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“Is that your stationery cabinet?” I walk over to the opened unit on the other side of the office. It’s stacked high with dozens of planners, all in different colors.
“Don’t touch anything. I know where everything is. Don’t mess up my system.” She jumps out of her chair.
Labeled clear-lidded boxes are filled to the brim with rainbow-colored stickers, inserts, highlighter pens, page markers, and washi tape. What the fuck is washi tape? I laugh in confusion.
She closes the door and pushes my chest, moving me away from her coveted planner stash.
“No touching.” She waggles her pointer finger at me.
I hold my hands up in surrender. “Got it.”
She skips back to her chair.
“Can I help with anything?” It would get it done quicker.
“Nope. I’m good. I just need an hour, then I am all yours.” She’s already distracted, reading something on her screen. “I don’t think I like my job anymore.”
“No?”
“It’s the same crap, every day and night. It used to excite me.”
“And now?”
“Mundane, expected, and recently I’ve been asking myself, is this all there is to my life? Last night was the first time I have been out on a Saturday in months that wasn’t in a work capacity.”
“Maybe you need a vacation?”
“Or a new job.” She sighs. “Ignore me. I get like this from time to time.” Her expert fingers glide across her keyboard, creating a pandemonium of tapping sounds.
“I’ll take Pom-pom for a walk, then.”
“I’m not sure what I am ordering tonight to eat. You pick.”
“Or I could fuck you on this desk.” She’s not listening to me.
“Sounds like a good choice to me. Do they do chili prawns? I love them. But extra hot.”
“Or lick your lovely pussy under the desk while you’re sorting out your emails.”
She taps angrily on her keyboard. “Jennifer, there is no more money left in the budget for a new ergonomic chair for your home office.”
She hasn’t noticed I’m now standing by her side. I spin the chair around and lean over her.
She sucks in a breath. “What are you doing?”
“Helping you relax.” I slide my hands up her thighs, bronzed by today’s sun.
“But I am work—” I cup my hand over her mouth.
“Shhhhh. Will you stop talking?” I raise my eyebrows.
She nods her head.
“Good girl. And keep the glasses on; they make you look like a sexy secretary.” I remove my hand.
I trace my fingertips all the way up her thighs to the hem of her booty shorts.
“Lift your hips up for me.”
