[FM] – The IT guy had a big fucking Hard Drive, and i was ready to upgrade.

Hello! I posted my first story here last night about a pandemic encounter I had with my budtender: https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/or63f0/fm_masks_off_strap_on_fucking_the_mysterious/

Today, I want to share another favorite story of mine from 2019, a single experience that sadly hasn’t happened again since I lost my office job last March. It’s something I thought was incredibly unlikely, so I still think about this experience nearly two years later. This is a long one, but stick around for the end.

My favorite part of working in an office was actually having an opportunity to put together business casual looks. Before then, I lived in overalls, painters jeans, and UV protecting base layers while I had a mural painting contract. A friend clued me in about her company’s open graphic designer position at a software company, which promised a lot more than I had been making. Of course, I jumped at the opportunity, applied, and was hired.

On my first day of work, I woke up hours before I had to leave so I could shower and gussy up to make the perfect first impression. I covered my wet body and hair with oil and moisturized every part of myself. I knew I would be dressed too conservative for anyone to notice my skin, but knowing I was soft and fragrant made me fantasize about being fondled and worshipped by a repressed 9-5’er, entering his life without warning and turning everything upside down. You’d think I’d be worried about job requirements, or getting along with my colleagues. But no, I was wondering if I’d find someone new and hot to day dream about.

Time for the wardrobe. Classy, but sexy. I selected a silk tank tucked into a pair of high waisted trousers, topped with a fitted blazer and heeled boots. I made up my face and felt confident when I left the house, feeling as though my outfit was highlighting what I thought the best parts of me were: my hourglass figure and weirdly long legs for my frame. I guess I already had sex on my mind when I entered the building; I wanted to make every employee wonder why they’d never noticed me before, that I must be new because they would obviously remember a girl like me walking the halls.

Upon exiting the elevator, I was greeted by my new supervisor who led me to my shared office. She stopped in the door and greeted the man who was setting up my computer, the IT guy.

“Hey, Matt. This is strawberry-“

He turned around and I first noticed his shirt. He was totally dressed down, wearing a band t-shirt of a relatively niche 90’s group I was a huge fan of. It made sense – he looked at least twenty years older than me, and I was twenty-two at the time. I was also taken aback by an attractive IT guy. He looked shockingly like an older Adam Driver, with the same impressive height and effortless-cool shoulder length hair. I felt embarrassed that he made me tongue-tied and suddenly was very aware of my body and how I looked. The same self consciousness I dealt with my entire life was rearing its ugly head and all I could squeak out was a “hi.”

Nodding a hello back, he got up from his mess of wires on the ground to shake my hand. I tried not to stare too hard, but I tried to locate a wedding ring. I hadn’t even consciously realized I was trying to do this until I smiled when his finger was bare. I was already intrigued. I wanted to talk to him more, but sadly he bid us a goodbye and tended to other employees’ technical concerns.

This was certainly not the last time I saw Matt. My office was located at the end of a hallway, right by the junction of all foot traffic on the floor. Through the glass doors, I had a perfect view of the daily bustle, unintentionally beginning to anticipate people’s routines and weekly meetings.

Matt had to walk through the office all day. He constantly buzzed from office to cubicle, resolving issues and setting up new employees. I noticed a routine of his: staring at me through the windows every time he walked down the hall. At first, I thought it was just the case of situational coincidence. I also reflexively look in peoples’ offices; it’s a weird tick, but I wouldn’t be surprised if others did the same. But the staring continued, and so did his small smirks when our eyes met, and he looked away shyly. I wished he would just come into my office, say hi, shoot the shit with me. It would’ve made my day. But he kept it professional and quiet, just sneaking glances any chance he got.

I decided to up the ante and visit him at his desk. He was located in a hidden-away cubicle surrounded by the other IT guys. It made me laugh at first, but I avoided making the obvious “IT Crowd” joke I’m sure he had heard a million times before. I do find it funny that the IT folks are always shoved away in the corner, and it made me feel like I knew a secret prize. How were the other women in the office not falling over this guy? I wanted to know him more, afraid his beauty only really went skin deep.

He seemed shocked when I said hello and leaned over his desk to give him a view of my cleavage. I didn’t want to mess around. I didn’t want to be shy. I wanted to be young and brave and go after something that wasn’t a sure thing. I wanted to be risky and taboo. An older man? A guy in the office? That’s so much more fun to think about than InDesign templates and buying font licenses.

I asked him a bullshit question about my computer to open up the conversation, and then I asked him about the 90’s band. His eyes lit up and was excited to tell me about his hometown relation to the guitarist, sharing a funny anecdote and mentioning working on one of their music videos. Hold on, say that again? Yes, the IT man was once a popular photographer/videographer for many bands in that scene and held an MFA in photography. My heart fluttered a bit. I wasn’t actually expecting him to be interesting. I wasn’t expecting us to have much in common but a taste for alternative music.

