Tom Hernandez, middle-aged office worker

Tom was pulling into a parking space at work when he misjudged the distance and gently tapped a concrete pylon.

"Fuck!" He exclaimed and something fell in his lap.

He picked up the silver ring with the tiny bright sapphire. Where could it have come from? It was a man's ring. The only other person who had driven his car was his wife, and Janice had left him months ago!

Had she been cheating on him? Had her boyfriend lost his ring in Tom's car while they were making out? He shook his head. These crazy fantasies could only get him in trouble.

He went into the office, barely aware he had slipped the ring onto his left pinky.

Tom worked at the power company as a rate analyst. Everyday he'd be flooded with tons of data about every possible variable that could effect the cost of producing electricity and he'd crunch thos3 numbers to figure out how much they needed to charge the customers.

It wasn't a bad job and Tom was good at it. It would be a lot better if he had his own office, but instead he was sruck in a cubicle with a dozen other employees. Still, there was a silver lining. His cubicle opened up on the path that Marci Mason, the department manager's PA, had to walk get to the office supplies and break room.

Marci was a 30-something black woman with short natural hair and a mind-blowing ass. She wore tight pencil skirts and heels in office, business appropriate but she had to know what she was doing to every straight man in the office, didn't she?

Knowing or not, Tom certainly appreciated discretely watching Marci's bum as she came backfrom the copy machine with a stack of handouts the boss had asked hervto make for an upcoming meeting. And he couldn't believe his luck when she dropped the folder just outside his cubicle, swore, then bent over to pick it up.

The tight skirt strained at the prodigious badonkadonk and the crotch of Tom's trousers had its seams tested in turn. He'd gone from discreetly glancing to overtly ogling. He barely managed to look away when she righted herself.

She had to have done that on purpose, hadn’t she? Tom felt himself slipping into another irrational fantasy, one he'd linger on much longer than the one about his wife cheating on him in his car.

"I just wish she'd do that again," he muttered as Marci walked away.

And then Marci turned around, walked back, and dropped her folder.

"Damn! Not again!" She exclaimed, and once again bent over, displaying her perfect posterior as she picked it up.

What the hell?

Tom ripped his eyes from her ass and stared at the mysterious ring on his finger. The sapphire glinted a wicked blue.