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[ Skyro & Tortoise Shell ] O f f i c e Days and Nights;;

T

TortoiseShell

Star
Joined
Dec 21, 2009
College, marriage, employment. Despite their hectic qualities, the seven preceding years have been a whirlwind of joy and excitement to the young Desiree D’Aether. The twenty five years old woman was living her dream and while the small, crowded office was not precisely what she dreamt of, it was part of the route to its achievement and she felt closer to it than ever before. In college, studying psychology, she met the man she decided was the one. Three years later, as she received her bachelor’s diploma, she was wearing a small silver band around her finger belonging to her beloved. He was a little older than her, having been on his way to earning his Master’s degree when they met, and with his salary and savings as well as his family’s considerable fortune it wasn’t hard for them to throw an ample wedding a few months later. For a few years he supported her as she continued her studies and by the time she earned her Master’s degree in Business, the two of them had been married for three years. Then, she found a job in the same company as him, and as he told her the opportunities were endless.

Everything was well. That day was little different from most other days. She was caught up in her work, doing as much as she could as effectively as possible up until the lunch hour. Her husband’s schedule was slightly different and they never ate at the same time, yet it wasn’t a problem – she quickly became part of the team due to her open behavior and a constant happy smile on her pretty face, although she didn’t realize that most men would have done quite a lot to see more of her than the constricting clothes of hers allowed to.

She was an extremely appealing woman, youthful and bright. Her face was delicate and doll like, with high cheekbones, full light pink lips shielding a row of perfectly white teeth, and her lightly tanned skin as smooth as a child’s. The most striking feature of her face, however, was her eyes. They held the unsettling sensuality and innocence paired with vivid intelligence and curiosity, shadowed by long eyelashes. Large and almond shaped, they were of a strange emerald color with speckles of gold along the inner and outer edge, going from emerald to a light blue depending on the season and her mood. Her hair was always carefully done yet looked wild, falling about in rich chestnut waves, and curling toward the ends that reached her waist. The girl’s figure was as close to an hourglass as it got – a tiny waistline, wider hips, a firm D cup and a flat stomach along with long legs and a round rear were enough to make any head turn in the street. The job allowed for a fairly relaxed wardrobe, so she never bothered wearing suits. That day, for instance, she wore a pair of suede grey pumps that added an inch and a half to her five feet and four, with skinny jeans, a white dress shirt with the top buttons undone to let her cleavage peer through and a black blazer on top, giving her a relaxed yet professional air. She didn’t bother with a lot of makeup, applying a light layer of mascara and eyeliner to accentuate her eyes yet nothing beyond.

James, her husband, preferred her to look natural, telling her that she was beautiful that way. She strode across the numerous hallways, hopeful that he was on break yet she didn’t have much luck, bumping into a few men and women she knew instead. Following an incessant stream of conversations and mindless comments and compliments, she made it to the employees lounge after having lost a mere ten minutes of her break. Letting out a low sigh, she took a seat at a couch, pulling her lunch from her bag. She never bothered eating in the cafeteria like most people did – all of them that day it seemed, the lounge was empty. Her lunch was extremely simple – pulling out her bottle of water, tuna sandwich and apple and setting them onto the table in front of her, she concentrated on her sandwich, her gaze glued to the television since there was nobody around to talk to.
 
Simon Clarke was a simple man in his mid-twenties working a majority of his time in a small officer block on the southern side of town. It was a good job, at least he enoyed it. The commute was painless and the area was safe from crime. His hours were good and he was on a healthy hourly wage, with overtime always there if he was short on cash that month.

Simon Clarke, or as is friends called him, 'Clock,' for his impeccable time keeping spent most of his working hours in the office at his desk. Pretty much all his work dealt with paper work with to most was a mundane job that would bore anyone half to death. Clock however, enjoyed the work that he did, he was a perfectionist. All the numbers he ran, all the letters he wrote and all the emails he sent were right, right down to the last letter. Every word had a capital letter and every sentence had a full stop. He was, "Mr Perfect," just not in the usual sense of the word.

He worked at his deak, occassionally flicking his fingers through his dark, messy hair, and did each job without hesitance or delay. A bottle of water, always at his side, he would twirl his bend in his slender hands, his skin perfectly soft. Especially unusual for a man of his sporting nature. Every night he ran for miles, resulting in a heavily built body. His shoulders were broad and chest wide. He was only 5'9" but his body was in perfect proportion.

