Alans Thoughts Ch 01

Alan Miller remembered at the last minute it was casual Wednesday, shucked off his grey polo, and put on an Oregon Ducks t-shirt.

He glanced at it in the mirror by his apartment door: it was a little tight, but in the right places, so he threw on his sunglasses, grabbed his bag and left for work.

His early-2000s Honda Accord didn't exactly roar to life, but started with only a slight cough before humming softly. Traffic at 9:30 on the freeway was light (lighter than true rush hour, anyway) and after fifteen minutes, he parked in a spot that would be shady by the time he got off at 7:30. Alan buzzed passed the glass door with his employee badge, the one with the big "Brilliant Innovations" company title and it's waterfall logo, he took the stairs up to the office on the second floor.

"Hi Alan!" his supervisor Tyler said quietly, waving from where sat in the cubicle near the door, next to the admin's high desk.

He hesitated for just a brief moment, shifting from one foot to the other. "Uh, morning," he said, a little quickly.

"I see you've jumped on the Duck bandwagon."

Alan blinked. "But, I'm from Oregon."

"What about Oregon State?"

"What about them?"

Tyler frowned at that. "Good point." Then his phone rang, and he quickly turned back to his desk.

Blowing out a breath, Alan moved passed him to the second cubicle on the left. It was a wide one that he shared with three other people. Jane did not look up--she was too busy glaring at a stack of papers she was prepping. Her corner of the cubicle was framed by pictures of her children in sports gear. Anita, to her left, nodded absently at him so that her poofy gray hair wagged, staring off into the distance. To the right, next to Alan's desk, was Laurel.

Laurel sat typing, wearing a big pair of designer headphones. Her brown hair shifted as she looked between monitors, twinkling with blond highlights as it cascaded over her back in goddess curls. She reached for her drink, and Alan couldn't help but watch as her plain grey v-neck stretched over her chest.

Just the smallest hint of cleavage peaked out of the fabric, like the tip of an iceberg. Alan followed it to the corner of his eye as he walked, but soon he arrived at his seat, and had to break away. The image of her lingered--that full figure, her finely plucked eyebrows and perfect nose. That, and the photos pinned to her wall of her with her tall, beach-bodied, frosted-tipped boyfriend.

Alan sighed and sat, logging in. He pulled out his phone, the massive six inch beast, from his bag and put it on its stand. He paused and stared at it. In the reflection from the darkened screen, he could see her in full view. The way she paused to stretch, that shirt pulling even tighter. He couldn't help but imagine how they might look if she wore something just a little sexier. Something silky, lower cut, cream-colored...

Laurel suddenly paused, tilting her head. She frowned, looking down at herself. Then she quickly looked around. Even though he was pretty sure she couldn't see how his phone was positioned, Alan's eyes still snapped back to his screen, and began opening programs he'd need to start his work day.

He could have sworn she was looking at him: he could feel her eyes. But when he got the courage to glance her way, she was already engrossed in her screen again.

***

Traffic was tighter the next day, but Alan had left ten minutes earlier than usual, so ended up arriving about the same time as normal anyway. He checked his face in the rear view mirror. He frowned. He could stand to lose ten pounds, he thought.

On the second floor, he spotted Tyler in the big boss's office in a meeting. The boss's administrative assistant, Ally, smiled at him as he passed her desk as the front.

"Morning, Alan!" she said.

He smiled back shyly. "Hi Ally!"

Ally was dark haired and very tan, small and slender behind the tall front desk. She favored thick eyeliner on her top eyelids, and had long eyelashes that matched her black blouse. She wore a yellow scarf tied loosely on her neck, and a pair of grip strength trainers in her hand.

Looking at her, Alan had the sudden thought that you couldn't see her from the waist down behind that desk. She could easily be just wearing a pair of shorts and flip flops, or a high mini skirt. She could be reaching down with a hand into her waistband, touching the soft skin underneath where no one could see....

He blushed slightly, and to his surprise, she did too. They stared at each other an instant more, then he abruptly moved on to his desk with an awkward wave. He sat quickly, taking a deep breath. What had brought that on?

Shaking himself, he logged in, and after going to the jug in the corner to his water bottle, got to work. He glanced sideways, and noticed Laurel in her seat. He pulled his phone out of his bag and set it in its stand again, setting it to just the right angel. He glanced at it, then did a double take. Then he had to turn around.

