Now, I was in a world of hurt. It seemed like all I ever thought about was money. Well, money... and sex. I had been teaching for a while, which I enjoyed, but when my wife Emily decided we weren't making enough to get by, she insisted I find a more lucrative job. And when my wife insisted on something, it meant I wasn't getting anywhere near that wonderful cunt until she got her way.
That's how I ended up working a desk job for a producer, basically a glorified secretary. It was agony. I was over qualified. But it paid better than teaching.
Every dime that didn't go to rent went into her art gallery. And the worst part is that she didn't even let up and start fucking me again. I was bored and out of my mind horny. I used to come home, hoping she wouldn't be there so I could steal a pair of her panties and stroke myself off, giving myself some very temporary relief.
I used to think about how my life used to be before I met her. Fucking whoever I wanted without much regard. As much sex as I wanted. I felt so pathetic now having to resort to jerking off all the time. It made me angry. She was supposed to be my wife. But she seemed more distant than ever. More distant and more beautiful. I started to wonder if she was cheating on me. How else could she stand to never get fucked when I knew she enjoyed it?
I hated my job and I was starting to hate her for making me take it. About the only good thing about it was that my boss had a daughter that would pop in from time to time. Her name was Gracy. She was only about 20 years old, with long brown hair and a beautiful curvy figure. Whenever she would visit, usually to ask her dad for more money, she'd stop by my desk to flirt with me.
Once, I was so horny after one of her little visits that I snuck into my boss's office while he was out to lunch and jerked off to a picture of her he had on his desk. I wasn't proud of it. But it was that or completely lose my mind. She became the center of my fantasy world. I started to think of her as I stroked myself off more than I thought of my wife. But it was under control. I wasn't stupid. I'd never risk my job or my marriage over some silly rich girl.
That's what I thought until the office Christmas party which I was obliged to attend. I couldn't stand anyone else in my office, and of course Emily had bailed on me for God knows what. So I was forced to make the most of it by downing a few whiskeys on the company dime and trying to keep to myself.
I was heading up to the roof for a smoke when I heard something in the stair well. I peeked around the corner and couldn't believe what I saw.
There was Gracy in front of some douchebag... her date, I supposed, I didn't recognize him from the office... I couldn't get a clear view but it looked like she was pumping away at his cock with her hand, giggling shamelessly. She was wearing the shortest little black dress I had ever seen. My cock was instantly hard.
I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I knew I shouldn't keep watching but I seemed to be quite frozen there. That is until she caught my eye. Oh, shit.
I disappeared around the corner as quickly as I could, went down the hall and disappeared into an empty office. I was embarrassed, terrified I would somehow get fired for this, but at the same time... still so fucking hard.
I didn't dare go back out there with this big hardon, right? What choice did I have?
I quickly unzipped my pants and took out my hard dick. I needed to make this fast. Thank God, whoever this desk belonged to had some lotion in the drawer. I slathered it on and started beating my cock silly, imagining being that douchebag, imagining that little manicured hand tugging away until streams and streams of cum shot out into my waiting tissue.
As soon as that was done, I ghosted the party and made my way home. Emily was there, already asleep. And with her next to me, I lie awake completely unable to get the image out of my head of that girl jerking off that stranger.
I returned to the office the next day anxious and bleary. Would she have told her father? Would I be called into his office and get the axe? How would I explain it to my wife?
But when half the day went by without anything happening, I finally began to relax. She was probably embarrassed too, I reasoned. Why in the world would she tell her father what I had seen? Another cup of coffee later, and my mood had totally turned around. There was nothing to worry about! I got a free little peep show, I should just enjoy the memory. It was all a big accident anyway.
It was with this fresh new attitude and only 20 minutes left on the clock when guess who flounced into the door. Oh, God dammit. I tried to bury myself in my computer screen. But it was too late, she had seen me and was coming over.
"Hi, Jon," she said slyly.
"Hi Gracy," I said coolly, trying not to take my eyes off the screen.
"Did you have fun at the party?" she purred.
"Not particularly."
"That's too bad. I did."
I glanced up at her. She had the most wicked grin on her face. And I couldn't help notice her particularly low cut blouse. Man, she had some beautiful big tits.
"I was thinking," she began. "Maybe you should give me your number."
"Why?"
"In case I need you to get in touch with Dad."
That didn't make sense to me. It was an excuse, but for what? But she couldn't mean-
"You don't mean my personal number?"
"Sure," she said casually, still grinning.
I glanced around to make sure no one in the office could overhear. Most people were gathering up there things and getting ready to leave, their minds already on what they would do once they were out of here.
"I couldn't do that," I said softly.
"Why not?"
"I'm not sure it would be appropriate," I tried. "Your dad's my boss-"
"Why not? We can be friends, can't we?"
"Friends?"
"Sure there's no rule against that, is there?"
"I'm pretty sure there must be," I insisted.
She giggled and my mind flashed back to that giggle I heard in the stairwell... I could feel myself getting hard again. No, no no!
"Come on, I won't tell anybody. And you know how to keep a secret... don't you?"
She meant the stairwell. What the fuck.
"Yeah. I know how to keep a secret," I said defensively.
"Then give me your number."
I wasn't sure how, but it felt like she had me trapped. Guiltily I scribbled my number out on a post it note. I passed it across the desk to her, making one more check that no one was paying attention. In a very soft voice I added, "You know I'm married right?"
