She came to slowly, through a fog, a burgeoning hangover the first thing she noticed.
Jenna was no stranger to waking up with a hangover. The pounding head, the dry mouth. She reached out for her phone, and that’s when she felt the cold rough surface of office carpeting. Her eyes shot open. Again, for not the first time in her life, she had no idea where she had woken up. But this time she was not in an unfamiliar bed laying next to someone she didn’t know. She was laying alone on a hard floor. She was underneath a desk.
She felt around her, groping in the cold morning light which was just beginning to shine through the floor to ceiling windows. She peeked out from under the desk. It was her own desk, she realized. The open plan office in which she worked every day was empty and silent around her, save for the noise of some fans and computer equipment. It was Saturday morning.
She looked back under her desk at her heavy winter coat. That must have been what she slept on. Her body was stiff from the hard floor. She was clothed, but as she ran her hands over her body, she suddenly felt a heavy foreign object around her neck. She jumped, startled. She began pulling at the object, momentarily terrified, but soon realized that whatever it was, it was locked securely around her neck and wasn’t going anywhere. Okay…okay, she thought…Don’t panic. She gathered up her coat and set it on her office chair, smoothed her clothes a bit, and darted down the hall towards the bathroom.
As the motion sensor lights of the bathroom flickered on, the first thing she noticed was her face. Her mascara had run all over her cheeks, her hair was a mess. Her lips were bright red and puffy. Slowly, and with much confusion, she moved closer and closer to the mirror, grasping the thing around her neck, trying to discern what it was. When she was just a foot from the mirror, her eyes finally made sense of it. There was a heavy duty, black bicycle lock securely fastened around her neck.
What the fuck, she said out loud, her pulse quickening. But as she stopped and steadied herself on the bathroom counter a flood of partial images came back.
The coworkers all out at the bar…
The man across the room…
Jenna breaking away from the group…
Stephanie smiling knowingly and demanding that she be safe as Jenna left with him…
The walk back to the office, him pushing his bike, leaning in to whisper in her ear…
Her swipe card, them sneaking in…
Him pushing her onto the desk, kissing her, bending her over…
Okay, so she had snuck a stranger into her office and fucked him. Whatever, she thought, as she replayed the night in her mind. She was young, empowered, and loved fucking. No one had the right to judge her. She saw herself slipping down to her knees in front of him. She saw him unzipping his pants and pulling out his cock. Even with the alcohol he had been rock hard, and she remembered giving him a messy, wet blowjob in front of the desk. She was soaking wet by the time he had pulled her up and bent her over it. She remember him pounding her, fucking her from behind so hard that she nearly came. She remembered moaning and begging, “Harder…harder…”
What she didn’t remember was when he had left, when she had passed out, and why the fuck his bicycle lock was currently around her neck.
She pushed open one of the stall doors and went inside. When she pulled up her skirt to pee, she realized that her underwear was gone too. She knew for certain that she had been wearing some. For one thing, she mostly always did. And for another, she remember picking out a cute, sexy pair for work on Friday, knowing that everyone was going out after to celebrate the end of the quarter. But whatever had happened to them, they weren’t there now. She peed and left the bathroom.
She felt sickeningly nervous sneaking around the office like this. There was almost no chance at all of anyone being here, but still she hurried straight back to her desk. She sat down at her chair not knowing what to do. She was suddenly exasperated. Her head was aching and she wanted to cry. She went to push some things aside on her desk so that she might just lay her head down and think, and that’s when she saw the note. It said:
“I have your shoes, your underwear, and the key to lock.
Good luck getting home.”
And it was signed with just his phone number.
What the fuck, she thought. She looked under the desk, frantically feeling around where she had slept. He was right. Her shoes were gone. Was this his idea of a sick fucking joke? Was he a straight up psychopath? She had dodged more than a few bullets before. She wasn’t really sure whether she had dodged one this time or not. She reached in her purse and pulled out her cell phone. With her hands shaking, she had no idea what to type. Should she threaten him? She she simply call the cops? What would she tell them? She opened a new text message and entered his number, finally saying of all things, simply, “Hey”
The animated ellipsis came up on her screen almost immediately.
