"WHERE THE FUCK IS HE?"
The door flung open violently assaulting the wall with a large thunk. While I couldn't see you for my back was turned to the door, the look on Dean, Harry and Frank's faces told me what I would have seen: your face red with both anger and embarrassment, your hands furled into tight fists -- hell, even if they weren't here, the heavy puffed breathing you were loudly emitting from trying to calm yourself down enough to speak would have given me a clue. Without turning around, pretending to be focusing my attention on the blueprints on the table to hide my smile, I asked, "Something a matter?"
You had several false starts then finally blurted out, "Ooh...ooh...you're such a...such a...GUY!" You then continued your huffing.
I turned to look at you, giving you my best hurt look as I said with mock despair, "I nary a clue of which you speak -- I merely am perusing the plans with my compatriots and you come in here like a hound dawg chompin' at her fleas."
The blackness in your eyes began to disappear behind your eyelids as they became thin slits as you snarled, "I know it was you!"
"Me?"
"You!"
"Me what?"
Through gritted teeth you barked, "The bathroom...it was your..."
"Madam!" I said with a high English accent, not being able but to give a small smile. "I am a gentleman -- I always flush and put the seat back down!"
"That's not it and you fucking well know it!"
"MADAM," I replied with a small dignified sniff, "I most assuredly do not!"
You said nothing more but glared at me for another moment before turning on your heels and walking out, your fists still uncurling and curling as you slammed the door.
Harry, Frank and Dean all stared at me. Dean spoke up, "what the fuck? This shit between the two of you has to stop before it becomes a full out war."
The games had started shortly after you had started working here a few months ago -- I had made a comment to one of the other women in the office and you spun off into some tirade, the gist was that I was an unthinking pig. With a challenge like that, how else was I supposed to respond? I switched your creamer with white glue. From then on it was who could top who. Last week you thought you had one, I had to admit that hiring a transvestite to come to the job site and profess his love for me in front of the entire crew was good.
I gave a laugh and nodded my head in agreement; after all, I fully expected that you would concede that I finally got you so bad that there was no way to top it. I had come in early to the office to rig my crowning glory -- I let every one know what I was doing so that the set up was perfect: only one working light, two hours of 'maintenance' on the ladies washroom to let your natural bodily functions build up to a bursting pressure.
I was about to say something when you stormed back in, once again slamming the door loudly behind you. You flung the 10" dildo that I had spring rigged to 'arise' from the bowl when there was pressure applied on the seat squarely at my forehead. It hit dead on and dropped upright tip first into the coffee cup in my hand, the spring mechanism was still partially attached.
I looked down at the dildo in the cup, grabbed hold of it and swirled my coffee with it. I took it out and held it out and snipped, "Well if you were looking for some lube for your tight little..."
You cut me off with one fluid motion. You took 6" of the dildo straight into your mouth until your lips touched my knuckles and slowly slid it back out of your mouth; there was a slight popping sound as you smacked your lips together. You locked eyes with me and with a wicked smile you cooed, "I prefer chocolate." Then you strode back out of the room leaving me looking at you leave and the dildo still pointing straight out, though hanging a little limply.
The guys all smiled at me and Frank piped in with, "Well, dude, I think you're going to have to change what you mean when you call her a mouthy bitch, eh?" I laughed and put the dildo down and urged everyone to get back to business.
The afternoon passed quickly while I concentrated on evaluating what materials were needed for the new job. I hadn't noticed that everyone had slowly left the office and gone home. When I did finally tear myself away from the invoices, it was just me in the conference room and through the open door I could see that you were still at your desk, inputting in old invoices. The clock read six -- I didn't realize how late it was; we'd be the only ones here. This might not be so good I thought to myself; time to leave before you realized that there were no witnesses that could befoul any reprisal for the dildo in the toilet.
As I passed your desk I said a quiet "good night" and made my way for the exit. You called me back -- oh fuck. I thought about pretending not to have heard, but I didn't think that would have worked, besides there was a first aid kit in here -- I'd have better chance of not bleeding to death in here than in the parking lot.
I walked back to your desk and asked what you wanted. You got up and came around to stand beside me. I looked at your hands to make sure that there wasn't an envelope opener in it.
"That was a pretty infantile stunt this morning," you stated tersely. You then gave a little smile and added in a more softer tone, "If we were in elementary school, I'd say that you had a crush on me."
I felt the blood rushing from one head to another; I don't know why because until that point, I hadn't even really looked at you in that way. I hadn't noticed curves that had filled your sweater, the way your jeans hugged your hips, the slight camel toe...oh fuck, this was not the time to feel my dick moving about.
"Fortunately we're not in school," I replied, shuffling around a bit, dropping my hands casually down around my groin to cover any cues that I was beginning to get turned on.
You stepped a little closer, and bit your bottom lip slightly before you said, "No we're not. But I think you want to kiss me but you're too afraid of rejection to just do it."
Now I felt a little intimidated but spurned by the challenge. I put my hands to the side of your face and pulled your face closer to me firmly but lightly. I placed my lips on yours, sucking your lips with mine and slid my hands from your face, down your arms and ending up holding on to your waist. I figured that you would feign disinterest but you forced your tongue into my mouth and slid your left hand to trace the outline quickly growing in the front of my pants.
My mind raced with the different possibilities -- my first thought that you were fucking with my head; in a moment you would pull away and wave goodbye leaving me to suffer with the pressure built up within the constraints of my jeans. It would serve me right, but fuck was I going to be in a world of pain. The second possibility was that I was being set up for public humiliation; get me hard, get me to drop my pants, whip out your cell phone, snap a picture and then all your friends within seconds have a picture of me standing with a hard on with my pants at my knees. The third and least plausible all the shit I had pulled on you turned you on and wanted you me.
You broke off the kiss and stepped back. I stood there, my lips still puckered. I was broken from my thoughts when you said, "I didn't think you had the balls to do it...but after I had a feeling just now that you liked it." You reached over and touched the bulge in my pants, "I'd also say you wished it was your cock instead of plastic one this morning." You gave it a squeeze.
I turned red and pulled out the dildo that I had stuffed in my pocket to give to a friend as a joke later that night and put it on your desk.
You looked down at the desk and stammered out, "Er, well, yes..." You put your hand out again to my crotch and gave a gentle rub. You looked up and with an unsure look asked, "You don't have another one do you? Is this the real deal?"