I see her walk in through the revolving glass doors every morning. Half the time she’s digging through her black leather purse for her ID card. She glides through the room seamlessly without ever looking up until she finds it just before the security desk. Her hair flips behind her as she looks up smiling and a part of me feels like it’s for me. It’s the best part of my morning sweep. I time it exactly too. At 8:50am she walks through that door, blazer open, rich auburn hair flowing down her back, skirt slightly sliding up her thighs. I imagine how soft her skin is and how it would feel to run my hands over every inch of those thighs.
The security guard nods his head and smiles. “Good morning, Amy.”
“Morning Jon, how are you?”
“I’m good, nice day isn’t it?
Amy chuckles for a second. “Yeah, too bad I’ll be trapped behind a desk all day!”
His smile widens. “There’s always tomorrow, right?”
Her chuckle becomes a full laugh as she continues walking to the elevator. She is the last bit of sunshine left in San Francisco. I wish that I was Jon right now. To be the one to make her laugh even if only for a second, have her greet me, or hell even see me. I shake the thought as the doors close behind her and wheel my cart over to the elevators to go to the basement. I’m waiting a good five minutes before one finally shows up. You think I’d be used to the wait time by now. Since I started here last year this has been the busiest time for the elevators. People running into work late, having to ride all the way up to the 42nd floor. Thank God she only works on the 20th. I heard her once say she was afraid of heights. It makes me wonder if she ever looks out those big windows behind her in her office.
The bell dings and I step inside alone and press B. I can barely fit with my cart, the elevators are so cramped. My eyes are always blinded by the fluorescent bulbs reflecting off the doors. When I reach the basement it’s dark as always. I’ve grown accustom to the dark and have no troubles finding everything I need. Even the rats don’t know these walls as well as I do. I walk to the back by the storage closet and turn on the only light. I’m out of garbage bags and I need an excuse to go back up by Amy’s office. I think I must take out her trash about three times a day just to look at her. I lean down to the bottom right shelf and grab a box of bags. When I get up and turn around I see Lou standing behind me.
“What are you doing?” he scowled as if it made him important.
“Garbage.”
“Isn’t that fitting. There’s a busted pipe in the mens room on 12 and people are complaining it smells. I’m sure this is something even your feeble little brain can handle. Take care of it.”
My brain feeble? He’s one to talk. Being head of maintenance sure isn’t a nobel prize winning career, but then again I guess it’s more important than what I do. At the end of the day though he’s the boss and I can’t risk losing this job right now. It’s my only connection to Amy and if I couldn’t see her everyday, if I didn’t have that connection, I’d go insane.
You would think that a building full of “respectable” business types would have well-kept bathrooms. The truth is that the men and women here don’t care about anything outside of what’s in their bank accounts. When I walk in the smell of feces and urine plagues my nostrils. I see the pipe busted below the third urinal gushing water. The soles of my shoes squeak with every step and I can feel the water starting to soak through to my socks. I’m forced to get on all fours to get a proper look. I reached down my tool belt and pulled out my wrench. The pipe is stubborn but sure enough with a few tight twists with my wrench and the water stops. What once was a flowing stream is now just a drip. Good enough.
When I get up I see my clothes are drenched with the filthy water. At least everything I need is downstairs. I squeeze the bit of water out of my shirt and head to the elevator. The doors open and there’s a group of three suits standing there snickering as I get on.
“Hanging out in the sewers?” the tall one scoffs as the others laugh mindlessly. I say nothing.
“You know I think there’s a garbage dump just a few miles away you might feel more at home at.” I stare at the floor as they continue with their petty jokes. The elevator dings and they exit, cackling like hyenas. I think if any of them strayed away from the pack for even a second they’d choke on their amusement.
I head back to the basement and enter the boiler room. I pull the chain for the light and see theres a small leak by the moldy corner again. I’ll get to it later. I go to my cot across the room and strip out of my wet, dirty clothes. It gets so hot down here sometimes my chest drips with sweat. I unclasp my belt and my pants drop to the floor as I rub some of the grime off my body, running my hands everywhere from my blonde locks down to my thighs. I look up to see her face staring at me above the bed. I don’t know why she would ever throw such a nice picture away. All I had to do was cut that pesky ex of hers out and it was perfect again. I walk across the room and grab a fresh shirt and pants from my dresser. The cotton t-shirt sticks to my pecs and I try to squeeze in. Since I started training, everything has been getting smaller. I know how much she likes her men strong. I even heard her say it once.