His large shoulders gave way to a thick neck which lead to his leftly smooth cheeks and of course, onto his eyes. His eyes were a dark colour, but in the right light, they appeared to be hazel and complimented his hair perfectly.

Due to his obsession with perfection, he always wore a suit. Matching jacket and pants, grey. His tie would change everyday and you rarely saw him with the same tie on in a month. Today he wore a soft blue striped die, complete with gold stiching. It contrasted well against his pure white shirt.

It was lunch time, carefully he stacked his paper on his desk and withdrew his brown paper bag labelled 'lunch' from his draw. Usually, he would eat with Jake but today he was out on a sales job and so Clock was left alone. He decided to check the employee's lounge for some company. He stepped across his floor and along the corridor with his large strides and carefully opened the door before netering and onc again, shutting it with care behind him.

Very few people populated the lounge today, he assumed it must be that time of year again where the sales reps meet to discuss whatever it was that they discussed. He looked around and saw a stunnin woman sitting alone on the far side of the room. He made his way to her and looked down at her from his sweet eyes, "May I sit here?" he asked, always the gentleman.
 
Desiree was passionate about life and everything in it. Whatever she did, from mundane tasks such as washing the dishes or watching the television to studying or doing sports, she did accordingly. The television at that moment, with a news broadcast about yet another soldier killed, captured her undivided attention and she hardly realized that she finished her sandwich until her teeth locked on her thumb. It was for that reason that a voice coming out of nowhere caused her to jump, bringing a hand over one of the ample breasts, an apologetic, beautiful smile playing on her lips.

“Oh dear, you scared me,” she laughed in her melodious although deep and seductive voice, moving aside slightly to give him some space. She leant forward to pick up and apple, nodding. “Yes, of course, make yourself comfortable,” she cooed, taking a bite from the apple. The girl was always happy to meet new people, especially when it was so empty. Her BlackBerry emitted an occasional beep whenever her husband found a moment to text her, which turned out to be quite often. At times, she wondered why it was that he never took a break instead of just sitting there, pretending to be doing something.

Especially with that fox around. The only person in the world Desiree disliked was her husband’s assistant. Covered in makeup with long fake nails, she was the epitome of a bimbo. She wasn’t prettier than Desiree, yet looked at the girl as though she was inferior somehow. Truth was, however, the thing Desiree envied her most for was the amount of time spent with her husband. The girl was around all day, while she only had him in the evenings and at night, as well as the weekends. Yet it never seemed to be enough.

“Oh, gosh, pardon my manners. I’m Desiree,” she quickly said with a boyish, sheepish grin, outstretching her hand as she realized that she spaced out once again to lead an internal rant about the damned receptionist. She studied the male briefly, feeling a blush come onto her cheeks as she realized how under dressed she was next to him. Of course he was a man, and it was a lot more necessary for men to wear suits, yet she wondered if he would think badly of her because of her jeans.

Dismissing the thoughts, she found comfort in the fact that he was not her superior. At least she hoped he wasn’t. He was quite handsome, she realized, studying his features. However, as she realized that she was staring – an awful habit of hers, she quickly shook her head and dismissed the fact that the stranger sitting next to her was appealing. The fact that she was married already was amazing, yet at times she forgot about it and almost wished she was free. “It’s so empty today, is there some kind of a meeting or something?” She wondered in an attempt to distract herself, looking around the deserted lounge.
 
He startled her and was hastily apoligising for doing so, he said sorry three or four times in his deep but refined tone. She looked somewhat distacted, like she was thinking about something difficult. Seeing as he had just met her, Clock felt it best not to try and intervene and left her to do her thinking.

After about thirty seconds, the woman in front of him realised his presence again and hastily greeted him. Her name rolled of the tongue, it was as if the angels themselve had spoke it. It was a name he hadn't heard before, but instantly he liked it. Instantly he liked her with a cool atmosphere and bright nature. Her voice was painless on his ears as he listened to her saying sorry a few time. "It ok," he said with a wave of his hand, "no problem at all."

