok, honest," I slightly cooed, "I've been meaning to ask you if I could stay behind anyway, I have a report that I needed to go over and I didn't have the time today."
"Oh, well that settles it. I guess we can apply for overtime for today."
It didn't sit right with me, the 'today' bit.
"I've been meaning to ask," I started again, "with all the work we have and with very few employees in our department, I don't think they would mind if we stayed behind every now and then."
"Oh, I don't know about that... I don't want management to get a wrong impression. You know how they are with the company funds and all."
"Trust me, Kevin, we really need it."
I could see the subtle look of confusion in his face.
"We do?"
"Yes. If we are to make sure we are on time with everything they throw at us, what's a little overtime every now and then?"
He didn't seem to be entirely convinced, but was hesitant when I faked my assertion.
"OK, I'll see what I can do." he finally relented, after giving it a bit of thought.
Promoted employees tend to generally fall under two categories.
The first, are those who seek to fully exploit their newfound privileges. They'd fully sink into being horrible dirtbags who immediately try to push the boundaries of what they can get away with. They are invariably insufferable.
The second, are those who take their newfound status in stride and more or less remain the same; hard-working or otherwise.
There's also a secret third category. There's the kind of person that is so worried about keeping their new post that they develop a sort of phobia around it. People of this category act as though they're on a perpetual trial period. They can be unbearable, too, but for obviously different reasons.
Kevin falls squarely under category 3. In his case, he tends to lack any kind of confidence when it comes to doing his work, which is beyond frustrating when he is more capable than the majority of his peers.
I was pondering this 'ordeal' as I finished up the budget report. Simple enough, I was done well before 5:00, but I obviously had to pretend I was still dilligently typing away.
An hour later and Kevin passed by my office. I made sure to keep the door wide open even though I usually tended not to. It worked; Kevin doubled back.
"Ms. Anna, you're still here?"
"Hmm?" I murmur before I moving my eyes from my screen, "yeah, still working on that budget. I think I'll be done in like 30 minutes or so."
"Oh, well I appreciate that. I'm off to file something then... I guess head home."
It dawned on him that he was going to let me stay behind while he took off. A pang of guilt flashed across his face.
"Don't worry about it," I laughed, "like I said, I asked for this."
"Alright..." he replied, defeatedly.
I pretended to be typing for a couple of minutes just in case he, or anyone else, was still there.
It was finally quiet.
Breathing a sigh of relief, I got up and stretched. I now needed to kill another hour or so before I punched out.
Peter was at his grandmother's for the day... I planned ahead, for once.
God, Petey, the things I do just to see your snotty little face smile.
Ever since the divorce, taking care of my son has been the only thing. My sex life was put on hold indefinitely, and it was kind of amusing, given how I dressed around the office. Imagine the lady with the tight pencil skirt, the high heels, and the unbuttoned shirt that shows off her gratuitous cleavage, being sexless. I found out that pretending to be intimidating works just as well as actually being it, so the air I put on of being this weathered badass put the biggest skeptic at ease.
Wouldn't it be really funny if I just rubbed one out while on the clock?
I slowly spun my chair around so that I wasn't facing the door anymore, and had a long hard stare at my gray pencil skirt. It was basically my partner in crime. A size too small, sure, but my butt looked fantastic in it. It was such a rush noticing the glances I get whenever I passed by someone. I would often catch their heads spinning around from the corner of my eye.
Down, boys.
Ofcourse, I made sure to not move my legs too much, as I worried it would ride up if I took too big a step.
I began to gently open my legs. Little by little, more of my thighs met the fluorescent glow.
How romantic.
I kept going until I was practically spread eagle. Like some female chimp exposing her genitals to a potential mate.
I was wearing my blue lace panties; no particular reason other than that it gave me the confidence that I needed for today. My other partner in crime, I suppose.
I inched my hand towards my crotch and gently pressed two fingers on my mound.
A gasp escaped me. I realised I haven't had the chance to masturbate in months.
My mind trailed off...
For a while now, it was just me and Petey. My relationship with my parents was rocky, but I had to swallow my pride and ask them to look after my son every once in a while.
This recent arrangement would have allowed more time for myself, had it not been for the fact that I needed to get more money for Petey's sake.
I snapped back to the issue at hand.
I slowly began drawing circles around my crotch, being careful not to stimulate my clit too much. My free hand found it's way to my chest. My breasts were tingling. I was blessed with a pair of DD's that were my main weapon to get shit done. I wore a white bra today because I didn't want to seem *too* intimidating. Not today atleast.
My offhand then trailed under my blouse and I felt my nipples begin to poke at the inside of the cups. I could feel my panties begin to dampen... when I suddenly heard a rustle outside.
I jolted up straight and quickly pulled my skirt down and adjusted my shirt.
"Ms. Anna, I-"
Kevin was back.
WHAT NOW?
my brain screamed. As I sat back down and spun around.
"Oh, did you forget something?"
"Uh, no. I just felt bad leaving you to stay behind while I got to go home. You know, with your son and all."
Goddammit, Kevin.
"Oh, don't worry about it, I called ahead and had my mother pick him up."
"Ah, that's good... th-that's good," he stuttered, "still, do you need any help? We can probably get it done quicker if the two of us work on it."
"No I-" and before I was able to finish he walked over and looked at the monitor.
"Oh..." he exclaimed, "you're done? Why didn't you send it yet?"
"No, I wanted to go over it a few more times, just to make sure everything's good."
"Then why did you attach it to an email already?"
That caught me off-guard. Usually, little Kevin was alot more agreeable... what's with the 20 questions?
"Oh, you know me, I usually jump the gun." I blatantly lied. If anything, I established much earlier how 'meticulous' I usually am. I thought that kind of reputation would serve me, but I guess, not this time; his face continued to display his increasing skepticism.
After a couple of seconds, he sat down.
"Ms. Anna, what's going on?"
That question felt like a punch to the gut.
What? Kevin? Meek little Kevin of all people is about to reprimand me? THE NERVE
"What do you mean?" I answered, evasively. His weathered face started to drop.
"Why did you ask to sit behind when you already finished it?"
"Well, like I said I--"