We stole quite a bit of time from our company that afternoon, and I can only imagine how many service tickets he ignored while we chatted. I was only torn away by my phone buzzing with a meeting reminder, which was not very productive at all as I sat and doodled hearts in my notes. I wondered what he looked like naked. I wondered what his skin smelled like. I wondered what type of lover he was and fell into sexual hypotheticals. I felt turned on, but creepy. He was just trying to do his job. Why was I trying to make this happen so badly? What did I think would happen?

More time went on with him staring at me through the glass as if we hadn’t had a conversation yet. Despite this, he was never anything but friendly and open when I visited him at his desk, sometimes coming with gifts like snacks or drawings. I thought I was making it very obvious that I was interested in him, but he was either oblivious or trying to let me down easy. Neither option made me very happy or confident.

I stopped going by his desk because it started making me sad. It reminded me of one-sided infatuations I had in high school when I was pudgy and awkward. I didn’t want to put myself in a situation where I regressed instead of matured. He further confused me by staring at me, even more. I’d see him everywhere I turned in the office. I’d look to the row near me during a staff meeting and see him right there.

At the Christmas party, he stared at me but never approached. Fueled with liquid confidence and tired of waiting for this man, I walked up to his chair and asked him what his deal was.

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘What do you mean?’ Have you not been looking at me for the last three months, including all night tonight?”

He looked embarrassed. Did he really think he was mastering subtlety? I realized he was probably feeling the same way as me, wrestling with the question of my intention. Why was I going up to his desk? Did I want something more from him, or was he being totally inappropriate? Maybe he was just as insecure and inexperienced with this odd dynamic we found ourselves in.

“I’m sorry.”

I asked him if he wanted to go out for a smoke to diffuse a somewhat awkward location for this conversation, surrounded by our coworkers jovially sipping liquor and dancing to old pop hits. He said yes, and we pulled on our coats, ready to embrace the chill December air. I was still not prepared; my hands shook as I tried to light my cigarette, and I couldn’t get it to light.

“Here.”

He leaned down and offered me a flame, protecting it from the wind with his hand and meeting eye contact with me as he lit the end. These types of interactions always made me think of a film noir movie, with the femme fatale gracefully gesturing for the leading man to give her a light, when we see the spark of chemistry live within the flint and surround the air. This experience was certainly less cinematic, but it was the first time I felt like he was letting me see his “game”. That spark, that movie romance.

We chatted as we smoked, feeling more natural than it ever had within the office. Eventually, I forgot I was cold. Listening to his voice sent a warm tingle over my entire body, and I was caught in his words. I don’t even remember what we talked about. I was focused on the way he spoke with his hands and licked his lips when he was struggling for the right word. I fixated on his long fingers and wondered if he played piano. I wondered what other things he did with his hands. I fantasized about him as I was speaking to him.

“You look really cold – do you want to go back inside?” He took my hands in his, and I was jealous of how warm he still was.

“Yeah.” I wanted to go back inside, but I didn’t feel ready to have an audience again, to lose the actually verbal Matt. I wanted to kiss him, so I did.

He stopped me. “Are you sure?”

Yes, of course I’m fucking sure. I nodded and wrapped my arms around him, a new feeling, one I wanted to savor for as long as I could. He leaned down and kissed me, so gentle and soft. It wasn’t what I expected; I never expected this at all. He lowered his hand down my back and lightly grabbed my ass, unsure and shy in character with everything leading up to this. I reached behind and placed my hand on top of his, showing him exactly how hard I wanted him to squeeze. He pulled me closer by my ass and I felt his hard cock through his pants rubbing against the velvet fabric of my dress. I chose to ignore it, make him obsess later how this could’ve gone, what else could’ve happened. So, I broke away from the kiss.

“It’s getting late – I have to get home and eat something so I’m not dead tomorrow.”

He nodded and motioned to look at the time on his phone.

“Same here. I’ll see you tomorrow, -strawberry.”

We parted opposite ways, and I desperately avoided looking over my shoulder. Play it cool. He seems easily spooked, for some reason. Keep your head up and pretend it didn’t matter to you at all.

The next day I found myself extremely frustrated. I sat in my office, dressed in a tight black dress with a low cut, tits sky high with help from my favorite bra. I was being iced out, or so it felt. He walked by a few times but held his head low. Maybe it was bad timing that I never caught his eye. Maybe he was being a little bitch. I powered through my work, dealt with asshole clients, and generally watched the clock just waiting to go home and complain to my roommate, finally admitting to her that she was right, that he was a stupid asshole that should be more mature than this. Fair enough. She’s a smart girl, and I apparently wasn’t.