He surveyed her as she spoke, she was under dressed in his opinion but it made her figure stand out as he noticed she had some of the bigger breasts in the officer and certainly one of the smallest waistlines. He couldn't wait for her to stand so he could see her clearly round ass. Every few minutes she would receive a text from someone, he couldn't tell who. Prehaps her husband he thought, noticing the glistening band on her finger. At times, she scowled as she read, but the look did nothing to take away the beauty from her face. There was something special about this woman.

After a few minutes, it dawned on Clock that he hadn't even told her his name! "My name's Simon by the way..." he paused and gave her a deep smile, showing his pearly white teeth, "but the friends call my Clock."

Clock was by no means, useless with the ladies. During his high school years he had many girlfriends, each one he could bend to his needs... or their knees. But since then, he had neatened up and rarely went out on the pull. The last girlfriend he had had was around sixth months prior and he had had no sexual interactions since their breakup. For this reason, it wasn't hard to get Clock flustered as he did looking at the sexy body present to him. She had asked him if there was some kind of meeting today, he has assumed as much, "I think so," he said, still unsure. "Which floor do you work on?" he asked making conversation. He looked around the room, there were few people here other than them and another left shortly after. Lunch was only an hour long, and already he had used twently-five minutes. He needed to get this conversation moving if he was to get his girl's number; even if he couldn't get with her sexually, she was a nice enough lass.

He hadn't got a girl's number in almost three years. He knew this was going to be a good day.
 
Desiree smiled back at the man, almost startled by the beautiful smile of his. He was probably the heart breaker around the office, she decided. The guy was the most handsome person she has met in the building – except her husband, of course, she quickly thought, feeling as though she was cheating on him in her head. At times, she was far too faithful to the guy – before him, she would picture just about every guy she found attractive naked, now she would look away whenever her thoughts went too far.

“It’s nice to meet you,” she chuckled, considering his nickname. “I hope you don’t mind if I call you Simon though?” She grinned, absently twisting the thin band of her ring. It was the only form of jewelry, other than the two pearls on her ears, she wore. She subtly glanced at the clock on her phone, realizing that she had little time left. About to excuse herself and go see her husband, she finally decided against it. She didn’t want to see his secretary, it would ruin her mood and it was far from being something she wanted. Desiree’s biggest problem was her inability to work when she was angry – she took it personally and began hurrying and losing things and making mistakes.

“May I wonder, why Clock?” She wondered with her usual flirty smile, shifting slightly to turn her attention to him, leaving her phone to vibrate occasionally on the coffee table in front of them. She didn’t even realize that he would think anything of her despite his wandering gaze, assuming that since she was married everyone would ignore her physique and simply accept her as a friend.


[[ Sorry, just woke up, brain not fully awake yet! xD ]]
 
He continued to look at her for some seconds before he realised she had spoke again, "nice to meet you too," he replied in an off hand sort of way. He didn't want to seem to upfront, that would ruin any chance of a friendship with this beautiful woman. The next question made him smile, he didn't really like the nickname himself, but he was called it more than he was called his real name. It would be refreshing to hear someone call him Simon again. "Because I'm always looking at the clock," he said, giving a sideways glance at his iPhone. Nearly time to wrap this up and head back, he couldn't be late. He gave a soft chuckle and looked at Desiree's soft features. Her eyes captivated him and he knew it was akward that he should look into them, but he couldn't help it. They were warm, inviting, caring. Certainly not something you saw around this office everyday!

He noticed that she had laid het BlackBerry down on the small glass table in front of them and the red light blinked, and it shook and rattled the table occasionally. Simon longed for the comfort of a woman like Desiree, beautiful, caring and, no doubt smart. He couldn't just leave her in silence he realised! He had lost his touch with woman after a long term relationship and his confidence had been severly knocked as a result. He racked his brain for a question to reply with, something smart and witty, something to attract her attention. He settled on, "married long?" He passed his lips before he could retract it. What was he thinking? That's a silly question!

Again, he glanced at his iPhone while waiting for the response of the beautiful woman in front of him, he only had five minutes before he had to leave to return to his paperwork. For the first time in a long time, he was enjoying the company of a person more than the company of a laptop and pen.

[[No problem, better than what I write anyway!]]
 