“You’re up early,” he wrote back.
“Listen this isn’t cool ok. I know we had fun last night, but this isn’t funny. U need to come down here right now and stop it with this”
“Stop it with what?”
“With your little bicycle lock prank. Kudos on the imagination or whatever, but I have shit to do today,” she typed
“Well… Problem is I’m in Brooklyn. Would take me at least an hour to get down there”
“WHAT THE FUCK”
“Yeah, sorry :)”
She stared at the smiley face, infuriated. She blew a sharp angry breath out of her mouth.
“Listen motherfucker, I will call the cops right now. You stole my shit, first of all, so that’s illegal. And this bicycle lock thing has to be illegal too. I don’t even know how, but it is”
“Yeah, you could do that. You could call the cops” he wrote.
“No shit”
“Let’s think about this. You could call the police, have them bring you down to the station with no underwear, find some way to cut the lock off. Then you’d probably end up on the front page of the Post. You’d for sure be let go from your job, and you’d be the laughing stock of all your friends. You’d probably have to leave town for literally a decade before things blow over…”
“Are you fucking blackmailing me??”
“No,” he said. “I’m giving you a choice. You can get us both in big trouble, or you can do what I say and be a good girl, and I will come and take the lock off”
She was flat out flabbergasted. The audacity. But even with her head spinning in anger, she thought about what he was saying. He was right. The size of the predicament she was in was dawning on her. There was no way out of this without either his help, or someone else finding out. Probably a lot of people finding out. She would certainly be fired. And she would undoubtedly be humiliated.
“I have a question,” he wrote.
“Wow great what’s your question”
“Do you remember last night? Do you remember me fucking you from behind on your desk? How wet you were? Do you remember screaming for me to fuck you harder? Do you remember begging me to come in your mouth and then swallowing every drop of it? Do you remember masturbating on the floor under your desk after I was done with you? You weren’t so mad at me then, were you…”
“Fuck you,” she wrote back. But unbidden, as he reiterated the filthy details of their encounter she felt herself begin throbbing a little between her legs. God damn it, she thought.
“Okay then,” he wrote.
“No, wait. Wait.” She crossed her legs a squeezed them together, annoyed and even ashamed at the tingling she felt between them. She debated for the last time and then wrote back. “Fine, what do you want.”
“See, that’s better. That wasn’t so hard, was it?”
“Just whatever, what do you want”
“I want you to go home, text me your address, and wait. I’ll be there this afternoon.”
“How the fuck am I supposed to get home without any shoes??”
“That’s really not my problem. I’ll be there at 2pm. Do what I say and be a good girl and the lock comes off.”
She threw her phone on the desk and screamed. She actually screamed out loud, but then looked around her. The office was still silent, but the thought of someone, anyone, coming in and finding her like this suddenly made the sweat start beading on her forehead. She quickly threw her coat on and pulled the neck and the hood up around the lock. It mostly hid it. She picked her phone back up and called an Uber. When it arrived she ran out of the office, past the elevators and down the stairs. She burst out onto the frigid morning sidewalk, her feet wincing at the cold, and practically dove into the waiting car.
“Wild night?” the driver smiled from the front.
“I can’t talk right now,” Jenna stated.
“Say no more, miss,” the driver said, nodding in a rather curt but understanding way.
He set off for her destination.
***
Well, she couldn’t really leave the house, could she? She spent most of the morning pacing around her apartment, managing to eat a little breakfast. She thought more than once about calling the cops. But what would she say? She thought about calling a friend, seeing if she could find someone with a lock cutter, but Jesus, that would be even more embarrassing. As the morning wore on, she was infuriated, ashamed…and completely horny. Every time she touched the lock she felt a heady rush of angst and pleasure. By noon she had masturbated twice on the couch, and once in her bed. After that she got up and took a shower, with some difficulty given the lock, and wrapped a towel around herself, sat down on the couch and waited. At one pm he texted asking for her address. She gave it to him.
