The room

Tammy’s head was still thick with last night’s drinking, but the office didn’t care about hangovers. If anything, it punished her for them. Jill was the worst, parading past Tammy’s desk, her blouse hanging open just enough to make her enormous tits bounce. She leaned on Tammy’s desk, cleavage practically falling out, lips curled into a grin sharp enough to slice through her pride.

“You’re looking flushed, love,” Jill purred, tilting her head. “Didn’t take your break, did you?”

Tammy blinked, heat flooding her cheeks. “Break?”

“The half-hour,” Jill said, “Don’t play innocent. Everyone does it." She gave a cheeky wink.

Tammy fumbled. “That’s… that’s just half an hour wasted.”

“Wasted?” Jill threw her head back and cackled, loud enough to turn the whole office. “Darling, it’s the best bloody perk this company’s got. Half an hour every day to get your knickers sorted. That’s two and a half hours a week, ten a month. That’s basically a long dirty weekend, but instead of standing in Tesco with your husband, you’re knuckle-deep and sighing like a saint.”

The women erupted. One clapped her hands like it was the best line she’d ever heard. Tammy wanted the ground to swallow her whole.

Jill bent closer, perfume thick and dizzying. Her voice dropped to a filthy whisper. “Don’t knock it till you’ve had a go. The room’s empty. No one’ll know.”

And that was the hook. Tammy wanted to laugh it off, but the thought burrowed under her skin. All night she’d been dreaming of John, those piercing cold eyes, the way he’d thrown those men off her with sheer brute ****. In her dream, his voice had ordered her to strip, to bend, to take it. She’d woken sticky between her thighs, ashamed and aching.

Now Jill had shoved the door open on temptation.

By lunchtime, Tammy had caved. She found herself standing outside a plain door, heart slamming against her ribs. The plaque looked so ordinary.

Inside, the “break room” was small, hot, humming under a flickering strip light. A plain closet door sat in the corner. On the counter were boxes, sealed and new. Tammy’s eyes locked on the labels and her belly flipped. Toys. Every kind she’d only ever seen half-hidden on websites.

She almost ran. Almost. But something deep down stopped her.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Tammy,” she hissed under her breath. “It’s thirty minutes. Get over yourself.”

She shut the door. The timer buzzed to life. In her nerves, she forgot the lock.

Her hands shook as she peeled off her trousers, panties slipping down her legs. Standing there in only her blouse and heels, she felt indecent, being paid to masturbate. She tore open a box, hands clumsy, pulled the smooth toy free, and stared at it.

The first touch made it vibrate against her palm. Tammy closed her eyes, opened her legs and parted her lips, the vibration drilling straight into her clit. Her back hit the wall as her knees nearly gave way. Graham had never seen this, his sweet gentle proper wife playing with herself.

Her breath came in ragged moans. Her fingers pressed harder, the toy humming against her swollen folds. Her mind betrayed her, she wasn’t picturing Graham at all. She saw John, tall and broad, hand gripping her hips, voice low and commanding. His body pressed against her, his cock grinding into her until she begged.

She bit her lip, stifling a cry. She was close, so close—

The buzzer went.

The shock tore her out of it. “Fuck!” she hissed, fumbling to keep the toy in place.

Then she froze. Footsteps. Heavy ones. Right outside.

Panic gripped her chest. She dropped the toy, yanked her blouse down, and stumbled into the storage closet, slamming the door almost shut. Her pussy wet and still craving attention.

The room door creaked open.

Her breath caught. Through the crack, she saw him.

John.

Of course it was him, broad shoulders filling the doorway, those cold blue eyes scanning the room. His gaze landed on her trousers, her panties, the toy on the counter a look of confusion passed quickly over his face.

Tammy’s stomach flipped. Oh Christ.

He didn’t say a word, he sat on the only seat on the room and just reached for his zipper.

Tammy’s eyes widened. Her whole body burned. She shouldn’t be watching. She should have shut her eyes, stayed hidden. But she couldn’t look away.

It was different. All of it. Graham’s body was familiar, comfortable. John’s was something else entirely, his cock sprang out and it was different, uncut. His hand wrapped around it and he began to pull, the sight made her breath hitch in her throat.

She gasped. Too loud.

John’s head turned. The air went deadly silent. Then his footsteps moved closer.

The closet door swung open.

Tammy squealed.

His eyes locked on her, blazing with something between anger and control. “A peeping tom,” he growled. His voice was low, dangerous. “Is that what you are?”

Shame scalded her skin. Her face was crimson, her heart battering her ribs. This was it, her job ruined, her reputation gone, her life shattered because she couldn’t resist one stupid half hour.

And yet… her body betrayed her again.

Her right hand lifted. Trembling. She should have pulled back, begged forgiveness, bolted past him. But she didn’t.

Her fingers stretched forward, she felt the heat from him and then ran a finger over his hard cock