I'm Dr Paul Adams. I'm in my mid-twenties and quite fit. I'm a scientist, and good at my work. I have a gift of concentration and can focus on the thing I'm working on to the total exclusion of all else.
If you want to talk to me while I'm at work, don't bother knocking on the door. I won't hear you. I'll also ignore little details like a voice speaking to me or a tap on the shoulder. If you really want my attention, your best bet is to move between me and whatever I'm currently studying.
Just be sure that you really need to talk to me because when I turn to you, you become the focus of my concentration, and you'll find I can learn a lot more than you intended to tell me by reading your body language.
Also, I don't suffer fools gladly. Michelle is a fool, always playing her silly little games. She's officially a secretary at work, a glorified name for an idiot who happens to be the general dogsbody. Very nice figure on her, I will say that much, and she dresses to advertise, if you know what I mean.
-- -
Hi. I'm Michelle. I work as a secretary for an R&D firm. Actually, when I say secretary, I'm more of a general assistant for anyone who needs a hand. A lot of my work seems to involve tracking down old records. This place had a heap of old paper files in one of the store rooms. I keep telling my boss he should get someone to scan the whole lot onto the computer. (Preferably not me.)
I get on well with everyone in the place except for Dr Adams. He's one of the top researchers. A weird guy, about twenty-five, going on seventy-five. He's awfully rude, too. He just ignores everyone while he's working, and he's always working.
The old records are stored on the floor he runs and theoretically he's in charge of them. Because he's officially in charge of the records I make it a point to interrupt him whenever I have to access them to let him know that I'm doing so. He absolutely hates that, but I just smile and act dumb.
-- -
Theoretically it was lunch time, but Michelle had arranged to work through her lunch break so that she could leave an hour early. Her boss didn't mind as, with a bit of luck, she could dig up the old files he needed before he returned from lunch.
Michelle headed up to the records floor and gleefully interrupted Dr Adams. She had just known he'd be working through his lunch break, thinking there'd be no interruptions. Sorry to spoil your day, doc, she laughed to herself.
One of these days when work was slack she was really going to have to come up to this stupid storeroom and start sorting it out. It would be so much easier if the files were in a decent order. She wondered if she could get work to spring for some decent filing cabinets instead of all these dusty old boxes stacked all over the place? Highly unlikely. The only one inconvenienced by it all was her.
The worst files to access were in the boxes under the work-bench. Checking the files she had to locate, Michelle sighed. She had a working knowledge now of where certain types of file were likely to be, and suspected that she knew where these files would be. In short order she was pulling out boxes from beneath the work-bench, leaning over the nearest to reach the ones further back.
He was walking past the store room when he spotted her. Michelle was bending over a pile of boxes, scrabbling for something under the bench. Her skirt had ridden up, exposing a skimpy pair of panties to the world. He considered her for a moment, then shrugged. Some temptations you were supposed to fall for. Stepping into the storeroom, he quietly closed the door behind him.
The first Michelle knew of someone else being in the storeroom with her was when her panties were pulled down and a hand closed over her mound, squeezing it.
She squealed, jerked upright and promptly yelped when she banged her head on the underside of the work-bench. Trying to wriggle out from under the work-bench only resulted in her pushing her pussy firmly against the hand that was playing with it. She squealed again, irritation giving way to anger.
It took her a few moments to realise the extent of her predicament. She couldn't crawl further under the work-bench because there were files in the road. She couldn't back out because the man was standing behind her, his hand apparently quite happy to play with her privates and not give her any free room. Neither could she stand up, due to the work-bench, or lie flat due to the files she was sprawled against.
Time to scream for help, she decided. She took a deep breath and promptly lost it again in a yelp of pain as the hand left her pussy long enough to deliver a stinging spank to her bottom. Another attempt at yelling brought another quick spank. Michelle was apparently supposed to just lie there and be molested quietly.
Just wait, she seethed, until he stopped. She was going to have his balls for breakfast and eat them in front of him.
Alternatively rubbing, squeezing, stroking and generally massaging, the obnoxious hand worked on her pussy. A gentle scratching along her lips had her gasping, whereas the intrusion of a couple of fingers between her lips and deep into her slit had her squealing in protest. Not loudly enough to risk another spank, though. The first two had hurt and two were enough, thank you very much.
