The Accountant 3

Accountant Story

Joe E Hartley

(July 2010)

(Revised March 2018)

This piece is quite a bit longer and moves at a much slower pace that what I normally submit. It is also in a different writing style that I'm trying out, with limited dialog.

-Joe-

Sheila Grimson worked in a cubical next to mine at Shrumbs Insurance. She, like I, pour over numbers all day processing a very small part of the accounts receivable department.

Accounting is a profession that draws people who are more confident with numbers than actual flesh and blood bodies. Days may go by without any human contact either by phone or in person. We accountants prefer it that way.

I first saw Sheila two years, four months, and nine days ago when I was led to the cubical that would become my home. She slouched over her ledgers and keyed totals into the computer seated upon the small desk in front of her with her back exposed to me. I instantly felt her to be a kindred spirit imagining myself looking exactly the same to any casual glance.

We became good friends even though we never spoke to each other. I looked over at her a couple of times each day and always noticed her getting her decaf tea and pouring it into her china cup with saucer.

Accountants normally fear people, but inside we all know something is missing. I noticed Sheila found a way to fill this missing part inside of her.

I ride one of the elevators up to the ninth floor each morning and down again each evening. Sheila occasionally travels up or down in the same elevator car as I do. This is where I first noticed her little game.

Sheila likes crowed spaces: elevators, subways, busses, it doesn't matter as long as they are crowded with people, and the more crowded the better as far as she's concerned.

She pushes her body up close to the nearest man. First her ass presses against a man's leg or groin behind her, and if she doesn't get the response she wants she presses forward pushing her breasts into the back or arm of the man in front of her. She then turns as if she's trying to find more space, but actually rubbing her breast against this stranger.

Occasionally she finds a willing participant, but not as often as she would like and never as bold, as she wants. A hand stroking her ass brings a smile to her face. She pushes into that hand encouraging it to continue. She once had a hand on her breast. She enjoyed that immensely but it ended far too soon.

I started following her as she left work to see if she expanded this kink I had discovered. She takes the subway and I followed her, watching. I saw that she often pressed her butt against the male commuters but with no reaction from anyone. It was as if all the men are more interested in getting home than her. She feared they actually weren't interested in her, but I thought to be closer to the truth, they didn't even notice her considering the movement of the train car.

She didn't wear fashionable clothes, or even anything that would indicate her figure. Sheila had a lifetime behind her of trying not to be noticed and blending into the background.

I followed and watched her for a week feeling her frustration. I formed a plan. I had been attracted to her for months, and knew what she wanted/needed. I could gladly supply that missing part of her life.

I laid out a plan over the weekend and accounted for every detail. I wrote it all out. This plan would take two weeks and slowly show her that someone does notice. I checked the plan for errors; it needed to be subtle, but not too subtle. I explored every path my moves could take, and once I could see the end result clearly, I was ready for Monday evening.

She was too subtle in her moves, she was an accountant and not used to making overt moves for what she wanted. I now had a plan to move her out of the shadows and into my arms.

Monday found both of us at our desks. We had exchanged looks at each other with no emotion or words. It was our way.

The hours seemed to drag on today for no apparent reason. The routine today was the same as every other day—posting numbers into a spreadsheet, checking them several times, making copies and forwarding the work to my superior to be checked again before I was allowed to post them into the system.

One thing that may be different today was the fact that I had a plan for this evening; something that rarely happened. I glanced over to the cubical next to mine and saw Sheila's rounded back as she fingered her keyboard. On the way home tonight I would implement a plan of my own design and one that would end the frustration so apparent to anyone who bothered to look at the woman in the cubical next to mine.

Finally five o'clock arrived and I tried not to rush. It was important for me to follow Sheila and not accidently get onto a different subway car than she did. She gathered her things and walked out the door, not looking at anything other than to avoid bumping into things. Her submissive posture continues in the way she walked with her head lowered avoiding eye contact and staying near the walls, never walking down the center of the hallway. Watching her move, I noticed the oversized clothes she wore. It was hard to see the sway of her hips as she walked, but my imagination filled in the details without hesitation.

I followed as she continued on her slow pace towards the subway. It was crowed being rush hour. She entered one of the cars and I made sure that I was directly behind her. She worked her way toward the back and faced the wall as she reached up to grab the handhold. I positioned myself directly behind her grabbing the handhold next to the one she gripped. I didn't press my body up to hers; I wondered if she would press up against me and after a minute I wasn't disappointed. It was so slight that if I wasn't expecting it, I would not have noticed.

I brushed the back of my hand lightly across her butt. Her head rose from its downward gaze. Neither of us moved for what seemed like years. She seemed to be waiting to see if what just happened actually happened. I then felt her press her backside against my hand and as she did I again slid the back of my hand, and fingers this time, lightly across her. I then moved back. The subway slowed approaching her stop. She departed and I think I noticed a smile and her head didn't seem as low as it was before.

Reviewing the plan I wrote, it seemed that phase one went well. Sheila had pressed against me, she had not recognized me, and I had responded to her. I think she enjoyed the exchange. I would see if there was any change in her behavior tomorrow.

