Working Overtime [M/F]

I resist hitting the send button and glance at the time on my monitor. It’s 5:10 pm on a dark Wednesday evening in the middle of winter, and while I don’t have anywhere I need to be, I don’t want to be stuck in the office troubleshooting this issue for my client – especially while *she’s* still here.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ve had a job at one of the top new startups in the country for a couple of years now. The office space is the polar opposite of the stuffy cubicled hell-hole where I previously worked. Restily has a lot of just about everything – a huge kitchen stocked with more than enough food (especially those granola bars I love) for its 100 or so employees, private bathrooms and showers for the more physically active employees, and top of the line tech at our workstations and in the well-furnished meeting rooms. I’m on the account management team and I don’t really care about career advancement, so my job hasn’t been challenging for a long time. It isn’t an obnoxious place to work either, so I’m not made to feel like I’m doing something wrong in keeping to myself. Outside of work, I rent out my parents’ basement apartment and I have my small group of friends I’ve known since grade school. My work/life balance is pretty great.

It’s just that, for the last two days, I’ve been in a mood of sorts, so having to be here is making it worse.

The room is slowly emptying around me. I cast a sour glance at Doug on the Support team, who is laughing it up as he walks out the door. He’s not a bad guy, and it’s not really his fault that the problem hasn’t been fixed since it doesn’t technically fall under his job description, but he could have been better with the client; they’re pissed, so I’m stuck with fixing the problem all alone.

A figure stands up at the desk behind my monitor. A quick glance reveals her eyes are closed, arms stretched above her head. I try my hardest not to, but I chance a second look. *Damn*. Her eyes are open, her expression bemused. She’s caught me watching. I quickly look back at my screen.

“Hey,” she says, voice soft and slightly raspy. She tilts her head to the side, brushing her straight black hair away before she pulls out an earbud. “You’re still here? Do you have a late call?”

I can feel my ears burning. Rebecca is the reason I’m feeling so high strung. Allow me to explain. The company has been on a six month-long hiring bender, especially in Marketing and Product. For some reason, there are now a bunch of especially good-looking people working here now.

Rebecca’s been here as long as I have and she’s still the most strikingly beautiful person I’ve ever seen.

Remember how I keep to myself at work? That kind of fell apart a couple of nights ago. I was on Instagram and looked her up. Her account has been private since I tried to creep her the day we met, but she was on my mind after what I could have sworn she had checked me out, so I thought I’d check again. I guess I didn’t realize I had clicked ‘follow’ because a few seconds later, I got a notification that she had accepted and another that she was following me back. I quickly got over my blunder when I started scrolling through her posts.

*Holy*. *Shit*. It was the perfect account – her posts were almost all candid set in a bunch of places around the world. At work, she always looks like she’s about to go to some really exclusive art show, and her style and aura of cool on her account were on full display. But I was not expecting how much sexier she could be, how much more perfectly proportioned her body could look, how soul-melting her biggest smiles could be. Her posts were plentiful and I was there for the harvest. Lying in bed and at about a hundred photos in, I landed on one that actually made me gasp, a pic from a trip to Senegal she took about a year ago with some of her friends. It was night and she was in a pool at her hotel in Dakar, her hair slicked back after having resurfaced from the water. She’s got this faint smile while bathed in the orange light like there’s something she’s hiding, but the picture isn’t hiding her slender shoulders or the top half of her breasts.

I started to imagine how well they’d fit in my hands, sliding my left hand under the sheet while I held the phone with my right. I know, it’s a bit pathetic, but not as pathetic as it was when I fumbled the phone, nearly dropping it on my face. I caught it before it landed, but to my horror, I saw a bright red digital heart beneath the photo – I had somehow pressed ‘like’. I quickly ‘unliked’ it and put my cursed phone down for the night. Since then, I’ve been hiding from her as much as a person can hide from someone sitting across from them. The thing is, every time we make eye contact or she settles at her desk, she has that same hint of a smile from the pool photo on her face.

Clearing my throat, I say, “Nah, this client from out west is super annoyed with Support. They managed to make an integration problem even worse. I think I’ve fixed it, but I’m a bit reluctant to tell them it’s all good.”

Rebecca nods sympathetically. “That’s weird, but I think I might know what to do.” She starts walking around the rows of desks to get to my side. I can’t help but watch her approach as she rounds the corner. Today, she’s in tight black jeans and a white t-shirt with the name of a band I’ve never heard of. I can’t help but notice the way it hugs her breasts and hips. A moment later, she’s standing over my shoulder. “Let’s see.”

