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..."
