Monday, 21 January 2013

STORY: 'Stuck At A Desk, Part 1'

Sexual tension. Office politics. Personal vendettas. A typical day at your office too?

But would you go to the same extent to deal with it as one of CBW's frustrated employees?

When CBW (Crash! Bang! Wallop!) researcher Craig grows increasingly frustrated with his bullying and jealous boss, he exacts his revenge in a rather unique fashion when alone in the office each evening. But things take an unforeseen turn when Craig is spotted carrying out his scheme. With his career potentially hanging in the balance, he realises that help can come from the most unsuspecting people. Who is his new partner in crime, and what will they both do to see the job through? 

This adult erotic short story is the first of three parts, and contains multiple office masturbation scenes, oral sex and fantasy sex, and make you think about the even frutier sexcapades to follow in the next instalments!

Length:  7,500 words (approx.) 

Buy it from Amazon now! 


Eight hours later, with the time now approaching 9pm, Craig was back in his usual position: slumped over the large communal meeting table that was now his night-time home.
“I should have a fucking bronze plaque engraved,” he spat. “Here sat Craig Taylor: exploited SRE, and apparent bitch of issue-ridden AD - also a bitch.”

Ever since leaving the meeting room, he had done well to keep his temper at bay. Of course Fartpants had acted all caring and considerate when she approached his desk in the early afternoon. He could have an informal chat about ‘things’ anytime – she was there for him, she reminded him. Anytime, Craig reckoned, except for when some work was required and she could get off her fat arse to actually help. Craig might not have had twenty years of corporate life and experience to call upon. He did however have his occupational psychology degree. And it was screaming to him: classic passive aggressive bullying behaviour.
Craig needed a coping strategy; something to keep his sanity intact, his anger in check, and his desire for revenge sated. Wanking on his bitch boss’s desk remained the best solution.
With Mozart still reverberating, Craig reclined in the chair. It was time to ‘cope’ once again. Putting his feet up on the chair beside him, he slowly placed his hand on his crotch. Through the woollen fabric of his dark dress trousers he felt his cock safely tucked within his dark blue trunks.
It was time for that to change.
Slowly rubbing his hand up and down the length of his organ, his thoughts once more turned to Miss Middle East. He really should find out more about her. Where did she come from?
Regardless of where she came from, she had now well and truly moved into Craig’s ‘loft space’.  His mind was fully occupied with her. His hand had been replaced by hers, rubbing his cock rhythmically whilst increasingly tightening her grip.
The subsequent hardening wasn’t lost on Craig: he smiled to himself as the sensations coursed through him, as his cock now strained within his underwear, now bulging beneath his trousers. His object of lust had now hitched her black evening dress up to her thighs, effortlessly straddling him. Leaning down to kiss him slowly and probingly, she untied her long dark tresses. Craig’s eyes feasted on the cascading locks that both fell behind her neck and in front of her chest, drawing attention to her elegant and fully developed curves.
Instinctively, he slowly reached out to cup them and feel their warmth. Sliding his hands around her sides and underneath the dress, he brought them back to the front. His hands earnestly sought to feel her breasts. He made out the very thin, probably sheer, bra – most likely black to accompany her dress.                      
His first touch of her nipples drew a sharp intake of breath. She backed away from his hungry mouth as if to take stock of the situation. But in reality there was nothing more to comprehend: they were mutually seducing one another. She smiled at Craig, biting her lip with the utmost suggestion attached, before tilting her head down and cupping his face in her hands.
As she slowly grinded on top of Craig’s now engorged prick, the friction was by now considerable. His prick yearned to be freed of any such restrictions. But that was merely the beginning of what it and its owner sought.
Allowing himself to savour the images and feelings that were now running amok in his head, and further down, his eyes closed. Yes, men of course were visual creatures, especially when it came to the opposite sex. At this exact moment in time therefore, a computer monitor, folders, stapler, and a big jumbo pad of fluorescent sticky notes were at best surplus to requirements, and at worst a downright distraction.


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