I open the admin page of the client’s account and start explaining the problem. When I point out one of the error messages, she leans down to get a better look. Her shoulder is brushing against mine, and some of her hair is on me. She’s so close that I can only take the smallest of glance at her face while she reads the message. She wears just enough makeup to look like she isn’t wearing any except for the mascara contrasting the brightness of her green eyes. I take in her full lips and straight nose, the gentle curve of her chin and her scent. Vanilla.

“Can I use this?” she says, snapping me out of my reverie.

“Yeah, sure,” I say. I have no idea what she’s talking about.

She reaches for the mouse, but then she stops and stands up. “This might take a while. I don’t have a meeting until 6, so why don’t you just go home and I’ll deal with this while I wait? I can email them on your behalf.”

“Oh, OK,” I say. That doesn’t seem very gentlemanly, though, and this hasn’t turned out as weird as I had expected. “Actually, do you think you can show me how to do it?”

I’m looking up at her. Her hands are on her hips and she’s got that smile on her face again. “Alright, I’ll get a chair.” She grabs the empty one next to me since everyone on our team is gone. In fact, there are probably only a couple of people still around. She pulls in close, her knee touching mine. I watch her masterfully click around, half-listening to her explain what she’s doing. She enters a part of the application I’ve never seen before. “It’s funny, we’ve been working together for so long, but we’re only now following each other on social media. I was starting to think you didn’t like me.”

As if that’s possible. “You didn’t follow me, either!” I say instead.

She grins. “I’m only joking. You like your privacy. Still, it was nice to see a different side of you. Some of your pics are hilarious.”

My most recent ones are a recreation of a scene from *The Wind in The Willows*. My heart sinks. “My friends and I like to goof around a lot. Yours are all… cool.” Idiot. *Cool*?

“Thanks.” She’s changing some setting around. I’m not sure if I should be letting her do this, but she seems to know what she’s doing. “You should visit Senegal some day. It’s really ‘cool’.” I look at her and watch the sly smile that’s dancing on her lips. My face burns so fiercely that I think I’m going to melt. My whole body grows hot. I’m sure she can feel it on her knee.

“Yeah,” I say weakly. “Sorry about that.”

“Why are you apologizing? It was a pretty ‘cool’ photo. My friend said she couldn’t miss capturing me in that light.” She faces me. “You didn’t have to ‘unlike’ it if you enjoyed it so much.” The heat has now moved to my groin.

“It was an accident. I didn’t mean to.”

She raises her eyebrows. “So you didn’t like it?”

I’m trapped. “It was a nice photo, but I didn’t mean to press ‘like’.”

She smiles again. “I think we’re done here.”

“What?”

She gets up. “I fixed the problem. I need to prep for my call. See ya.” I look at the time – it’s somehow 5:50 pm. She begins to walk away, her hips swaying coquettishly. As she sits down, she flashes me a smirk before her face disappears from view.

What the hell just happened? She was toying with me. I don’t know what to do for a moment, but as I gather my bearings, an idea comes to me. I grab my phone. After a few taps and some scrolling, I’m back on her pool picture. I press ‘like’. I randomly scroll to another photo and ‘like’ it, too. A few seconds later, I hear a snort.

I get up and start gathering my things. The only other person still at the office waves to me as they leave. Rebecca sees them leave, too. Our eyes meet.

“My call just got canceled,” she says. She stands up and stretches again. This time, I don’t look away. “What are you up to tonight?”

“Uh, not much. Probably just going to watch a movie or something.”

Her hands drop and she leans forward on the desk. “So you’re not going to be creeping me at midnight?”

“I believe it was 11,” I reply. OK, that was pretty smooth. I can feel myself getting hard.

Her eyes twinkle and she blushes. “Hmm. Well, I still have an hour before I leave. If you don’t have anywhere to go other than admire me in secret…” her voice trails off.

I chuckle nervously. Rebecca is usually so collected; I’ve never seen her like this. “Um, I don’t. What do you have in mind?”

She looks over her shoulder at the expanse of the office. “Have you ever walked around here when it’s empty? It’s a ‘cool’ experience seeing it when no one else is here.”

“No, but that sounds interesting. Lead the way.” I adjust my pants when she isn’t watching and I follow her along a wide hallway to the Dev team’s area. They all have toys and other curios covering their desks.

“I actually learned how to fix your issue through Sabrina,” she says as we pass her workstation. “She’s cute, don’t you think?”

“She’s alright,” I answer.