[[ Aww, not true. xD ]]

Desiree laughed at his comment, looking at him with an amused expression. “I see,” she nodded, stealing a glance at the clock as well. Lunch always passed by so fast, she thought to herself sourly. Thankfully she took the lunch break quite late – she had another two hours left until she could run home and cook for her husband whose shift ended an hour later that day. “Hm?” She blinked, glancing down at her ring with a chuckle. “Well, I’m not old enough to have been married long,” she replied almost tauntingly, shrugging in a humble, casual manner. “Four years now,” she stated, affection filling her voice as she thought about her husband. Other than the annoying receptionist, their marriage was near perfect and at that point perfection wasn’t boring yet.

She studied him, glancing at his hands only to discover that there wasn’t a single ring there. A part of her envied him – she missed the thrill of flirting, of waiting for a call, everything that took place a long seven years earlier with James. He had been her first love, and while not her first time in everything, they did do a lot of things she has never done before so she figured it counted. “I’m sorry, I’m not stealing your time, aren’t I?” She wondered, arching her eyebrows with a concerned air. “You don’t look like you’ve eaten yet,” she pointed out, extremely straight forward as usual. She glanced at the clock again as well, letting out a low curse. “Well…Looks like I have to go,” she murmured apologetically, sighing. “I work on the third floor by the way,” she remembered his question as she was standing up.

Bending over slightly, she picked up the phone and stood straight again. “You know what? I don’t really know anyone here well, and it gets really boring when you finish everything and there’s still time left. So…text me or something if you have nothing to do,” she flashed him a smile and left her card on the table, waving at the man.

“I’ll see you around, Simon,” she waved with a fairly flirty expression before moving toward the door, her hips swaying in an inviting manner as she walked back to her office.
 
A sad look flashed across his face as she rose. He was out of time! Still, she was a married woman, why was he so keen? Four years of hard work had gone into that marriage and he knew what it was like to have his heart crushed. He watched as she leant down in front of him, exposing her cleavage to him, to pick up her phone. Wow. He tried to keep his breathing steady as she made her goodbyes. She was right though, he had sat there talking to her, completing forgetting about his lunch! He never forgot anything.

As she turned to walk away, his heart sunk, when she turned back around, he was reliefed. She left a card on the table, 'text me.' He had to stop himself sending a text before she had even left the door. Keep your cool. He watched as she walked with a flirtly wiggle of her behind. He checked his clock again, it was about time he was going too. He was sure he had seen a flirty expression flutter across her face, but he couldn't be sure. He sure hoped she did!

He stood up, picking up the unopened and lunch and made his own way to the door, pushing it open and walking out. He walked out a happy man. He passed the lifts as he want, looking at the floor plan which sat between the two metal boxes, he checked what it was that they did on the third floor.

He groaned, desk work. Almost identical to the work he did it seemed. Maybe he'd go up there sometime and see what was going on up there. In the meantime, he hastily made his way back to his desk just as the clock struck the hour, signalling the end of his lunch tower. He reached for his papers, but couldn't concentrate. That was a first, he always had his mind of the game. All he could think about was that perfect round ass wiggling as she walked away and that smile that he was sure contained just a trace of a more flirtation woman behind it.

Fed up, he snatched up his phone and hit 'new message.' He quickly typed, only a short message but properly spelt and complete with grammer. He never used text talk, another one of his many peeves. "Hello, its your lunch friend!" the message simply read. He hesitated before hitting the send button and laying his phone back down again. He went back to scribbling on the paper in front of him, that smile still stuck in his mind's eye.
 
Desiree returned to her office, flipping through the papers with a sigh. Her work was supposed to be creative, yet most of the time she was stuck with paperwork explaining why she did what she did. She had a hard time concentrating. James was getting on her nerves with his attempts to convince her that his secretary was not after him, who in the world tried to convince his wife of that? She sighed, pushing the phone aside for a hundredth time.

Her thoughts shifted to the stranger from the lounge. He was extremely handsome, yet there was something beyond that she found extremely attractive in him. Perhaps it was his dedication to work – she wouldn’t have been caught dead wearing a suit if it wasn’t a presentation day, or perhaps it was that confidence oozing from his pores that drew her in. She shook it off, reminding herself that she was no longer single and instantly felt a pang of guilt toward her attitude with James.