"I'm sorry what?" she said sarcastically pretending not to hear. And then she giggled again seeing the look on my face. "Don't worry about it," she assured me. "I'll keep it work related. I promise."
And with that, she flounced off.
All the way home on the subway I wondered what the hell kind of mind game she was up to. I was really starting to get anxious and I needed to fuck something.
Unfortunately my wife was once again unwilling to comply. I got home to see her dressed to the nines, looking absolutely stunning. But when I kissed her and tried to feel her up, she wriggled away and said "Sorry, I'm meeting some people for drinks tonight to arrange a show."
Drinks again? And with whom? She didn't even bother telling me anymore. I suppose it would be just me home alone again, trying to distract myself with a book or some dumb TV. Or porn. Again. Ugh. Pathetic.
The night dragged on. The longer Emily was gone, the more agitated I got. It was already passed 11 and I had texted her several times and got no answer. She was on a date, I was sure of it. And the bitch had the audacity to lie to my face about it. This woman was supposed to love me. This woman made me promise to always be honest with her. I had always kept my promise. And where had it gotten me?
I just had to shut my mind up, try to get some sleep. I made myself a hot toddy, and was just climbing into bed when my phone lit up with a text. I wondered what amazing explanation my wife had for her radio silence.
But that wasn't my wife's number.
And there was no message. Just a three second video. Nervously, I clicked it. And there was Gracy... she looked like she might be naked, but all that was in frame was her face and shoulders. There was a faint buzzing in the background and... She was looking right into the camera and she was... she was moaning, she was... she was cumming, I realized. So that was her idea of work related?!
Stunned, I watched the clip over and over again. Even though I couldn't see her body, it was so incredibly erotic. Her lazy stare into the camera, the way she squealed and bit her lip. I took my cock out of my boxers and started masturbating furiously.
Until I heard the key in the door.
Quick is a flash I shut my phone off, turned away and pretended to be asleep. I heard my wife stumble in and kick off her shoes, clearly a few drinks in. "Jon?"
I didn't answer. I don't know why. But I was terrified she'd see the guilt on my face. That she'd know what I had been doing. I felt humiliated.
She got undressed and flopped down into bed next to me. Dead asleep in no time flat. I wondered if someone had fucked her tonight. I wondered if after a few drinks someone had bent her over and made her cum.
I grimaced and closed my eyes tightly. But anxious thoughts of my wife drifted away and were replaced with that glorious three second video replaying itself in my mind again and again... lulling me to sleep and happy dreams.
Much to my relief, Gracy didn't show up at the office again for the next few weeks. I would however, check my phone almost compulsively for another message even though I had never responded for the first one. I was dying for more. Three seconds was so agonizingly short.
Finally, in a moment of boredom and weakness I shot her a quick text: "I liked it."
Almost instantly she replied: "Oh Good. I was beginning to think I had the wrong number ;)"
I shut my phone off guiltily. What was I doing? Engaging with her could only make this worse. But I couldn't stop thinking about those pink lips. Or that short dress.
I powered it up again. My phone vibrated again several times in quick succession. I was afraid to look. But I had to:
"Did you jerk off?"
"I think you should."
"At the office. lol"
Horrified, I deleted all the texts. I hesitated before I deleted the video, but it had to be done. Besides, the permanent copy in my head was not going away. There's no way she could have known... what I had done twice already, right? Both times thinking about her... right? This had to stop. I was never doing that again. There was no way I was risking everything for that ditzy flirt!
I couldn't keep my mind on work for the rest of the afternoon. I was making mistakes left and right. My mind was a total mess. I couldn't go on like this, I realized. There was only one thing to do: when I got home, I had to have a nice long conversation with my wife. I had to be honest with her, like I promised her I would. Tell her I felt lost. Tell her I needed her to be less distant and more in my life. Tell her I had been... tempted. Yes, even that part. She'd understand. She was smart. She'd know what to do about it one way or the other, we just had to talk.
That decision made, I experienced some relief. I got through the rest of the day and was on my way out the door when my boss stopped me in the vestibule. Oh Christ...
"Need you to stick around tonight, Jon. Sorry, son, but we gotta get this contract ironed out before tomorrow."
"Oh, but..."
"Gonna need you to stay and field some calls from L.A. You'll get overtime, of course."
"Of course." Why couldn't he take his own damn calls after hours? Everything was about appearances with this man. With the whole industry! He didn't care that I had a life or even that I was a real person.
"You'll be outta here probably by eight. Now just sit tight."
Crestfallen I returned to my desk outside his office. That talk would have to wait. Everything would have to wait. I watched all my coworkers walk out one by one until it was just me and the boss in the next room. I had absolutely nothing to do but pick up the phone now and then. I fired up Netflix and sat back in my chair. Nothing to do but wait for the damn call.
The hours ticked by. I was bored out of my mind, itching to leave my desk, itching for... some sort of distraction. I opened a text to my wife and started to type: "I miss you."
But I was interrupted by another text. It was... her again.
"Uh oh, hope I didn't scare you away."
I stared. I shouldn't. But... I couldn't help myself.
"Sorry. Busy day at the office. Still here."
"Noooo, Daddy doesn't have you there THIS late on a Friday does he? What a slave driver."
I smiled to myself just as Daddy himself burst out of his office. I stood, hoping he would tell me I could get on out of here but one look at his face and I could tell I'd have no such luck.