Rebecca starts walking backwards to face me. “She told me that she thought you were cute. Said you had nice shoulders.” She takes in my shoulders and raises her eyebrows before turning around again. I feel a bit of stickiness in my boxers. The way she fits her jeans just makes things worse.

We get to the far end of the floor where Marketing sits. Their area somehow seems better furnished than ours, the desks bright with plants and colorful picture frames.

She stops at the door of the meeting rooms. “Have you ever used their rooms for making calls? They’re so comfortable.” She opens a door and flicks a switch. “It’s almost not fair.” The light slowly envelops the room; I realize there’s a dimmer switch, too, but she stops it a bit less than halfway up. She standing in the doorway so I have no choice but to lean in close to her. The room is pretty nice, but I’m not really paying any attention to it.

“Yeah,” I breathe. I make to move away to keep walking but I notice she’s looking up at me. Her hands are behind her back as she leans against the door frame, and I can’t shake the suspicion that she’s waiting for me to look at her chest. She’s blushing again.

“Let’s hang out for a minute,” she says in a low voice. She pauses a beat, then sways to a giant bean bag chair in the corner and plops down.

For some reason, I look around the Marketing section to make sure nobody’s there before I close the door behind me. I sit on the chair next to her and try to act natural, but I have to squirm around a bit in my attempt. Of course, Rebecca pulls off landing in a bean bag chair gracefully. One arm is draped over the top of it and her legs are crossed.

We chat about work, who our new manager might be, and which brand of granola bar is best. She asks me about my life, and I ask her about hers. For someone so interesting, her background is as uninteresting as mine, but that makes her all the more interesting. Maybe, just maybe, she feels the same way about me. We joke around and along the way, I make her laugh. She throws her whole head back as she cackles. Even her teeth are perfect. The clock in the room shows it’s 8:43 pm, but neither of us has made any indication that we want things to stop.

I finish a story about a date gone wrong when she asks, “And are you seeing anyone now?” She looks relaxed, but has that question ever been asked by someone who’s showing signs they’re into you when they actually aren’t?

My face grows hot again. “Nah, I’m flying solo.” I pretend my hand is a plane. *Ugh*. “How about you?”

Her expression suddenly becomes unreadable. “Why do you want to know?”

I don’t know what to say, so I obviously blurt something out. “Well – I’m just… making conversation?”

“So you’re not interested in me?”

“I wouldn’t say I’m not,” I begin. There’s no use denying it. “I mean, it’s-”

“Then come sit with me,” she commands. I point to the bean bag chair and she nods. The three-foot walk to her seem awfully far. Our eyes are locked as I lower myself. The chair lifts her a bit higher than me, but it’s sloped a bit so she slides down and ends up half on top of me. She braces herself against my chest; one of her legs falls between mine. Our faces are now curtained by her hair. Her chest is heaving.

“Do you want me to-” I start to say, but her mouth plunges and her lips stop me mid-sentence. I’m a little out of practice, so it takes me a second to get used to the rhythm. Rebecca is kissing me so deeply and passionately that I almost feel like she has me confused for someone else.

She lifts her head. “I guess I should have asked first.”

All I can manage is a weak “It’s fine” before she’s at it again. This time, I’m not asleep at the wheel. My left arm is beneath her, so I run my right hand down her shoulder blade and over her bra band to the small of her back. I slide it beneath her shirt to feel her soft skin. I guess she likes that because she lets out a small moan. My fingers stroke her slender lower back as her hands grip the sides of my face. Ms. Cool isn’t so cool after all. I wriggle my left hand free. As I play gently her back with my right hand, the left one crudely grabs at her ass. I guess she likes this too because she adjusts to give me more to squeeze. Even over her jeans, I can feel its fullness. I want more. I want to pull down her pants and feel its bare softness, but she hasn’t indicated that she wants to move things along just yet. After a few moments, it sets in that things might not progress, but this is actually really, really nice, nonetheless.

She lifts her mouth again. “This is nice,” she whispers in my ear. She pecks my lips once before kissing my neck.

“Yeah,” I mumble. “Heavenly.”

She snorts. “God, you’re such a dork.” She begins to shift her weight away from me which I take as a sign to get up, but she’s only just sweeping her leg over to straddle me. “Going somewhere?”

“I thought you were getting up.”

She shakes her head and begins lifting her shirt. And then time slows. Her shirt rises to reveal her flat, beauty marked stomach, the ridges of her ribs, the first glimpses of her bra, her cleavage, her collarbones, her neck, and then her face. She drops her shirt to the floor.

