It started simply. It started quickly. We transitioned from the occasional flirty glance to daily teasing and talking all because of one moment of my carelessness, one moment of his prying eyes. I was standing in the elevator lobby tapping away on my cellphone, adding the photo I had taken in my car moments before to a text message to someone, and I didn’t know that D was behind me. We rode the elevator up to the top floor together and about halfway up all other occupants got out.
“So did he like it?”
I just stared at him, heart racing, hoping he didn’t mean what I thought he meant. The grin on his cute, boyish face confirmed against my hopes.
I knew I was blushing and all I could say was “He hasn’t replied yet”. The teasing, kinda-cocky glint in his eye brought my own smile out. We said no more, just proceeded to our respective sections to find our cubicles.
In the days that followed a tentative email and a knowing grin while passing by multiplied into more. We found brief moments throughout the workday to surreptitiously tease and flirt via email. Coded words, double entendres, secret communications. A heavily-veiled but obvious-to-us message coupled by an innocent-to-others meeting at the printer 5 seconds after for a few words to be quietly uttered that were most definitely not safe for work.It took a lot of self control for us both to keep straight faces and limit the number of “coincidental” encounters and keep our fun under the radar of nosy nearby co-workers.
Soon we were augmenting our coded emails with raunchy text messages. It didn’t take him long to ask to see that same photo that started it all, the one he only caught a glance of, a flash of naked skin. I pondered that, I weighed the risk. I decided to ask for an insurance policy. I told him I wouldn’t send it to his phone unless he sent me a naughty pic first. For once I managed to silence the boy with all the snappy comebacks. I texted him again and proceeded to describe the photo he was asking for in explicit, sultry words. Then I described another one that was also in my phone. When I told him to meet me at the copier in 1 minute, his response made it hard for me not to outwardly gloat.
“I can’t get up from my desk right now without being obvious that uh….something came up…”
“Show me. Now. Turn away from T and let me see what is so obvious.”
The photo he complied with showed a bulge that seemed out of place in his work pants. Ha! Subtle, but I knew what I was looking at. And thus, the teasing and risque photo dares started (there is something so deliciously naughty about a hard cock surrounded by office clothes). It was hot and arousing and distracting and such a delicious surprise, this turn of events. But yet still…..this did not go beyond work. This did not go beyond glances, words, text and photos despite how close by our cubicles really were. Until…..
Until the day I was wearing this ever-so-slightly sheer top at work. I went into the bathroom to take a photo for him, my bra cups shoved down and tits exposed. The text along with the photo told him that I was leaving my bra like that for awhile and that he should take notice the next time he walked by me. Oh, he noticed. A little while later as we stood by the printer pretending to sort through papers he stood close to me for a moment and accidentally-on-purpose brushed the back over his hand over my breast. The touch caused my nipple to harden instantly. Oh, he noticed. For what felt like minutes but was more like 3 seconds, his fingers lightly caressed my rock hard nipple through my thin shirt. I didn’t breath until he stopped and once he did stop it took me a minute to regain my composure and know that I could walk the 8 feet to my desk. Aided by our clutches of printed papers, me hiding my nipples that could cut glass and him hiding the hard bulge in his dress pants, we scurried back to our cubes where the messages flew back and forth. He knew about my bullet vibrator; he knew I carried it with me but I had told him that I never used it at work before or at least not at my desk. He thought he was being so daring. He asked questions about it and I knew what was coming.
“You should go put the bullet in and turn it on while you’re at your desk…..I dare you, Lilly.”
Oh gee, why gosh no, I couldn’t possibly do that……
Oh, a dare, you say? Well how can I refuse then?
And so it went. He asked, I told, about how good it felt and how naughty I was. I told him how my chest was flushed red and I was so close to coming. It was nearing 4pm. He waited a bit longer, for half of our co-workers to head out for the day, before he came to my desk under the guise of showing me how to look something up in our system. And he saw for himself my beautiful agony, how badly I needed it. While I followed his work-related instruction he whispered “I dare you to come right here at your desk as I watch”.
I should win an Emmy for that performance. Pretending to be taught, pretending to ask real questions, all while letting only barely audible moans escape as he spoke and I ground the bullet into my clit. As I felt that moment of imminent orgasm I couldn’t speak, I could only subtly tap his hand to let him know. He stared and watched the show as I tried to feign normalcy while my body betrayed me. My eyelids fluttered, I jerked three tiny body spasms that slipped from my control, and I felt the heat spread across my face and my chest. When I met his eyes again I saw awestruck lust.
“Thanks for showing me, D, I’ll let you know if I have any other problems.” I smiled serenely and stared at him until he walked away, with a tiny restrained smile on his lips.