My Office
It’s a hot and humid Tuesday, and I’m stuck in my tenth-story office sweating, trying to work, knowing it’s gonna be a late one. I get no cover in this office. Behind me are floor to ceiling windows that look out over the city below, flooding the room with light, while in front of me it was some idiot’s great design to have clear glass. No privacy. At least I get to keep an eye on everyone.
It’s midday, hot. Everyone starts to go for lunch, walking past my office.
I’m not going anywhere. Too much work.
Usually I hate this part of the day, but for once I’m quite enjoying the view. As everyone shuffles past, I see you, smiling as you gossip with your colleagues. A tight long grey dress hugs your body, keeping everything contained,
barely.
Your hair cascades down to a set of black beads draped around your neck. A plunging neck line reveals a glimpse of your cleavage with your breasts testing the limits of the fabric. I notice the sway of your hips as you walk on black high heels. You’re someone who clearly knows how to walk in heels.