Just a fun short story while I work on other things. Enjoy.
******
"See you tomorrow!" Rachel cheerfully called to her co-workers. She worked with a small team of four, managing a small stationary supplies store. It was a surprisingly lucrative business that involved little client contact beyond email and the odd phone call.
This suited Rachel perfectly. Abysmally shy, she had endured her fair share of confronting customer service moments in retail as a teen. Now in her mid 20's, she couldn't imagine having a more fulfilling job.
Rachel's bashfulness came with an unfortunate setback - she struggled to engage with men. It was hardly unusual for her to attract attention. Though Rachel's long, wavy auburn hair and pretty face turned heads on the street, she was unapproachable. If anyone tried to chat her up, she panicked and retreated quickly enough to convince any potential boyfriend that she was training to become a nun.
This is where everyone was misled. Rachel had an unusually high sex-drive, which she slightly appeased with frequent masturbation. Her fantasies were as wild as her imagination, but none would tell from her demure smile and downcast eyes.
Stepping onto the street and breathing fresh air, Rachel smiled at the darkening sky. It was Wednesday, and she always worked a little later on Wednesdays. It was the one night that safely catered to her sexual fantasies.
The discovery was made by accident, after lingering too long in a closing shopping centre. There was a food court and gym that remained open well into the night, catering mostly for workaholics who needed a quick dinner or struggled to find time to work out in a busy week.
On the first night, she'd ducked into a fire-escape to avoid running into one of her mother's friends who talked too much and was impossible to shake off. Biding her time until it was safe to re-emerge, Rachel wandered the area, which was dusty and unused. It was then that she inadvertently discovered a sexual gold-mine and never looked back.
As was her habit these last few months, Rachel casually strolled through the quiet centre, peering through dim glass windows to see what was on offer at various closed stores. She had a bite to eat in the food court, whilst listening to a podcast about nutrition. Checking her watch, she noted the time and made her way toward the gym.
Just before reaching the gym, she turned the opposite direction, and entered the fire escape. Quietly stepping up two floors, she cautiously peeped out as she opened the door. The area was as she always found it: stale and completely deserted.
Approaching a darkened window, the kind management used to discreetly survey working staff, she let her eyes adjust to the dim light before hitching herself up onto a table. About 15 minutes passed before a particular man sauntered into view. The one she waited for. His brown hair adhered to his forehead with sweat, his cheeks flushed, and he wore a black tank top clearly soaked from his workout. Taking a long gulp of water, he tossed the bottle into his bag, and stripped down.
Rachel's breath caught in her throat. From her angle, she could see
everything.
He was physically delectable - tall, broad-chested and very toned, with enough muscle to show great strength, but not too bulky. Luckily for Rachel, the man always favoured the same corner shower stall. Any other, and her view would be mostly obstructed.
The open-plan changerooms were designed to be more trendy than practical, surrounded by glass with high-gap skylight ceilings. Rachel sadly reflected that inevitably someone would sight the blind-spot and her fun would be over. But for now, no one seemed concerned about the dark, unoccupied offices directly above.
By instinct and routine, Rachel's hand found its way down her skirt. Fingers stroking over her panties, she watched the man wash himself clean. Rachel's cheeks heated with excitement, and she worked harder on herself whilst intently watching him.
"Oh... yes," she breathed, wondering what his name was. She often pondered if he had a girlfriend, with the bitter knowledge that if he approached her, she'd run for the hills.
Rachel jumped as her phone went off, the light dimly illuminating her.
"
Fuck
!" she swore uncharacteristically, blindly fumbling to cancel the call. Why did her mother have to ring at that moment?
With dread she looked up and in her fearfully paranoid mind almost expected a SWAT team to smash through the windows. But she only saw the man serenely washing. Even so, her nerves were on end and all prospects of a good orgasm were ruined.
Rachel grumpily pulled her skirt down and hopped off the table. It wasn't fair, she didn't ask for much. Though she knew spying was wrong, it wasn't like she was taking photos to sell online. It was a secret she'd take to the grave - She would never tell her friends, or anyone. She was almost as ashamed and humiliated by her actions as the man might be if he knew. But he didn't know.
The following Wednesday, Rachel was comfortably watching the man from her hideout while her fingers rapidly moved beneath her panties. She loved how exerted he was after every session. The water streamed down his body, hypnotically tracing every muscle.
After accomplishing an intense climax and pausing to catch her breath, Rachel briefly glanced down to readjust her position so she could slip off the table without falling. Then she looked up to see the man staring up in her direction.
It was only for a surreal heartbeat. Rachel shut her eyes, opened them, and saw him calmly washing.
Shaking, Rachel squeezed her eyes shut again. Maybe he was just stretching his neck. How could he know she was there? If he had really spotted her, he'd be outraged and would probably report it and then the police would check surveillance.
They'd come knocking at her work and she'd be arrested in front of her colleagues and marched out in handcuffs, publicly exposed as a sex pest. The man would be waiting at the station to angrily identify her. Her parents, shocked and ashamed, would visit her in jail.