Laurel wore a silky, creamy colored top. Its hemline dipped much lower than something she usually would have worn, framed by a small black sweater. He could feel the groin of his khakis get just a little tighter.

Before he could look away, Jane suddenly turned to her and said, "Hey, Laurel, you got a sec?"

Laurel took off her headphones, turning to her. "What's up?"

"It's cake day down in the break room," Jane said, eyes bright. "Wanna go?"

Laurel smiled. "Sure! I'm totally up for that."

"They've got carrot," Jane said, rising. "Usually I try to skip cake day, but I just can't resist carrot."

"If they have chocolate, I'm there," Laurel said. She got up from her chair, and the two women began to walk away.

"They always have chocolate," Jane said. "It's like a law."

They were about to leave, but Laurel paused and glanced at him. "Oh, hi Alan!" she said, smiling politely.

"Morning, Laurel," Alan said. He was careful to meet her eyes, even though he really wanted to drift down to her chest. She held that smile on him for just a moment. But then she turned, following Jane. Alan watched the sway of that ass of hers, packed tightly into her skinny slacks. If she put on a pair of heels instead of flats, a nice high skirt... He imagined her sway, walking like she liked the eyes on her, like she deserved them...

He sighed when she disappeared around the wall of the cubicle. [Funny about her top, though,] he thought.

***

Alan blinked his eyes open. The light was streaming into his bedroom, breaking up the dream he was having. There was a girl with a long, smooth body in a blue dress that hugged everything, her panties around her ankles, giving him a look that practically burned, and his father was there for some reason, talking about fishing in Alaska... His eyes snapped to his alarm clock.

"Shit," he said. He threw off the covers, pulled off his clothes and hit the shower. He still had his boner until the cold water hit.

He made it into work 15 minutes late. It wasn't a problem--he could arrive as much as a half hour late and be fine--but he had work to do, and it threw off his schedule. He didn't like feeling rushed.

He rushed up the steps, legs pumping. As he passed the front desk, he glanced to see Tyler talking with Raina Wei from HR. His stride abruptly geared down to an amble.

Raina had long, blue black hair, and even though she was some mix of Asian, she had very, very nice curves. Her business suit seemed to barely contain her chest, and the suit pants were tight on the wide circle of her ass. Her face was just a bit rounder than he liked, but her long, thin waist formed a perfect hourglass figure that occupied his dreams.

"So what level are you at?" she was asking Tyler, standing at his desk.

"Only 17," Tyler replied, shrugging. "I only really get to play during my lunch break. My wife isn't a fan."

"That's too bad," she said, smiling with that flirty twinkle she seemed to have. "My boyfriend loves it. He drives really slow down Main Street, and I've got both phones in my hand, spinning the Poke Stops like mad."

That probably wasn't the only thing her boyfriend loved, Alan thought. He wondered what it felt like to hold those big tits of hers, feel the fullness almost too big to fit in his hands...

Raina suddenly turned and spotted him. She looked at him a moment speculatively, and then smiled. "Hi Alan! You gotten in on this Pokemon game yet?"

"Not quite yet," Alan said, just managing to not shift guiltily. "My phone is kind of old. I'll try it when I upgrade next month."

"You should do it!" she said. She looked up at him through her eyelashes. "It's great exercise, too!"

"Yeah, that's what I've been hearing," he said. Was it his imagination, or did she stare after him just a bit?

When he got to his desk, Laurel wasn't there. He looked at her seat a moment, sighed, and got to work. He put on a pair of headphones, logged in, pulled up his programs and files, and started cranking away at spreadsheets. He liked listening to chiptunes while he worked. It helped make him think doing error corrections was just like an old Nintendo game. Bounce that incorrect value, update that total, copy that address...

Suddenly between songs, he heard that distinct clacking noise. It made him pause, right in the middle of typing an email. Taking a breath, he turned.

Laurel's high heels clicked over the thin industrial carpet. Her skirt was thigh length and tight, and this time her blouse was royal blue, satin, and hugged smoothly to every curve. She didn't walk to her desk so much as strut, head high and chest out, smiling just slightly under her half-lidded eyes.

Alan hastily closed his mouth that had been hanging open. When Laurel spotted him, she smiled warmly and leaned toward him. "Hi Alan!" she said, winking at him. "How's it going?"

"N-not bad," Alan managed as she sat. "Catching up on things. You?"

