A different narrative. Give it a chance if you can.
Knock, knock. The soft knocks fell on the door at the room at the end of the hall.
"Come in," she answered.
She opened the door just enough to enter, closed it behind her, and leaned back against the door.
She was sitting on the sofa with her legs drawn up under her.
"What took you so long?" she asked.
"He just now left. He was working late on something. I thought he would never leave."
"Is she coming?" she asked.
"No, not this time."
"So, just us?"
"Yeah. Just you and me."
The break room was a converted conference room that had been toned down. The big table had been removed along with the chairs and more comfortable living room-style furniture had been added. At one time the thought had been to add a pool table as a relaxing way to spend some down time from the intense, high-pressure, sales jobs. But, it was never done. Now there was just the oversized sofa, a couple of easy chairs, and the massage table.
Normally, someone was in here most of the time. But not on Friday after work. Everyone left for the weekend. Now it was their time.
"God, my cunt ached for you all afternoon," she said.
"Oh, god," she replied. "My tits grew a whole size just thinking about what you are going to do to them."
She shifted her position on the couch, slightly spreading her knees and pulling her skirt up slightly.
From the door she could almost tell that her panties were off.
"Come here," she said from the sofa, but she made no movement from the door.
"No, not yet," she replied as she lowered her hands to her hips and slowly raised them up past her waist, up her side, slightly brushing her breasts, lightly on her cheeks, and then high over her head. She held them there as she leaned against the door and looked straight at her on the sofa.
She squirmed a little on the sofa and her breathing increased slightly. Her hands were pushing her knees apart.
Maintaining constant eye contact, she slowly moved her hands down from over her head to the first button of her blouse. She unbuttoned the top button.
"Oh, god. Hurry," she said urgently from the sofa. There was no reply.
She didn't need to push her chest out to display herself, but she did so just the same, causing her blouse to strain against the remaining buttons.
On the couch, she opened her mouth a little to get more air.
She unbuttoned the second button.
"Oh, my god! You're wearing a slip!"
"It's silk. Just for you," she replied as she parted the sides of her blouse and unbuttoned the third button. She cupped her tits displaying them to her.
On the couch, she caught her breath. "You're killing me," she pleaded.
She smiled, unbuttoned the remaining buttons, and pulled the tail of her blouse out from her skirt. She lowered her arms and shrugged her shoulders, and the blouse floated down to the floor. Her low cut slip barely covered her bra which in turn barely contained her breasts. Again, she cupped her tits, holding them out, and kneaded the bare flesh of her cleavage with her thumbs.
Over on the couch, one hand disappeared under her skirt.