The following day turned out to be every bit as slow as before. I was anxious to touch Sheila again. I know I have to move slowly so as not to overwhelm her, but the small touch last night had electrified me. I knew what I had to do tonight, but the only problem was for me to stay with the plan instead of pushing too hard too fast. I had looked at this possibility when I wrote out this plan. Just because Sheila acted submissively, she had a tiger inside of her clawing to get out. She could be easily scared and call the cops on me if I tried to force her.

Again, after what seemed to be a month, five o'clock arrived and I again followed her out. I hadn't noticed any change in her behavior today, but now she seemed to be moving just a bit faster. Her head was still lowered and she still moved along the wall, but her pace had increased.

We arrived at the subway station and had to wait a bit. I think I noticed her glancing around when she thought no one would notice. Was she looking for that person who touched her yesterday?

The train arrived and just like before we took up our relative positions. I kept my distance just like yesterday, but this time I left my hand close to her ass, so when she moved back it would be into my open palm instead of my leg like yesterday. It would still be a casual and accidental touch, but I would leave my hand in contact with her a bit longer than most would. I had calculated that normally people would remove their hand within one second after an accidental intimate touch with or without a murmured "excuse me". I planned on leaving my hand in place for a count of three. That would indicate it was intentional with still leaving a shadow of a doubt that it may have been accidental.

I waited for her move, growing fearful that she might not want to play the game any more. When finally she moved back and into my hand. She quivered as if to move away, but then settled back into my hand. She had refused the normal convention of moving away within one second. I felt a silent cheer as I saw progress. Now I had to make sure not to scare her off. I started my mental count: one, two, three, four, five. I forced my hand away. What was I doing? That was too long, but her warmth flowing into my hand was too much for me. I didn't want it to end.

My mind raced. How can I save this? Should I move back? Her stop was still minutes away and I really didn't want to move. Her scent filled my nostrils. I knew I should move back so she wouldn't think I would attack her.

I had just decided to take a step back when I felt her butt again press against my hand. This was not in the plan and I didn't know what to do. The train started to slow and without consciously deciding I squeezed her right buttock and then took a step back turning around. The train stopped and I felt her move toward the exit. I think she looked up and scanned the area she had vacated looking for the owner of that hand.

I needed a moment to catch my breath after that. She didn't seem upset and she wasn't racing to get off the train. I hope I didn't push too hard. That was stupid of me, but it felt so good. I will be reliving this in my mind for the rest of the night.

It took another hour for me to get home and revise the plan. So much depended on how she reacted tomorrow. Would she be more sullen and reserved than normal? Would she choose to work later so as to avoid the unknown person on the train?

Walking into work, I noticed that Sheila was already at her desk with her cup of tea. I couldn't tell if anything was different, but I had two new plans now -one for each reaction she might take. If I had offended her, I would back away, wait a few days before starting over. The other scenario was more of a fantasy in that what I would do if she liked what had happened. I was certain I wouldn't be using that plan, but I did have it and it was very enjoyable to write and think about as a possibility.

Around 10, I noticed that Sheila got herself another cup of tea. Being employees we are entitled to a midmorning break, but neither Sheila nor I ever took one out of fear of losing our jobs. She seemed a bit distracted today. I'm sure last night had affected her and I resolved to not touch her tonight. She was late coming back from lunch by one and one half minutes. Something was on her mind to be distracting her so badly. At 2 in the afternoon she got another cup of tea. I had never seen her have more than one and that was in the morning.

I glanced over at her and noticed she was watching the clock. Was she planning on leaving early to avoid the five o'clock commute? Is that why she was already at work when I arrived?

I really screwed this up with my lust and I don't know what I can do. I'll have to just give it time and develop anther plan. I noticed at 4 o'clock she was still at her desk. The subways run every hour and if she were going to take the earlier one she needed to leave now. She made no more at getting her things together, so maybe I still had a shot at my revised plan. I would just take it easy, but I could still be close to her.

At ten minutes before five I noticed her watching the clock intensely. She was counting the minutes until she could leave. This was so unlike her. I made sure my things were ready to grab too.

There was also the possibility that she had found another way home. Was there a bus that went in that direction?

At 5 o'clock Sheila moved with purpose, She wasn't running, but moving faster than normal. She looked forward instead of at the floor and was not moving along the wall. I followed her and was surprised when we ended up at the subway station. We were almost five minutes early. She looked around the crowd, but I don't think she noticed me. I, like her, had practiced being invisible most of my life.

The train arrived and we both entered. She went to her normal spot and I followed. I didn't stand as close as I have been, but the train was crowded and I was pushed closer. I waited to see what would happen. Part of my fantasy flashed in my mind. I knew this wasn't real, but thinking about it aroused me.

The train started to move and within just a few seconds I felt her pushing against me. My mind raced. What was in the alternate plan that I could actually use? I pulled away from her and brought my hand back to her buttock. I squeezed and kneaded her, then positioned her to press against my groin. She ground her butt into me. I released my hold on the overhead strap and used both hands to massage her butt, rolling each cheek outwards as I pushed my groin into her.

