I often work late on an evening. I like the fact that it's quiet and there are no distractions. It's a large open plan office but my desk is tucked away in a corner that rarely sees any activity, except me, after about 5.30. Until tonight...
Tonight, David is there too.
Every woman in the office has thought about David at some point, although many would refuse to admit it. He's older than me by several years. He's confident, almost cocky at times and has the ability to turn women into nervous wrecks just by sitting close to them. I've often laughed at how strong, confident, independent women start giggling like schoolgirls, tilting their heads slightly and curling their hair around their fingers whenever he stops to talk to them. I was pleased to report that until this evening I was not one of those women.
I look up from my desk and smile when I catch his gaze. He notices then starts walking over towards me, probably I thought, just to pass some time before he calls it a day. He sits down close to me, maybe a little too close. In fact I'm sure that I noticed him moving a couple of files to one side so that he could edge his chair a little closer still. Instinctively I try to move my chair back but he's already moved his foot behind the leg of the chair, preventing it from budging an inch. I'm a little startled and begin to ask him what he's playing at, presuming that he's simply messing about. But before the words can leave my mouth he raises a finger to my lips. I don't know why but I follow his instruction and stay quiet. I'm not frightened of him but he's making me feel nervous. I can't decide whether I like the feeling.
I try to stand up, to break the tension and create some space between us but as I do he stands up too. He's a lot taller than me and I realise from how close he's standing and the way that he's looking at me that he isn't planning on letting me past him. He holds the top of my arms and directs me backwards until I feel the ledge of the windowsill touching the small of my back preventing me from moving any further.
He moves closer to me, reaching one hand to rest on my hip whilst the other runs across my shoulder allowing my cardigan to slip loosely around my arms. His fingers are slowly unbuttoning my dress and yet I'm totally frozen, unable it seems to respond. I can hear the faint sound of voices in the office, around the corner but only maybe 5 seconds away if they decided to have a short stroll. His hand is working its' way up my thigh, beyond the length of my skirt and his other hand is grabbing my breasts firmly, playing with my nipples through the thin lace of my bra. I'm desperately trying to bring myself to my senses and put an end to the encounter but his fingers are playing with the lace trim of my panties now and my body doesn't want him to stop.