Simultaneously, her phone vibrated and she smiled, figuring that it was her husband. Quickly picking up the cellphone, she found herself staring at the stranger’s text message. She shook her head with an amused grin, mumbling something about fate being a bitch. “Hey there, I see I’m not the only one to be bored. What’s up?” She quickly typed, surprised that there was someone other than her in the world to spell correctly while texting. She didn’t understand the compulsion certain people had of typing everything in three letters when their spell check was readily available. Pressing send, she sent out another message with a loving sentence to her husband and turned back to work, hopeful that the stranger would text her back for some odd reason.
 
Simon leant back, scratching his head. The writing on the page no longer kept him occupied like he was used to. It longer sat in neat little rows, each word keeping Simon in his place for a second longer. Now the writing was just a nuisance. There was only one line of text he wanted to see right now, from the angellic woman he had met less than an hour ago.

After a few mintues he began to feel as if she wasn't going to text back. He was nervous for some unknown reason. He only spoke to her for half an hour! His phone vibrated, with a small 'ding' and he picked it up quickly. He wanted to desperately talk to her again. Even he thought he was a little pathetic.

Through his caring eyes, he read the simple message. So she wrote properly too? Wonderful! He wasn't quite sure how to respond and it was some minutes and five or six different attempts at a text that he settled on 'nothing much, just bored of all these documents!' he signed it with a litte ':)' not something he did often, but he felt such a woman warranted it.

As he hit send once again, his thoughts fell back to her curvy body and sweet voice and those eyes. Those eyes, which captured and held you as their prisoner. He just wanted another peek at those eyes.

He chewed on his pen, peeking at the clock. Not long until the day was over.
 
The girl almost jumped at her phone without ever realizing why she did. She, too, wanted to see him again yet didn’t understand why. It terrified her in a way. She was faithful to James, always had been, yet there was something more about that young man. She let out a low sigh, studying the writing with a smile. “Yeah, same here. Thankfully, I’m done.” She quickly typed, adding a smiley that matched his, just to show him that she didn’t mind the lack of formality in their conversation.

Truth to be told, the only choices she had when it came to conversations were formalities or gossip. Most people were starting to welcome her in their circles, yet she wasn’t really part of a particular one. There were a lot of interesting people in the job, yet most were those who never expected a promotion and simply lived from one day to another – an attitude she found utterly deplorable.

Quickly collecting her things, she stood up, walking toward the elevator, stealing an occasional glance at the phone as she waited for his text. “Have a nice night, hun. You and that hubby of yours just can’t go a moment without each other, huh?” Her floor’s receptionist cooed, chuckling. She was a lot older than most employees, and held a lot of wisdom despite her colorful appearance. At times, however, she simply said things that didn’t really mean anything and put Desiree on the right train of thought or simply pointed out something obvious she never noticed.

“Yeah,” she nodded with a smile, waving. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she murmured, leaving the building with haste.


[[ Should I just skip to the next day? ]]
 
The clock struck home time and Simon picked his phone up, he read the text and quickly put all the papers he would need for work at home into his bag. Zipping it up, the threw the shoulder bag over his shoulder and straightened his suite jacket out. Straightening his tie, he pushed his chair under the table, nodded to David and James who worked across the hall through his office window and stepped out onto the carpetted corridor. Walking back to the lift, he went back down to the ground floor and walked past the receptionist there. She had been flirty with him for some months now and each time he walked past, he noticed her adjust her top and stick her chest out me.

He chuckled to himself, some woman will just throw themselves at men. He shook his head and waved a dismissive hand as he pushed the huge glass doors opened to step out onto the street. He took his phone from his pocket as he walked to his car and typed a quick return message, "good to be going home," he let it sit for a while tempted to ask her to lunch for a chat and coffee the next day, but he felt it too forward, especially with a married woman and just quickly hit send insread.

He opened the car, stepped in and pulled out. All the while, thinking, tomorrow couldn't come quick enough.
 
Desiree was already home when she received the man’s text massage and quickly turned on her phone, smiling. “Mhm. Already home,” she typed, adding a wink and pressed send. The rest of the evening went in the same fashion, and through meaningless text messages she somehow felt closer to the man. Of course she was the type of person to fall in love with a squirrel in less than five minutes, yet she was glad to have someone she called friend at work.