“How do I look in this light?” she asks.

I want to say heavenly again because there’s no other way to describe her. She’s literally haloed by the half-light. The smile has returned, her slender shoulders supporting the straps of her cream-colored bra. This time, her breasts aren’t half-submerged in water; they’re barely covered by the deep plunge of the cups. When I’ve taken them all in with my eyes, I let my hands envelop the cups and give a gentle squeeze. They fit exactly the way I thought they would; which is to say, completely. Rebecca is still smiling, but her eyes start to narrow. I give them a stronger squeeze. Her eyes shut but she’s still smiling. I keep at it, letting my thumbs trace the top rim of the cups down to the cleavage and back. I bring my hands up to the straps and slowly pull them over her shoulders. They drop to her arms. She’s still got her eyes closed, but now she’s biting her lip and is slowly gyrating on top of where my pants have been stiffened for a few minutes now. My fingers fold the cups down, revealing her pink nipples. I bring my hand to the hooks and, yes, I manage to unhook all three in one fluid motion. She lets me pull it off her arms since she’s too busy performing her hypnotic dance. I lick a thumb and start revolving it around her nipple, my other hand squeezing her other breast.

“Mmm,” she groans, and starts to gyrate more deeply now. She leans forward again, her hands finding my shoulders, and she brings her mouth to mine again. My hands fly between her breasts and her ass, electricity flying everywhere I touch. She lifts her head and leans even more forward, bringing her tits to my face. I bring one to my mouth, completely enveloping her areola and nipple with my lips. The tip of my tongue flicks her nipples, bringing about another muffled moan. She’s gyrating faster. I switch to the other breast, repeating the same thing. She grabs the newly freed one and starts playing with her nipple, flicking and squeezing it to the beat of her humping. This is insane. I keep going; her breathing gets ragged. Her hips reach a new speed, matching the flicking of my tongue.

She lets out a short “oh”, then a longer one, and then she starts climaxing. “Keep licking, keep licking!” she begs. I oblige. Her body tenses while she gasps for air. She slows to a stop and then limply brings her face back to mine to kiss me before rolling to the side. We silently lie there for a few moments while she catches her breath and I frantically wonder how amazing this night has become.

“So, that just happened,” she says. She raises herself up on her elbow. I’m not sure if it’s the right move or not, but I fondle one of her breasts, anyway. We gaze into each other’s eyes for a moment and then she turns away to start unbuckling my belt. She unbuttons and unzips my jeans. I lift my hips to pull them and my boxers down. Rebecca leans over and holds my dick upright and rotates her thumb along the pre-cum covered tip. I groan as it swirls, aided by the outpouring of my excitement. She brings her hand to the base and gently grips it before bringing it back to the tip, squeezing out more pre-cum. She watches it dribble out, then, she brings her mouth right up to it as her hand slides down to the base again. Her eyes flash up at mine as her tongue pops out of her mouth. I’m panting. She gently brings the tip of her tongue to the fluid resting at the tip of my penis and beings to swirl it around the head.

“Oh my goodness,” I moan. I don’t care how dumb I sound. This feels sublime. I grab at her breast, her nipple rubbing against my palm. After a few seconds, her tongue plunges down the length of my dick and back up again. She smacks her lips. Then, without warning, she leans my dick to her side and her mouth wraps around the head. I gasp. Her tongue darts around, pleasure flashing all over my body. She inches it deeper, fitting as much as she can inside her mouth. She barely gags as she holds it there for a few seconds before reversing course for a quick breath. Again and again, she fills her mouth, going further each time. I squeeze her tit then let go to grab her ass again.

She lifts her head of my dick and starts jacking me off, her saliva allowing her hand to dance up and down. The room starts to spin. Keeping her rhythm, she brings her mouth back to suck and tug at the same time, her lips, tongue and fingers moving together. I can barely keep my eyes open as the pressure mounts higher and higher. My breathing matches the movement. I’m about to burst. I think my hips are trembling, but I can’t tell what’s going on anymore except that she’s sucking faster now.

Then, release. My entire body feels like it’s exploding and my brain is doing somersaults. She keeps going, almost like she’s determined to get every last drop.

“Shit, shit, shit,” I feel myself growl through gritted teeth. She pulls her head up and stops her mouth at the tip. With one eye trained on me, she gulps. Sitting up, she catches her breath and wipes her mouth. The light glows around her again. She leans over and we kiss again.

That’s when I remember that I had forgotten to send that email.

Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/kgnkaq/working_overtime_mf