She never moved away and I lost track of what my plan said I was to do. Before I knew it the train was started to slow. I quickly released her and moved back into the crowds. I glanced back towards the exit from behind a large woman. I noticed that Sheila was again searching for anyone she might think was the owner of those hands.

I didn't get much sleep that night due to reviewing and rewriting the fantasy scenario. I relived the moments my hands were on her ass over and over again. I wanted more and I think she did too. The commute to her home wasn't long enough. I have to move my agenda forward. I needed to touch her more and more intimately, but how was I to know how much was too much, or worse, not enough. What I thought was too much before turned out to be just right. She had looked forward to more and was eager to place herself in a position to get what she wanted. I pushed quite a bit further tonight than I thought I should. Squeezing her butt and pressing my groin against her wasn't scheduled until next week.

My original plan for tomorrow was to place my full hand on her butt for half a minute and maybe run my finger up her butt crack. I think we have gone past that point now. I think if she reacts at work the way she did today I will move ahead on the plan. I will stroke her butt and then press against her while I run my hands up her sides and give her breasts a squeeze. I know I'm pushing it, but she has surprised me with her reaction today. She was so distracted at work thinking about what would come next. I just hope I didn't disappoint her. I can't wait to see how she reacts to feeling my erection against her.

I think I finally fell asleep at about 4 AM and was shocked when the alarm wert off at 6. I got to work on time, but I was dragging, that is until I saw her. She looked as if she didn't get much sleep either and gave me a funny sort of look. We never looked at each other and as is typical for us avoided eye contact with people, but there it was she looked me in the eye. It didn't last long, a second or two, but it was there—full on eye contact. She may have an idea that I am the one touching her, but she's not sure.

The day passed, I think I'm adjusting to this new schedule; the one where I have plans for the evening even if it is for only twenty minutes. Sheila again had several cups of tea. This might be a new pattern for her. We left at 5 PM and for all outward appearances we looked the same as we had for the last two plus years. I noticed the difference. Sheila now walked two feet away from the wall and her eyes now focused on a spot ten feet in front of her. Her pace had also increased, but I think I was the only one to notice that.

We arrived at the subway station and waited for our train. Sheila didn't look around. I think she knows who is groping her on her way home. I'm torn. My original plan was to remain anonymous until next week, but we are ahead of that schedule.

We found our respective spots on the train and before the doors closed she pressed herself into me. I was ready, my hands were in place and I glided my hand up her butt crack. She leaned into me a bit and I used both of my hands to knead her cheeks, lifting and separating in circular patterns. I then pressed my groin against her and grabbing her hips pulled her back against my erection.

We settled like that for a bit and she started to rotate her hips grinding into me. I knew I hadn't gone too far and pushed my hands up her sides and under her armpits. I rested there again checking her response. She moved her arms away and I moved my hands forward and onto her breasts. She wore a thick bra, but I squeezed both breasts and move across where her nipples should be. The train started to slow and this time I didn't move away nor stop my caresses. She still pressed hard against my erection and when the train finally stopped I lowered my hands and she walked towards the exit. I stayed where I was and didn't try to hide. She stopped at the doorway and looked back at me. We made eye contact again and then she left the train.

At home later that night, I poured over the plan I had written less than a week ago. It seems as if years have passed since then and I never imagined I would be at this stage with Sheila. There were two very intimate exchanges. We made eye contact with each other. The first being only a second, but the last was much longer. This is the most intimate I have ever been with another human being and I can believe that it's a first for Sheila as well.

Massaging her ass almost sent me over the edge and placing my hand in the recesses of her crease made her squirm a bit. It was so warm and inviting that I just had to press my hardness into that crease. I tried to slow down fearful that I might embarrass her, but her actions indicated that she wanted to continue. I want so much more—I'll find my way under her skirt soon.

Now I'm hard all over again. I'll never get this plan done. Thinking of her is too distracting. I could live on the memories of what has happened so far and have a very full fantasy life.

"Stop!" I told myself. We are not done yet and every indication is that this plan could advance much further. I think tomorrow I will just repeat what happened today and allow her to set the pace; of course I may lift her skirt a bit.

Work had become a necessary evil, instead of my reason for living. It was just something I had to suffer through each day until the excitement began.

I completed the spreadsheets just like I have been doing these last almost two and a half years, but this time I only checked them twice. I'm still an accountant and hate errors. I still made a copy, and then forwarded them to my superior. I actually completed more work today than normal since I refused to check and recheck work I knew to be right out of fear what might happen should an error be found. I think I learned that from Sheila. I had thought I had made numerous errors with her, but they turned out to be better than the original plan. She is turning out to be very good for me in so many ways.

I think I just decided to not wait until I got to the subway to fondle her ass, but to give a gentle caress/ or slight brush on our way to the terminal. I will also get my hand under she skirt.

At noon Sheila went out for her lunch and it appeared she wore a different style of clothing today. Maybe I'm focused on lifting her skirt too much, but it does appear that her skirt is a little shorter. Didn't she normally wear floral patterns? It would be helpful if I knew more about fashion and what people actually wore, but I've always just looked at clothes as something functional, not decorative. I thought Sheila believed the same. Maybe she did and what she is wearing now is something new.