She sighed. "Well, if this incompletion report were less of a... of a..."

[Bitch,] Alan thought.

"...a *bitch*, I'd be a lot happier." She paused. "Oh, sorry, that just kind of popped out. But seriously, order processors."

"I know what you mean," he said. He took a low, quick breath. His thoughts were moving very fast. Nice, conservative, *taken* Laurel was dressed like a high class slut.

Alan chest pounded. Before he could think better of it, he turned his chair toward her. He turned boldly, looking at her hot figure, his dick tenting his pants. [Look at his crotch,] he thought. [Look at it hard, then back at his eyes. Feel your pussy get warm, wet at knowing he saw you looking. Knowing you're hot, and he wants you.]

"Yeah," he said conversationally, "They can be rough. It'd be nice to get a break from them, relieve some stress."

Laurel paused. Her eyes seemed to look off into the middle distance, and she twined a lock of hair with a finger. She turned to Alan, considered him a moment. He could hardly breathe. He felt sweat coming down his back. Then her gaze dropped. She stared right at the stiffy in his pants. Her cheeks colored just a little, taking it in for a solid three seconds. And then she met his eyes.

She smiled. "Yeah, that would be nice, wouldn't it?" She watched him all the way around as she slowly turned back to her desk.

Alan's blood pressure felt light thunder in his ears. He turned back to his monitors, trying to breath evenly, just staring blankly at the screens.

***

There was a small mall not far from Alan's office. He took a little netbook he used sometimes when he wanted to get some thoughts out, bought some Panda, and sat in the middle of the food court. He set his food and netbook on one of the glossy white tables, settled into a black metal chair.

He ate his kung pow shrimp quickly, downing it, and then pulled open the netbook. He opened two things: a notepad, and a web browser. His fingers hovered over the keys for a long moment, staring at it blankly.

[It's too much to be coincidence,] he finally typed. [Laurel has always been nice to me, but definitely kept her distance. She has that hot boyfriend she has picture of all over her desk. I don't even compare. But how she looked at me... how she stared right at my cock...]

He took a deep breath.

[And she is very proper, too. She wouldn't wear revealing clothing, or say anything that might get her in trouble with HR. So I have to wonder... am I having some sort of... effect on her? And if so, does it only work on her?]

At that, he sat back and looked around. The food court was bustling with people: men in collar shirts and slacks out for lunch, teenage girls shopping, couples eating together, college age kids who worked the mall stores taking their lunch. Alan picked out a man relatively near him, slightly ahead and to the right. The man had a big gut and a ballcap on. He stared intently at him.

[Your nose itches,] he thought. [Right on the tip. You can feel it tingling, like a feather dancing on it, poking it.]

But no matter how long he stared at the man, no matter what he thought at him, his nose did not so much as twitch. Alan felt a brief flash of excitement when he lifted a hand, but it was just to adjust his cap. Letting out a low breath, Alan turned away. That obviously did nothing. He let his eyes drift around, searching the crowd.

He spotted a girl waiting line not too far from him, beyond the man who refused to scratch his nose. Her back was turned to him, but she had smooth brown hair, a polo top from one of the other food stalls, and tight jeans that hugged a very nice, bubble bottomed ass. The perfect spanking ass.

Before he could stop himself, he imagined what it would be like to run his fingers up it, feeling its nice firm shape. The girl seemed to stiffen. She turned to look over her shoulder, and then whirled around. She was pretty, with a button nose and a deep blush over her light sprinkle of freckles. Her eyes panned the crowd. Suddenly they settled on Alan. He normally would have looked away instantly, pretending to be staring into the distance, but he met her eyes. They narrowed at him.

Alan swallowed. [That man is pretty hot,] he thought at her, hands shaking. [I think he was staring at my ass. I kind of like it.]

The girl's hard look suddenly softened. She tilted her head at him, considering. Then she gave him a slow, sly smile, and quite deliberately turned her back on him. Alan didn't think he was imagining that she was sticking out her ass just a little more, swaying a little harder when she walked forward in line.

Alan tapped his finger on the table, enjoying the view until she was buried in the line. [Perhaps it only works on women...?] he typed. He turned to look around, spotting an older woman, fifties, a little portly, walking with what might be her little granddaughter. As she walked by, he thought, [Man, that pizza smells good,] at her. [I could really go for some right now.]

