Keep working

You sigh, realizing you can't afford to get involved with Ted. Much as you like to picture that big hunk sliding your skirt up and bending you over the sink or dropping to his knees and tongue-fucking your tender twat, you know meeting him in the bathroom would be real trouble. Cheating on your husband barely even rates. It's the idea of being caught.

That though dispelled, you make good progress on the work. You grab a snack and a drink from the break room and by about one you feel like you are in a good position to finish before the end of the day. However, there is a problem: you're having increasing trouble keeping your mind on the job.

Maybe it was your Ted fantasies or maybe it's just your usual sexual starva-tion. Either way, your mind is in a dirty, dirty place and you can't go on much longer without somehow taking care of the problem.

"Hmmmm," you say aloud, tapping a pen against your lower lip. You do have a mini-vibrator in your purse. It's no bigger than your thumb, but it's surprisingly powerful and when you were desperate to cum you have used it be-fore. Even at work. There is a "quiet room" in the office that pregnant women like Carla and Gemma use to pump breast milk. You're in no such need, but the room has a lock and a comfortable seat and you're sure to be left alone.

A quick ten minutes and you can get yourself off. You check the batteries on the tiny vibrator in your purse. Just as it begins to thrum the door to your office opens and in walks Mr. Perry. You quickly shut off the buzzing sex toy and sit up straight.

The boss does not resemble his portrait in the lobby. Maybe twenty years ago, but now he's all gray and balding up top and he has gained about seventy pounds with a big pot belly. He sidles up to your desk and leans over, looking down the neck of your sweater as he offers an apology.

"I'm sorry," says Mr. Perry. "I hope I'm not interrupting."

"Not at all," you say. "Hey, I am making great progress. I think I am going to meet your deadline."

"That's good to hear. Those figures are crucial to our bottom line." He leans away from you and pulls the blinds closed on your inner-office window.

"That's not why I'm here."

Uh-oh. Perry must have something pretty serious to talk about if he's closing you off from the rest of the office.

"I wanted to talk to you about Haley."

Haley, the recent hire in accounting. She's the most junior accountant, a mousey girl, fairly shy, with incredibly big tits. Her stupid mistakes are responsible for at least half of the work you've had to do fixing up these spread-sheets. Is he going to fire her for incompetence?

"I think I saw her flirting with Ted earlier, at the coffee machine. Do you know if they're, uh, are they an item?"

Ted, the good-looking ladies man from sales, and Haley. It's certainly possible Ted was hitting on her, but you doubt he's taken things any further.

Then it hits you: Perry has been riding you so hard about the spreadsheets because he's fucking Haley. She screwed them up and now she's using those big tits to try to get you fired...

Well, two can play at that game. As Mr. Perry searches the office for any sign of his apparent girlfriend you consider your options. You could excuse yourself to deal with your, um, issue in the nap room, or you can try to get your boss' mind off of Haley by seducing him yourself.