I found myself pulling involuntary overtime, needing a client’s approval before “end of day”, which seemed to drag on long past five. Around six-thirty, my desk phone rang with an internal line: Matt. I found that interesting, since one of his most loyal routines was leaving the office right at five to make his daily exercise classes. I answered, questioning why he was here so late. He didn’t answer me directly.

“Come by the IT supply closet.”

I loyally followed his orders and headed down the hallway, my heart beginning to pound. A little bit of adrenaline, a bit of anxiety, all full of anticipation. What was I getting myself into? Were there cameras in the hallway? Does anybody watch that footage? Would they be curious why the IT man and the graphic designer are having a chat in the closet?

I approached the closed door and knocked quietly. The handle turned, and he gestured for me to follow him in. He locked the door behind us and pushed a file cabinet up against the door. Oh, wow.

“Can we try again?”

He walked up to me and took me by my hips, but I hesitated for a second. I wasn’t sure if I wanted to make it so easy for him. I felt embarrassingly wrapped around his finger up to this point, and I wanted to regain some control. My expression worried him.

“No?” He took a step back, and his posture sunk.

I stared him down, eyeing him from head to feet. With a smirk, I took a seat on a box and slid my panties down, swinging them around on my finger. He looked bemused, not nearly as surprised as I wished he had been. So, I balled the panties up and threw them at his face. They caught on his ear, and I burst out laughing, with him following soon after.

My laughter soon turned into amazement when he freed my underwear from his ear and held it up to his nose, inhaling deeply. He smirked at my reaction, my mouth ajar at the surprising twist of events. He walked towards me with the underwear still in his hand, holding them up to my face as he stood.

“Lick them.”

I scoffed. I guess he was one of those quiet freaks, the ones you never realize are so dirty until you get in a room alone with them.

“You first.”

He obliged, licking up the crotch, tasting all of the frustrated wetness that had accumulated from hours of waiting for him. After he was satisfied with his job, he put them in the back pocket of his pants and dropped to his knees in front of me. He placed his hand up my dress, rubbing my upper thigh, but cruelly avoiding my dripping cunt. He continued massaging up and down my legs, removed my boots, and admired my socked feet. He took one and began sucking on my toes over the socks, my body surprising me with how much I twitched and fidgeted upon the cardboard. I thought I was ticklish, but not now. It seemed that wires crossed, and my feet became a new g-spot. I felt like I would cum just from that light touch. I watched him notice my breaths growing faster and felt so vulnerable. We were surrounded by monitors and keyboards, server equipment, a gentle hum. I couldn’t believe this. I was going to cum. I was going to cum from him touching my feet!

My hand flew over my mouth to trap a moan, and he laughed at me while running his fingers through my hair. He pulled me closer to him and kissed me with an open mouth, letting me gasp into him as my toes curled. After I caught my breath, he did not waste a second before lowering himself again and hiding his head underneath my dress. I felt his warmth all around me, his exhales tickling the most sensitive parts of me. He started licking everywhere except my clit, leading me to drop my ego and beg for him to make me cum again. Finally, he let me experience heaven, flicking his tongue expertly and dragging me into his hypnotic rhythm. I lost my mind in less than thirty seconds, locking his head between my thighs as I held him close to me to lick until I couldn’t see straight.

He stood up and wiped his mouth with his sleeve, slyly smiling at me. I became cautiously excited.

“What?”

“Can I unzip your dress?”

I stood and turned, presenting my back and holding my breath as he grabbed the zipper. He pulled it down slowly, letting his fingers brush the newly exposed skin. With each inch, he moved his hips closer to me. He was making sure I knew how hard he was, and for me to know just how big he was. His pants were much looser today; what I felt was more than I had the day prior.

The dress fell off my shoulders, and somehow I felt more than naked, just left in my thigh highs and push up bra. My lower half was mostly exposed and dripping wet. He stood in front of me completely clothed. I didn’t think that was fair, so I pulled off his shirt. I don’t know why I was surprised, but I noticed his chest was covered in some decades-old stick and poke tattoos, perhaps some DIY tattoo machine designs sprinkled in. He was also covered in thick body hair, something I was very excited to see. So, I began covering his torso with small bites and kisses, licking his neck and ears as he struggled and failed to take control over his body and sounds he made.

“Just relax.”

I grabbed him by his hair with one hand and started undoing his belt with the other. I went slowly, making sure to tease the skin above his pubic hair with my fingers as I started unbuttoning, one by one. With one motion, I pulled the pants and boxers down, allowing his huge fucking cock to spring out against my wrist. Unbelievable. How the fuck does he have a pornstar dick? I’m sure I’ve seen this dick made of silicone in a sex shop. I didn’t want to gawk, but I also wasn’t sure where to go next. He was at least ten inches, maybe more, thicker than three or four of my fingers. I undid my bra to buy time and watched his eyes widen as my F cup tits bounced down, feeling satisfied by his and his cock’s reaction. Two freaks of nature in a closet – it was like our minds jumped to the same conclusion together on what our next step was.