But unheeding of the food court, the woman walked on, smiling patiently as the little girl skipped and wove in front of her.

Alan turned back to his netbook. [It could be, he wrote, that it only works on women I am attracted to...]

***

It was an hour later. He was taking a long lunch, longer than he should have, but he didn't care. He sat staring at his screen. It was hovering over a small, bulleted list.

[Guesses at the rules (testing incomplete):

*Only seems to work on girls I'm attracted to *Sometimes just doesn't take (that girl who wouldn't step on the next in line's foot, violence aversion?) *Imagining things seems to do something, not clear. Image has to be strong. *Works better if framed like suggestions, or from their perspective Effects not always lasting (suggestion had girl pick rice instead of chow mein, asked her girlfriend why she did that, she hated rice, threw it out even with more suggestion, aversion too strong again?, leading to--) *If aversion is strong enough, doesn't take. But still might influence? *May be more susceptible the hotter they are (my feelings/perception?)]

He mulled that over. He picture Laurel, that hot outfit, staring at his crotch...

He typed one more line:

[For once in your life, do something bold!]

***

When he got back to his desk, Laurel turned to him, taking off her headphones, and smiled warmly. "Hi Alan! How was lunch?"

He smiled back. It somehow seemed easy, now. "It was actually very productive. Got a few things sorted out."

She frowned, impressed. "At lunch? Wow, that's not usually what I use mine for. I'm more of a relaxer."

[Alan is so hot right now,] Alan thought at her. [I wonder how big his cock is...]

Laurel leaned forward, giving him a better view of her cleavage, her gaze wondering just a little down toward his pants, but not quite breaking eye contact.

"Mine usually are the same, but I just had to get something extra done today," he said aloud. "It should make things a lot better from now on."

"Well, that's good I guess," she said. [Oh, I am so horny right now,] he thought at her. [I've wanted him for weeks. And I want him *now*.]

She didn't even try to meet his eyes any more. Her gaze was firmly planted on his groin, focused on it like a laser.

[I want that hot man meat inside me.] Her face flushed just slightly. Her lips parted, chest heaving just a little.

[There is no way that he'd refuse me,] Alan sent the thought. [Look how hot is for me. If I make a move now, he'd jump out of his pants. We could use the Mother's lounge, no one has in years...]

Suddenly, she stood. She smiled, moving smoothly, stalking toward him. She leaned over him deeply. He could just see the very edge of one of her areola from the angle.

"Say," she said softly, "I was wondering if you could help me with something for a second?"

"Sure, anything," he said innocently.

"Could you come with me for a bit? Just for a bit of privacy."

He nodded, and she led the way. Her ass swayed as he followed, his eyes glued to it. She glanced back at him, smiling, giving him a feline smirk. They made their way into the hallway, and across the length of the building into the corner, to the small Mother's lounge on the far side. It was only about twenty square feet, with a couch, a couple recliners, and a table. But the door was well insulated, and the carpet was thick.

Laurel opened the door for him, letting him in. Then she closed it firmly, locked it, and without another word, turned and took his head in her hands and plunged into a deep kiss.

Her tongue wrestled at his, lips moving urgently, hips grinding on him. Suddenly she broke off, looking at him hard in the eyes, and firmly grabbed his cock. Then she said what he thought at her, word for word.

"We are going to fuck," she said, slowly and clearly. "Right here, right now."

But he didn't expect her next line. "You better damn well have a condom."

He blinked, but nodded quickly, pulling out his wallet. He'd purchased one from the mall bathroom.

She snatched it out of his hand, stuffing it inside her bra, pressed against her right tit. "Good. Now..."

She drew a deep breath, but then paused. Her expression seemed to waver. Alan felt a spike of panic. Was she having second thoughts? Maybe she wasn't so sure about having sex at work. They could easily get fired if they were caught. It might be safer to back off now.

But Alan had been doing the safer thing for a long time. Quickly, he sent the thought, [Now lets just see how good of pussy licker you are.]

Laurel instantly seemed to regain her footing. He cheeks colored, and she leaned into him. "Now lets just see how good of a pussy licker you are."

She stood up a little straighter, and slowly, teasingly pulled up the hem of her skirt. Her panties were black, with a big damp spot. She pulled them down, smiling like a wolf while he watched her, until they were just around her ankles. She looked at him, and down at herself pointedly.