After I finish changing I go back to my mission and head up to the 20th floor to sneak a peek at Amy. My heart begins pounding as I approach the door to her office. She’s so brilliant. Only 29 and already she is the chief editor at her publishing company. I tap lightly on the door and she looks up from her desktop and smiles.
“Oh hi Brendan!”
“Hey I–I’m just here to switch out the garbage.”
“Okay, there’s not really that much right now.”
“Oh, well I was already on the floor so I figured…”
“Sure, not a problem.” She reaches under her desk for the garbage pail and I catch a glimpse into her shirt. She’s wearing a red bra today that supports her supple breasts perfectly. It must be new. How daring of her. I almost couldn’t contain myself. I could feel my cock beginning to stiffen. She hands me the pail from across the desk and I reach out for it nervously. My fingers touch her hand for a moment and my skin starts pulsating.
“Hey have you been working out or something?” she asks.
“Huh?”
“Your arms, they’re looking more toned lately. Have you been working out at all?”
“Just a little.”
“It’s showing. I was thinking about starting to work out more myself. I want to get skinny in time for summer. Beach weather, you know?”
“Oh, I think you look fine now, I mean, you’ve already got a nice body.”
I laugh awkwardly as she smiles at me. “Well thank you.”
I finish switching out the garbage bags,hand the pail back to her, and start to walk to the door.
“Have a nice day, Amy.”
“You too! I’ll probably see you around later.”
Out back by the dumpster I search through the bag of trash I collected from Amy’s office. It’s mostly ripped up envelopes, candy wrappers, and a couple tissues. Things of that sort, except, ah, an empty perfume bottle. I remove the cap and the scent, her scent, lingers intoxicating me. I read the label and see it’s Chanel No. 5. Classy. I’ll save this for my collection.
At around eight later that night she finally heads out for the night. She is always the last to leave. I sweep around her floor and watch as she shuts off her desktop and grabs her jacket. She walks past me with a smile and says “goodnight!”
Without looking up I nod and say “goodnight.” As she heads to the elevator I watch her hips sway. I bet she’d be really good at thrusting them. Once she’s in the elevator I take out my keys and fiddle for the ones to her office. I made the copy in gold. She deserves nothing less. I look through her desk and see all sorts of files about her current and next projects. Boring. As I’m about to give up I find it. She forgot her planner in her top right drawer. I quickly skim through. Wow, she’s busy. What’s this though? Tomorrow at four she’s having lunch at Saison on Townsend St. Fancy. Usually she just gets delivery and eats at her desk, if she takes a break for lunch at all. I wonder what she’s going to be doing there.
I head out and lock up then head back down to the basement. I turn on the only light in the room and lay on my cot, staring at her picture. I take the cap off the perfume bottle and inhale deeply. My spine shivers and I can feel my body harden. I unclasp my belt, slide off my pants then boxers, and reach down for my cock. With every stroke it grows stiffer and stiffer until I finally reach my full nine inches. No one else can make me grow like that. The pressure builds as my cock begins to pulsate. It’s pointing directly at her picture, only making me more aroused. I need both hands now to be able to cover all of it. I spit on my cock and use the precum as extra lube as my hands slide up and down effortlessly. I can tell I’m about to cum but I’m not ready yet. I want the fantasy of her body under mine, her bare skin rubbing against me, and breasts bouncing with every hard pound I give into that tight pussy to last longer.
She’s begging me for more and I give it to her like I always do and she’s thankful to have me inside her. Her body quivers from the pleasure and I know it is all because of me. She moans my name, over and over until she’s screaming so loud all the neighbors can hear. All she wants is for me to fill her up with my cum and after hours of teasing I finally give her what she’s been asking for.
My eyes roll to the back of my head as I reach that much needed release shoot out of me and all over my hands. I lay there trying to catch my breath as my cum continues to drip down to the base of my cock.
To be continued…
Source: reddit.com/r/sexystories/comments/2gsbh2/under_the_office_mf_str8