Focus on Work

There were loads of accounts piling up on my desk, all demanding my signature or approval. I could have pushed most of it to Emily, but a few high-value contracts needed my personal review. The numbers blurred together; even the crisp Helix typeface seemed tired. I rubbed at my temples.

Sleep hadn’t come easily this week. Too many nights of twisting between sheets that felt too soft and air that felt too warm. Every time I started to drift, something in me woke again—an ache that had nothing to do with spreadsheets or deadlines. I told myself it was stress, a side effect of caffeine and ambition. Still, it lingered behind every thought, making my skin feel one degree hotter than the room.

I opened the next file, trying to lose myself in its perfect order. The client’s logo, the color-coded charts, the revenue flow—they were supposed to calm me. The rhythm of work usually did. But today even the paper felt different against my fingertips, smooth and cool and alive.

Focus, I told myself. Numbers don’t care how you feel.

But I couldn't. I was getting through the files and charts and numbers, but my mind kept thinking about earlier in the morning when I had squeezed my breasts getting ready for work. God, that had felt good. I was just so tired that I couldn't think straight.

My nipples were hard again, and they ached for attention. I quickly adjusted the setting on my walls. I didn't even want to see Emily and all the other floor workers. It felt too much like they could see me, even though I knew they couldn’t.

Work. She just had to keep moving.

She **** her gaze back to the report, but every line on the page seemed to pulse. The curves of the revenue graphs, the perfect symmetry of the Helix logo—they all shimmered as if alive. She blinked hard, telling herself it was eye strain.

“Executive Lux,” Emily’s voice stuttered through the speaker, “do you need the quarterly files yet?”

Verra’s throat tightened. For a second she imagined that voice closer, the warmth of it, the way Emily’s lips might form her name. She snapped the thought apart as quickly as it came.

“No,” she said, sharper than intended. “Not yet.”

I couldn't work like this, I just needed to get some type of release then I would get back to it.

My hands slid slowly to my breasts as if they had a mind of their own. I started rubbing the squeezing them. Again, it felt so good. My arousal had been growing for weeks, and the lack of sleep and the constant work had put my mind in a haze.

I was now pushing my chest into my hands as my massive orbs strained for more attention. I stopped massaging them and instead pinched my nipples through my lacy bra and thin top. God it was like fire running though my body. I could feel the pleasure spread throughout my body as I started getting wet, my sheer panties were probably soaked. I panted like a bitch in heat.

I don't know how long I continued. I didn't cum, but at least I felt some release. It was easier to focus now.

By the end of the day, the pile of work was a lot smaller than it had been, but my frustrations had only grown.

There was an executive meeting scheduled tomorrow afternoon. I would need to come in and finish the work If i wanted to put the others in their place.