“What is supposed to happen when you get here? Other than you taking this fucking thing off that is”
“You open the door with no clothes on, I have my way with you one more time, and then I take the lock off. That’s the deal, take it or leave it”
She didn’t reply, but with a lump in her throat she stood up, went to the bathroom, took the towel off her body and hung it on the rack. Just before two pm, he texted.
“I’m here, buzz me in”
There she stood by her front, naked other than an absurd bicycle lock, waiting for him to hit the buzzer. When he did, she let him in. She stood quietly as he came up the stairs. He knocked gently and she opened the door.
Seeing him for the first time in the daylight, she begrudgingly acknowledged how handsome he was. She usually knew how to pick them. Suddenly she felt the same jolt of attraction that she had when they first locked eyes across the bar the night before. Saying nothing, he stepped inside and shut the door. He came nearer and placed one finger on the bicycle lock, pulling her into him. She didn’t resist. He kissed her, roughly but with skill. With one hand on the lock as he kissed her, his other hand began groping her body. He grabbed her everywhere, her ass, her nipples, her arms, as he pushed himself closer and closer into her. Eventually, his hand was between her legs. She went weak in his arms when he touched her there.
He pushed her down to her knees, and began undoing his jeans. She knelt eagerly, waiting for him to pull his dick out. When he did it was hard, and it stood there in her face. Slowly, she opened her mouth and slid him into it. His cock was warm and firm, and she worked it herself for awhile, savoring the feeling of it in her mouth, before he took her head in both of his heads and started gently thrusting. Soon he was pushing himself all the way to the back of her throat, again and again, just short of gagging her. She was soaking between her legs. Suddenly, he pulled her back up standing and broke away from her.
With the lock in one hand, he led her the few short steps to the kitchen. He pushed her face first towards the counter and began running his hands all over her body from behind. His hard dick, wet from her mouth, was rubbing between her thighs, almost touching her, as he pulled her closer to him. He continued thrusting their bodies together. He ran his fingers through the hair on the back of her head and firmly grabbed a handful of it. She couldn’t take it anymore.
“Fuck me…” she said.
He didn’t reply, just kept pressing himself into her, rubbing against her.
“Please…put it in,” she moaned. “I need it…please fuck me.”
She gasped when he finally put his cock inside her.
He pushed her further over the counter and began fucking her, thrusting roughly. He didn’t last for even a minute before he pulled out and shot a warm line of come up her back that splattered nearly to her neck. He spasmed again and again, leaving practically a pool of come on the small of her back by the time he was done. As he stepped back, she shot her hand between her legs and began furiously touching herself. In just another moment, she came too. As she did she slid down the counter, utterly weak. She laid on the kitchen floor in a heap.
As he did his jeans back up, he rummaged in the pocket. He pulled out the key. He knelt down on the floor beside her, took the lock gently in his hands and opened it, releasing her.
***
Unlike the previous morning, Jenna woke up on Sunday knowing exactly where she was. She was laying in her own bed, in her apartment, next to her loving boyfriend Brad. He was just getting up, yawning. He stood up naked, and stretched at the side of the bed.
“Honey, these sexcapades are getting a little out of hand, don’t you think?”
Jenna laughed sweetly.
“Oh, you’re telling me? Listen buster, you owe me a serious neck rub after having that stupid lock on my neck all day.”
He pounced back onto the bed, grabbing her, laughing.
“A neck rub, eh? We’ll see… How about we start with some pancakes?”
That would be nice, thank you,” Jenna said, smiling with mock irritation.
He got up and headed off for the kitchen. Jenna watched him go, feeling like possibly the most sexually satisfied woman on earth. After awhile she got up and stretched out too, and joined him in the kitchen for breakfast.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/c2zc7x/office_night_out_goes_bad_2k_words_xpost_from