"Michael. MICHAEL! Are you even listening to me?"
The young man, seemingly lost in thought sitting at his desk, quickly jolted his head upwards, awakened from a daydream.
"I'm sorry, Mrs. Clayton! I'm sorry, the coffee must have worn off," Michael said, in a whimpering, apologetic manner.
Mrs. Ava Clayton was the head of a local CPA firm. She was always an overachiever. A woman who would never, ever take "no" for an answer. She was intelligent, aggressive, and from a client's perspective... a perfect model of customer service and professionalism. And also a very busy woman, with enough deadlines and paperwork that required the assistance of a secretary. That's where Michael came in. At least, most of the time.
"Damn it, Michael. I told you I needed copies of Hamilton's files two hours ago! And here you are, practically sleeping at your desk! Get your shit together. I even left a sticky note to remind you," Ava said.
Yet again, Michael looked up shamefully, with the demeanor of a sad puppy. "I'm so, so sorry Mrs. Clayton. I'll get to it, I swear. Right this minute."
"Good." She replied. "Get to it." Ava turned quickly towards her office, slamming the door behind her. If that didn't get her point across, she didn't know what else would. Meanwhile, Michael was still calming himself after his encounter with his boss.
"Sheesh," he said. "Take a chill pill..." Michael paused for a moment to lower his heart rate, and then quietly resumed his paperwork after calming himself. He couldn't help but to feel belittled by Ava and additionally felt his frustrations in his head build up with his aspirations and dreams feel so far away. "Did I really get a bachelor's in Art History... just to end up working at this dead end place? Working for the most uptight bitch in town..." Michael let out a sigh and dredged on with his work. Michael was a good man, with a thin build that he had appeared to have had for the entirety of his life. He was peaceful, a thinker, and loved the creative side of life. He had a few short relationships in college, and the girls always told him they thought he looked cute, and a jawline that many male models would share. His slicked back, dark hair and pale skin made him seem like a man who had never worked an outside job in his life, which was true. In his business attire, he fit the stereotype of a male secretary a little too well, and this fact only made him sigh at the thought of it. He wasn't a very lustful man, he usually just wanted to be left alone to his personal art projects or the daydreams of creating his own masterpieces at home with a paintbrush, not a keyboard.
Back in her secluded office, Ava sat down in her comfortable, leather office chair. She had never married, she had always made her job her life. Unlike some professional women, there were no "cute" pictures at her desk of a family. Only her fine collection of writing utensils, with the room covering in various awards and plaques. When it came to working, nothing was more important. Except, this created a problem. Often, when there were no clients there, no other people around and no job that she was working on, she would feel the looming loneliness and lack of emotional passion in her life.
She was by no means an unattractive woman. Her professional clothing fit snugly, around every curve of her body. Her perky tits, and piercing eyes that seemingly revealed exactly what she wanted to be done to her. Despite having a desk job, her consistency with her yoga classes on the weekends only required a single glance to recognize her firm, nicely rounded ass. She was the type of woman that was confident, and she could get any kind of man she wanted, that is, if she wanted it. She knew in her heart that her job was her passion, but it is common knowledge that simply working a job is not enough to get one's sexual and emotional needs met. The ones that would keep her awake for a few minutes longer each night. She knew she didn't want a man to hold her back from her achievements, but she wanted a man to give her a good fucking that would last long enough before she has to face her needs once again.
Her office was quiet. She took a glance at her agenda, and the last two hours of the day were blank. Nothing to do. She could feel a sense of desperation wash over her. She needed some relief, some excitement, something to get her off. A certain something, but on her terms.
Ava reached for the pad of sticky notes on her desk. She quickly grabbed a pen and started to write. She wrote, "Michael. Come to my office, please. :) "
She got up and walked out of her office, and glanced over at Michael's desk. He had gone to the breakroom. She gently stuck the sticky note to his computer monitor, right where he would see it. She snuck around the corner, and back into her office and shut the door.
Only a few short minutes later, Michael came back to his desk, only to quickly spot the sticky note. He immediately felt a sense of urgency and thought to himself that he should act quickly as to avoid the prior confrontation that day with Mrs. Clayton. As he glanced at the note, he felt confused. "I thought she needed me to finish up this paperwork," he said. He let out another sigh. "What the hell. Whatever. I don't care at this point. I'll see what she needs." Michael walked towards her office, and as he was about to knock on the door, he looked backward to see that nobody else was around. He turned towards the door, took a deep breath, and knocked three times on her office door.
Ava was slightly startled, with her surprise as to how quickly Michael had gotten the message and acted on it.
With a raised voice, she exclaimed: "Come on in!" Michael, shortly after opening the door and making eye contact with Ava, looked down towards the floor a few steps into her office. "You wanted to see me, Mrs. Clayton?"