Things went along a downward spiral once James returned home. He was angry for some reason, and so was she and somehow things escalated to a point where, for the first time in their relationship, instead of having makeup sex at the end of the fight, they simply lay in bed, back to back. The morning was the same thing.

She hardly even cared what to wear, throwing on a high waist black pencil skirt which was a lot more formal than her previous attire, a white fitted dress shirt with rolled up sleeves and a pair of black pumps. Her hair was attached in a loose ponytail, a pair of square glasses shielding her eyes. In her bad mood she somehow acquired incredible sensuality.

The day went down the hill as well. A few minutes before lunch, she found herself shredding papers and accidentally slipped in a paper confirming a transfer without knowing that there were copies of it online. The poor girl, new to the establishment, almost broke down crying at that point. Suddenly, she remembered Simon and decided to see if he could help. “Oh god. I shredded a completed transfer form. What do I do? Is it bad?” She quickly typed, terrified.

Nevertheless, there was little she could do so she walked off to the lounge, hopeful that he would appear and save her soon.
 
Simon was an honest man. At least he tried to be. If he found a dollar on the floor at the office, he would ask who it belonged to. If his friend was making a prat of themselves, he told them so. He was always honest...

Getting into work that day, wearing the same suit but with a brighter tie than usual, silver with little gold stiching. He was happy, most of last night had been sent sending meaningless text messages to his new friend and he was happy that he could finally call someone a friend that did not have something between their legs.

Sitting down at his desk, he took a sip of his water and layed his phone down in front of hims. First things, first, emails. He opened his laptop and rapped away at the keys, only changing looking away to check the clock in the corner. He longed for lunch time, hoping he would get to see Desiree again. Then her text came, his phone made the familar 'ding' and flashed her name as the message was received. He quickly picked it up and a smile crept across his lips. It was her.

He read the text message and was puzzled by it, shredded a transfer form? They were always backed up on the officer computers. Prehaps she didn't know. The lock signalled lunch time, and instead of texting back his made his way to the lounge to see if he could speak to the wonderful woman in person. He opened the door and she sat in the same place as yesterday. Only this time, he didn't need her to bend over for him to become quickly excited. She say with her legs cross, her eyes carefully placed behin designer glasses and her hair in a neat ponytail. It was like something out of a dream. He gingerly made his way over to her, trying to keep semi-erection from displaying itself. He say down next to her and with a smile spoke, "Desiree..." he paused, "About that form." He could have told her right there and then about the copies but he chose not to. He didn't know why, "I'm sure we can sort it," he said, in a deep tone instead.
 
Just like during the previous afternoon, Desiree was lost in thoughts. Although saying that her marriage was crumbling down would have been a great exaggeration, there was something very wrong that they chose to ignore rather than addressing, too caught up in their careers to actually do anything. She wanted a child; he wanted to become a father in a year or two, his life far too planned out for such a major interruption. She wanted a large house in the suburbs; he was happy with the apartment downtown that was fit for a young couple yet far from appropriate for a family. Everything felt rushed and annoying. The glass shattered as she noticed – after seven years of a relationship – that she hated certain things he did. Nothing major, simply trivial, daily things, yet for some reason she got extremely annoyed by them. Her only source of help for that was the episode of ‘How I Met Your Mother’ where the couples who really loved each other ended up forgetting all about the little things.

And now there was that accursed form. Why in the world would she have put it in there? At that point, she was convinced that she would get fired. They were looking for people to cut, and the slightest mistake would cost her the job. Thing was, she dreamt of being a management analyst for years, having invested endless efforts and time into her education and the extracurricular activities which allowed her to get the job. Suddenly, she heard the familiar voice.

Looking up, she attempted a smile at Simon, one that was despite her best attempts clearly different from those a day before. It was tired, frustrated and worried. “Hey,” she whispered, her eyes lighting up as he mentioned that they could sort it out. Animated, she almost jumped to face him, her breasts bouncing against the tight fabric of her shirt with the movement. “Oh my god,” she exclaimed, resting both of her hands on his arm. “Really? Oh, god, you would save my life,” she murmured, a more genuine smile taking place on the pretty face. “How?” She finally wondered, hopeful that it was an easy, rapid process.
 
