Joan, from Stores

So, where to begin? I suppose it started that day in the office when Jim stole my stapler. He claims he was merely borrowing it but he didn't ask permission to take it and it doesn’t take over half a day to staple a couple of sheets of paper together does it! Okay, I suppose, technically speaking, the stapler was Company property and as such was available for all staff to use; but it had lived on my workstation for years and I'd become rather attached to it. Still, Jim's importunious behaviour made one thing apparent, there clearly weren't enough staplers in the procurement office to go around. Therefore, this might be my opportunity for me to grab a new and improved model for myself.

With this in mind, I telephoned Stores. A female voice answered. It said "hello, I'm sorry but there's no one here."

What can you say in response to a statement like that? The best I could come up with was "oh, aren't you there then?"

"Yes but I'm new here so I don’t count."

Don't count? Something in her slowness of speech suggested that she might have difficulty with reading and writing too. Precisely the sort of person I should be dealing with if I wanted to bypass completing that tedious requisition form the Company insisted we submitted in order to obtain even the smallest item from Stores. I therefore cut straight to the chase with "do you know where the stationery stuff is stored?"

"Oh yes. That's where I am now. Everyone else has been summoned to the Auditor's office. I think some stock has been found to be missing."

I bet there has, I thought to myself. All it takes for that to happen is for someone to skip doing the paperwork when getting anything from Stores, just as I was doing at that precise moment. So, they'd all gone and left a know nothing newbie in charge had they? Perfect! "Do you by any chance happen to have any staplers in stock?"

"Oo, let's see, what do they look like?"

"Little boxes with the word STAPLER printed on it." This should prove whether this bimbo could read or not.

There was a long silence before she came back with "yes, lots."

"Excelent! Do you think you could pop one up to me in Procurement? First desk on the left as you come in?"

"Sorry, no can do. I'm not supposed to leave Stores un-staffed AND unlocked and I don’t have the keys. You'll have to come down here and get it."

Well, I was due a break anyway so that's what I did and there encountered Joan; a rather geeky looking womanly shaped woman in her late twenties with the personality of an eager to please teenager. Her shortish and brightly coloured floral frock set against a background consisting mainly of brown cardboard simply screamed to be noticed. Indeed, I could barely tear my eyes from it, which I suppose may have given her the impression that it was her body that was fascinating me. If so, this only seemed to make her all the more eager to please.

"My name's Joan by the way. I haven't been given my name tag yet but that's what it will say. Joan, although my family call me Joanie. I prefer Joanie. You can call me Joanie if you like."

"Okay, Joanie it is. Now, about this stapler....."

I was her first ever customer in that department and it never occurred to her that she shouldn’t simply be giving stock away to strangers without getting them to sign something. It struck me as I took the boxed stapler from Joanie that others in the Company would soon be taking the same advantage of her naivety as I was. She'd quickly become another piece of Company equipment that everyone could use and , in which case she wouldn't last here for five minutes. This rather pricked my conscience. So much so in fact that I felt obliged to fill in a tedious requisition form on the spot and explain to her how everyone else would have to do the same with her if she too wasn’t to be summoned to the Auditor's office.

"Thank you....er...." she glanced down at the form ".....Simon. You've saved my life. I can’t imagine the trouble I'd have been in if you hadn't sorted me out. Thank you soooo much. I owe you big time. Anything you want from here, anything at all, just you make sure you get hold of me and I'll make sure you'll get it." I could tell from her voice and facial expression that she meant every word. Again, I found myself staring at Joanie's lurid dress as I heard the words "anything you want......get hold of me ....... you'll get it......I owe you." Could it be possible she was flirting with me? Was I being the naif one here? For the first time, I allowed myself to wonder about the body that dress was concealing.....and found myself rather enjoying my erotic speculations. So much so that I felt to leave. I needed something to say in order to keep our verbal intercourse flowing and the best I could come up with was "l've been admiring your dress. It's......lovely. It suits you, it really brings out your........femininity." Wow! Had I really just said that? Was I about to be slapped down for such blatant patronising sexism? Apparently not.

"Why, thank you kind sir, she said. It's my favourite. I think it compensates for me not having a particularly colourful personality. The material's also quite soft and smooth against my skin. Would you like to feel it?"

Before I fully realised what I was saying, I blurted out "feel which, the material or your skin?"

A slight blush came to her face as she lowered her eyes and in a hushed but inviting voice replied "both, if it pleases you, Simon. We're all alone here and......" She ran out of words so I came up with a few of my own as the tingling excitement of sexual curiosity manifested itself in every fibre of my body.

"Would it please you to have me touch you, Joanie?"

"Yes" whispered with a shy smile.

"By touch, I mean cop a decent feel."

"I wouldn't object even if it was blatantly indecent, Simon."

Good God! She really, genuinely, wanted me to grope her. Me, a respectable middle-aged married man. The very unthinkable thought! On the other hand, as she'd so shrewdly observed we were all alone...... Her eyes widened behind the lenses of her glasses in excited expectation as this respectable, middle aged, married man stepped forward, placed both hands with fingers spread over the thin floral printed material covering her pleasingly rounded breasts, and squeezed.