He placed his cock in front of my mouth and asked me to drool on it. I sucked the tip and took him as far down as my jaw and gag reflex would allow, letting my saliva drip and pool on the floor below us. I stared up at him as I choked quietly, sucking harder as he stroked my head and gently encouraged me to continue. Once his cock was sufficiently covered, he removed it from my mouth and rubbed it against my nipple. I smiled and held my breasts together around his cock, teasing him with the warmth and softness in my cleavage. He thrusted harder, leaning over and grabbing my shoulders so he could go faster, bringing himself right to the edge before pulling away and shoving his face into my tits instead.

While sucking on my nipples, he rubbed my clit in quick circles. I knew his fingers would be talented – he knew exactly how to influence a shattering orgasm. I shoved my face into his hair to avoid making a sound. He didn’t let up. I came over and over, becoming so wet he could barely keep his hand on me without it slipping off. I realized this was exactly what I needed to enjoy taking him deep inside of me, deeper than anyone in my past. The only lube we had was my own excitement, and I was more than eager for him. Rising slowly, he kissed my ear and licked my neck.

“May I fuck you?”

I said yes, of course. He chuckled and grabbed a box of condoms from his bag on the floor. Oh. So, this was a plan the whole day.

As he slid the rubber on, he stroked himself and told me to lay back on the utility table behind me. I followed his directions and rubbed my clit as I waited.

“Okay, I’m going to put your legs on my shoulders, and you can tell me if you need me to stop whenever you need.”

That honestly felt like a challenge. He expected me to tap out like others must’ve. But I was so fucking wet for him, I knew I was not going to ask for it to stop.

“Okay, so fuck me now, asshole.”

I didn’t want to fuck someone who was going to hold back, and he absolutely didn’t. His nails dug into my thighs as he thrust all of himself into me. I couldn’t breathe or say any words, just gasp and pull desperately at his hair and neck while my brain tried to process all the amazing sensations. I felt as though he was touching my clit through my pussy, yet both his hands were on me. The pressure and fullness of his cock made me feel like I was being touched by a hundred fingers, all tempting and teasing me to succumb to the most mind-blowing orgasm I had up until that point.

He didn’t stop. Instead, he pulled me off the table and held me against the wall, pulling me up and down on his cock. I felt weightless – he was supporting all my weight with his body, delivering pure ecstasy through my body as he relentlessly pounded me while calling me beautiful. My arms flailed above me, trying to grab anything to power through yet another orgasm. I settled for his neck and choked him as I squirted all over his cock, stomach, and chest. I leaned down and licked some of myself off of him, then ran my tongue over his lips.

“I want you to cum for me now. I want it all over my tits.”

With that, he laid me on the table again without pulling out, continuing to fuck me without pause. For another fifteen minutes, he made me cum at least five more times, leaving me a shaky mess begging for him to stop. Finally, he pulled the condom off and proudly stroked his cock above my chest, taking time to run it across my lips and chin, over my breasts, on my nipples. His pace quickened, and he grabbed my shoulder to steady himself once again.

“Please grab my balls. Hard. Grab them hard.”

Surprised, but wildly interested, I obeyed the directions. I squeezed hard and pulled down as he jerked himself off, resulting in a conspicuously loud exclamation. I slapped him across the face, reflexively. I was sure the custodians were still bumbling around, tidying up the office after we were all supposed to be gone.

“SHH, you stupid fucker!”

He moaned again at the same volume, seemingly encouraged by my abuse. What followed was a huge load of cum painting my breasts, chin, and lips. It sprayed all over me, and I tried to avoid it getting on any loose technology around us. He collapsed against the table, wheezing and quietly coughing, trying to play it off cool to me.

“Wow. You are…wow!”

He found his pants and put them on and threw his underwear to me for wiping up the mess. How polite. I handed the cum-covered shorts to him and dressed myself, still feeling disbelief about the entire situation. I gave him a deep hug and nestled my head into his chest.

“Maybe we can do this again sometime, Matt?”

“Maybe not here. I just noticed how much cleanup I have to do. But yes, somewhere, please.”

I gave him one last kiss before exiting the door, clandestinely slinking down the hallway and feeling my heart jump as the motion activated lights turned on. I think we had been alone, but how could anyone really know that? I left the office realizing I wasn’t wearing any underwear when I felt a cool breeze lift my skirt over my knees. I wonder if I’d get those back. Probably not. (I never did.) I wonder if he wishes he had my phone number, or maybe he’s considered adding me on LinkedIn. I wonder what he does with those panties now that I’m only a memory to him. I do many things with his memory, at least.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/orrj9l/fm_the_it_guy_had_a_big_fucking_hard_drive_and_i