Simon carefully weighed up his options. He could tell her he could easily print one, or he could make it look like a great hassle to obtain a replacement copying. Her elation when he told her about the document was pleasing, he could see her breasts bounce about in her new attire. For the third or fourth time in a few days he was starting to get turned on. He REALLY needed a woman in his life right now to stop this sort of thing from happening.

Simon sat forward purposely, sitting his phone on the table in front of them, he turned his body slightly to face the beautiful, yet worried woman in front of him. He could see her concern in her face, plus another emotion he couldn't quite place. It was a sort of scowl, the sort you get after an argument. That was it, he would tell the lie and see how far he could get.

As he turned, his leg brushed hers and he apoligised before continuing with what he had to say, "I can get you a copy," he began, "but its risky, hell it could cost my job if I get caught." He tried to catch Desiree's eye, he watched as she listened intently.

"So, I need a real reason..." he paused, looking for some sort of reaction in her face, seeing none he continued, "some sort of motivation."

He had laid his cards on the table, the question was, what hand was she playing?
 
Desiree dismissed Simon’s leg touching hers as well as his apology – she was far too preoccupied with the thought of losing her job to remember such things. She listened to every word he spoke, bringing the side of her hand to her lips in a loose fist pensively. She weighed her own options, trying to figure out what exactly it was that he meant by those words. On one hand, she didn’t want him to lose his job – a piece of paper wasn’t worth it, and she would feel too guilty to continue working. She was a major in psychology, not a type A med student.

“I see,” she whispered, nodding slowly, her gaze trailing off to the floor as she tried to figure out whether she wanted to risk it or not. “I don’t know, you probably shouldn’t try if it’s that risky, I don’t want you to lose your job because of me,” she exclaimed, making sure to keep her voice low through their conversation, giving it a certain air of intimacy and conspiracy.

Generally, she would have gone to see James yet she was too angry at him still and didn’t want him to tell her that she was useless at the job. Although he was as sweet as a teddy bear, when pissed he could be extremely hurtful since he knew what strings to pull.

Desiree’s hand came to rest on his knee unconsciously, her gaze traveling over his. “Well what do you want?” She finally asked in a soft murmur, her question tentative and her voice almost scared.
 
He watched as she considered what she could do. It took her a few seconds before she spoke, something about not wanting him to lose him job. He chuckled to himself, like that was going to happen.

He continued to wait, searching her face to see if she understood exactly what he was hinting at. Soon, her hand made its way to his knee and although he didn't react, he certainly noticed. Maybe she was getting the idea. As she leaned close to whisper to him, he could smell her perfume. It was sweet and suited her perfectly. He smelt it for a few seconds while she asked what it as that he wanted.

He paused and looked into her eyes; "There's many things a man wants from a woman like you," he begun, "and I'm sure are the right..." he paused for effect, "price, I can sort your issue."

He felt bad doing this, it felt like blackmail. But he craved her so much, he looked at her face, waiting for an indication of her decision, his excitement mounting.
 
Desiree blinked at the man’s statement, her large, surprised eyes freezing upon his. She moved her hand away, leaning back slightly with a confused air. She had very much thought that they became something close to friends over the night of text messages flying back and forth, yet quickly discovered how mistaken she was. “Oh,” she let out in a disappointed, distant tone, nervously biting on her lower lip.

Truth was, if she had been single she would have jumped at the occasion even without the blackmail. Instead, however, she found herself in a very delicate position. “I…I’m married Simon,” she murmured, conflict pasted across her face. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what a man could want from a woman, and while she wasn’t vain she knew that she looked good.

She leaned against her open palm for a few moments, slowly exhaling. She decided that she would have to do it, the anger becoming the main drive in her decision. It was stupid, yet she didn’t want to lose her job.

James would surely bang his stupid secretary since he was pissed at her, she decided. “Fine, just whatever,” she nodded in lassitude. "Why? Why not Annie, she's single and more than willing," she murmured, referring to the secretary. She wasn't on her floor, and she wasn't certain whether she was on his or not, yet figured that he knew her considering her love for attractive men.
 
He felt bad, but that made him feel good. She had agreed, the only issue now was the venue. They could either go back to his desk and risk it there or head to a cubical in one of the many toilets through out the building. It didn't matter to him really, he hadn't had sex in almost six months and that drought was about to end, his thrist quenched.