With a sick feeling in her stomach, Rachel cursed her vivid imagination and frantically adjusted her clothing. Grabbing her bag, she risked a last nervous glance at the man casually rummaging through his belongings, and briskly left the area.
Rachel skipped two Wednesdays, but that was all she could do. Even after the last scare, she wasn't ready to say 'goodbye' to the King of her Spank-bank, especially when she'd obviously imagined he'd seen her.
On this particular night, it seemed he was a no-show. Rachel frowned at her watch, and decided to wait another ten minutes before retreating.
Finally accepting he'd taken a night off, she was ready to walk out the door when he emerged. It was quite late, the area now completely empty. After a moment standing under the warm spray with closed eyes, he reached down his body. Rachel's jaw dropped and she almost slipped off the table.
The man placed one hand on the wall, and the other began to work between his legs. If Rachel admired him as well-endowed when he was soft, now she sat straight and leaned forward for a better look at what she considered nothing less than the best cock she'd laid eyes on.
Having never witnessed anything so erotic in her life, Rachel immediately took off her panties and began touching herself, approaching a quicker climax than she'd anticipated. She wondered what it would be like to feel his body close against her, his mouth on hers while she jerked his cock. Or, heaven forbid, take his cock in her mouth. Would it even fit?
The mental image of her lush mouth spread wide on the stranger's cock sent a delicious shiver up her spine and her climax drew closer. The man shuddered, jerking several impressive streams of cum onto the wall in front of him, and Rachel moaned and thrust against her hand at the same time, her fingers saturated.
It was a wonderful climax, a euphoric rise of events that took her hobby to a whole new level of decadence. Feeling giddy, Rachel pulled herself together and went home, wondering if she had an addiction problem.
Two weeks later, Rachel was again viewing her object of desire. Tiring of the panty barrier, she routinely discarded them, which was easily done in the blue velvet dress she wore. She'd caught on that dresses were easier to navigate her hand around when she wanted to touch herself, to a point where her colleagues began to joke that Wednesday was 'dressy day'.
Eagerly stroking herself, Rachel paused, noticing her subject seemed distracted. Roughly pulling his clothes on, he left her view. The shower was still running, and his possessions remained, which indicated he'd be back quickly.
"Where'd you go?" she wondered aloud. Figuring it was a bathroom break, she waited, pouting heavily as the seconds slowly ticked by.
An uneasy feeling grew inside her that something might be wrong, and Rachel experienced that same tingle of dread as the time she imagined he'd sighted her. Maybe he was complaining to management about a facility fault, but once again her orgasm was spoiled by nervousness.
Much too late, Rachel heard a noise that could only be the door opening behind her, and felt a new presence. Raw male energy.
Rachel bolted, not bothering to grab her bag. Before she could reach the other exit, two arms wrapped around her in a strong embrace, forcing Rachel back against a large, hard body. A clean shower scent filled her nostrils, the body pressed against her was slightly damp. A warm mouth tickled her ear.
"Gotcha."
The voice was deeply male, and very sinister. Rachel squealed with fright and writhed in his hold.
"You've been spying on me for weeks," he whispered accusingly, spinning her to face him. She stumbled back and he followed, walking forward until the wall was behind her and there was nowhere to run.
Weeks...
Rachel's blood went cold.
He knew.
The man smugly reached in his pocket and switched on his phone light. "Now, it's my turn to look."
"No!" Rachel begged, more frightened of exposure than violence. But they were illuminated, and she was forced to look her assailant in the face.
It as an entirely different situation, admiring him from a safe distance, with him unaware of her observation. Now, she had his full, confronting attention. He stared down at her with smouldering, intense brown eyes.
It wasn't as though he'd stalked her before pouncing. She'd been humiliatingly caught in the act, and her face burned so red she felt her long lashes might singe.
"Wow. Yum," he grinned widely, and stepped back to pull his shirt off, and drop his pants.
Rachel was unable to stop her eyes moving down his chest to the hard cock between his legs. She was right, he was endowed. Her attention was unpleasantly brought back to reality when he laughed.
"Still ogling me? You really are shameless," he purred, closing the distance between them.
"No, please!" Rachel implored, feeling as though her worst nightmare was manifesting. "I...I was lost...And...I'm-I'm so late for...I have to go-!"
"Bullshit. You're not going anywhere," he cut her off with a wicked grin.
Ben watched the girl shrink back, her eyes wide with terror, but not fear of him. After a quick assessment he realised she was ashamed for being caught doing something naughty. The idea thrilled him far, far more than if he'd walked in on an inviting slut.
"P-Please," Rachel stuttered breathlessly. "Please, it's not what you think. I wasn't... I didn't...!"
"You're a little pervert. Admit it."
Scandalized, Rachel's cheeks flushed an even deeper shade of red and she awkwardly tried to push him away. The heat of his bare, damp skin against her palms made her shiver. Aware he was staring, she risked an upward glance and saw his eyebrows raised, waiting for an answer.
"Oh, no! Really!" she protested, straining against the wall behind her. "It's just...I-I can explain...!"