He smiled a deep smile at her, he longed for her, and he knew it wasn't as if she had no interesting in him. He had been worried when she said she was married for a few seconds before she eventually accepted. Simon allowed his hand to find her knee this time. "It okay," he cooed, "it'll be fun." He didn't want her to feel completely bad about this... and he had got to know her... a bit.

He stood and turned to face Desiree, he closed his eyes thinking about what feast lay ahead of him and then smiled another deep smile at the woman in front of him as she tried to read him. "All your problems will go away," he reminded her when she appeared to hesitate. Another smile from Simon preceeded his next comment, "where to?" his smile turning from a deep, almost caring smile into a mischievous grin.

Fun.
 
Desiree flinched as his hand made its way to her knee, letting out a low sigh. “It’s not about fun, Simon. I just figured you were different,” she pointed out, crossing her arms under her breasts with an uncomfortable air. His following statement made her laugh almost mockingly, shaking her head. “Just like that, hm? All of my problems with my husband and work will go away once I cheat on him. Great logic,” she murmured, standing up.

Where to? She looked around with an almost terrified air. He wanted to do her in the building, where hundreds of people walked around, opening just about every door? For a moment, she froze, studying him like he was a madman. “What?” She mumbled, studying that awfully sexy yet annoying considering the situation grin of his.

“You want…now?” She stuttered, pressing her hand against her forehead with a sigh. “No…I can’t, not here,” she shook her head. “James will find out,” she stated, imagining how disgusted with her would be if he were to open a door and find his beloved wife with a man she had only met a day earlier. Twenty four hours sufficed to destroy seven years of a relationship, an awful thought.
 
Simon turned and gave her an intential frown. "Well, they check the documents on a nightly basis..." he bagan. This was true, of course but he could easily go print her a copy in the next few minutes and sort the whole fiasco out. But his lust over ruled his morals.

He was hurt to be called the same as all other men, "I am different," he started but he knew his case was a no ho. He was blackmailing her 24 hours after meeting after all...

He stared at her, waiting for her to make her move. "There's lots of privacy," he suddenly said in hushed tones. He was starting to get desperate. He thought briefly about her previous quesion, her marriage was on the rocks.

Good news.
 
Desiree let out a low sigh at his words, shaking her head. She tried to figure out which spot would be most secluded. Finally, she decided that her office was. Everyone in her hallway was on lunch break and her blinds were always down and most doors were locked at that time. “Yes, you clearly are,” she answered dryly.

“Fine. I’ll be in my office,” she finally said and disappeared from the room, going to her office. Thankfully it was empty just as she predicted, and would be so for another fifty minutes or so. After that, things would get so crowded that nobody would even bother noticing his presence.

She took a seat on her clean, empty desk and stared at the door, waiting for her coworker to appear.
 
Simon wore a broad grin, checking the clock for the time he saw he would have plently of time to 'rescue' this young lady. Again, he chuckled to himself, he had to admit, it was a masterful plan. He would now bang the hottest chick in the office and he would get to do it on her desk of all places!

He hastily left the room, checking he had a condom in his wallet. He would only wear that if she forced him too, he rather just withdraw and drop his load elsewhere. These were the things that ran through his mind, how was he going to fuck her? How was he going to cum? How would he pleasure her? He believe in fair play after all.

He took the elavator and was soon standing outside her office, without knocking, he turned the door handle and walked straight in, "Hello again," he said in his deep, smooth tone.
 
When Simon entered the room again, she didn’t bother smiling at him, simply walking up to the man looking as though she was about to kiss him. However, she walked right past him and shut the door, quickly locking it. The office was fairly sound-proof since people needed privacy during their conversations with clients, so she figured that the sound wouldn’t be much of a problem.

The dark blinds hid everything, leaving them in relative darkness if it hadn’t been for the lamp on her desk. She was about to tell him to cut the crap but realized that she didn’t want to get him pissed either. After all, he could have simply fucked her and left if she did that.

“Mhm,” she nodded absently, trying to ignore her heart’s accelerated pace as she heard that smooth voice of his. There was something about the man that drove her crazy. “Can we just hurry up and get this over with?” She wondered, walking up to him, expecting the man to do as he pleased.
 
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