textfiles/sex/EROTICA/W/working.txt

Archive-name: working-late

I hate working late.

I've always hated working late.  Except for one night.

It cracks me up when I think about it, actually.  That night was the
first one I had been stuck in the office working overtime in the
entire semester.

I remember it like it was yesterday....

			 _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


     "I need that presentation by tomorrow, Monique."
     I sat back in my chair with a crack, and stared, open-mouthed, at
the woman lounging on the desk in front of me.
     "What?!  Daphne," I began, "you know that I need at least three
days to work on a slide presentation for you, and -- "
     "Save it."  Her interruptions were like bullets exploding from a
high caliber gun.  Projectile.  Merciless.  And usually right on
target.  She swung her legs off the desk, and stood up with a yawn.
"You knew I would be teaching this class now, for what... two days?"
She began collecting her things.  "And... you know that I always have
you do my presentations."
     In a last desperate attempt for a night of sleep, I broke the
eleventh commandment: Thou shalt not cut Daphne off.  "Yeah, I know
all that, but you didn't ask me, so I naturally thought...."
     Her icy brown eyes stopped my speech altogether.  Her last words
as she sailed out the door were, "And make it good, huh, Monique?
Your last presentation was rather shabby."
     As my eyes alternately widened with disbelief and narrowed with
hate, I heard a shuffling behind me.  Of course, I was far too busy
planning the first chapter of my novel, "1001 Painful Ways to Murder
Your Supervisor" to care, or even pay attention to the slight sound.
     "Monique?" a gentle voice broke into my reverie.  "Are you all
right?"  I turned around and found myself facing Theodore, the
"professor" of the student workers.  Shy, quiet, subtly handsome,
Theodore always had managed to escape my notice when I searched for
possible lovers.  Typical, as I'm such an outgoing, talkative person,
and he's so... so... quiet.  Oh yeah, and predictable.
     Unfortunately, this was another time when I wouldn't have time
for Ted.
     "Hey, Ted," I breathed.  "I have so much crap to do."  I leaned
back in my chair and let out a low whistle.
     Ted eased himself into the seat next to me.  "Yeah, I heard."
     I turned to him, and began to rant.  "Dammit, Ted, why does that
troll pick on me?  I mean, what have I ever done to her?  Why, me?..."
As I continued to wallow in my self-pity, Ted rose from his chair, and
placed his hands on my shoulders.  I didn't expect this from a person
from whom I had never heard twenty words spoken at one time; and I
involuntarily jerked away from his touch.
     An uneasy silence passed between us as I realized that that one
show of affection had probably taken days of working up to, and I had
smashed it with a twitch that I couldn't even help.
     I swept my long, dark hair out of eyes with one hand, and said,
"I'm sorry, Ted, I'm just so stressed right now, and -- " He quickly
backed away from me, and turned to face the window.
     "Sure... I understand," he stammered.  But before I could offer
any more lame apologies, he grabbed his backpack and headed for the
door.  "No problem anyway," he mumbled.  "I need to work late, too."
     He was out the door before he could see the shocked look on my
face.  I couldn't decide if I wanted company or not.  I rested my chin
in my hands, and stared glumly at my computer screen.  And what
company, at that.  I decided that we were probably going to exchange
under twenty-five words the entire night, and pushed the impending
visit out of my head.  I laced my fingers behind my neck, and began to
think of how I would organize the stupid presentation....

     About seven or eight hours later, I heard a key in the door.
Both surprised and pleased at the distraction, I looked up at the
clock and saw that it was close to 2:00 am.  I yawned, and uncrossed
my legs for a good, long, stretch... just as Theodore came through the
door.  I balled my hands into fists and rubbed my eyes.  "Mmmm... hey
there Ted, howyadoin?"  When I didn't hear an answer, I opened my
eyes... and found Ted staring at my shirt.  At work I always wear
button-down oxfords, trying to achieve the professional look.  Well,
the professional look doesn't mean diddly at 1:00 in the morning, and
I had unbuttoned the first three buttons of the shirt.
     I wasn't really offended or anything, having Ted look down my
shirt -- I was wearing a teddy underneath -- but... for some reason...
I don't know, I just never had considered Ted a flesh-and-blood man
before.  He was the type who helped you when you needed help on
installing programs, or repairing a broken disk.
     Grateful for the attention -- it was a long time since I had had
a man look at me like that, after all -- I gave Ted a smile, and
actually LOOKED at him for the first time.  Medium brown hair, rather
pale white skin, tall... I love tall men... thin, but not gaunt, wiry,
but lightly muscled.  I tried to think what he was seeing as he
studied me: a young woman, voluptuously built, tall, well-endowed
bosom, curvy without being fat.  Long dark brown/black hair, well past
my shoulders.  Exotic-looking, I've been told, as my mother is black,
and my father, Native-American.
     But what did I look like just then?  Probably tired, baggy
eyes....  But a look at where his eyes were focused reassured me that
he wasn't in the least bit interested in my eyes.  My breasts and my
legs are my best features, and I was more than flattered as he gaze
shifted from my chest to my thighs.  My skirt had ridden up from the
long hours shifting in the chair, and the hemline rested about 2
inches from the tops of my thighs.  I AM modest, though, and I was
embarrassed that he could see where my stockings were clipped onto my
garter belt, so I yanked my skirt down, but just at the right speed
that he was awarded another look.
     It was then that I felt a twinge below my abdomen.  I couldn't
believe that a few looks were having this kind of effect on me!
Embarrassed that he might have seen the slight arousal on my face, I
hurriedly started in on the small talk.  "So, uh, what exactly do you
have to do tonight?  I thought I was the only one who had to work
overtime."
     Silence.  I was becoming uneasy, and disgruntled... and aroused.
This was unheard of for me, I am one who can easily control her
emotions.  But there I was, wanting this man who I didn't even know
that well, and in what an atmosphere!  Computers all around, humming
with energy, disks scattered on the various desks.
     I sought Ted's eyes again, and once more tried to keep my cool,
even as I felt the insistent stirrings underneath my skirt.  "Perhaps
you can help me with this presentation," I mumbled, licking my lips
and pulling on my earlobe.  "I'm not quite sure that this is the right
way to dooooOOOOHHH!"  I finished as I felt his lips, one moment feet
away from mine, now pressed tightly upon my own.  I struggled and
tried to push away but his arms had come around me in the next second,
and now held me prisoner in his embrace.  What happened next?  I can
only explain it one way -- I melted.  Yes, I melted there in his arms,
I felt my knees give way, as his tongue pushed through my lips,
seeking my own.
     As I felt myself falling, he slipped one arm underneath my now
useless knees, and the other around my waist, and whisked me into a
chair, none other than the chair of the supervisor from hell!  My mind
was whirling from all the sensory input being absorbed at one time.
Ted's tongue on mine, his arms around me, and now, suddenly, his hand
working at the remaining buttons on my shirt!  I struggled once more,
whipping one hand through the air for a slap.  But, traitor hand!
Instead of smacking his cheek, my fingers entwined themselves in his
lush hair and brought his mouth ever more tighter on mine.
     Within seconds my shirt fell off my shoulders, and finally, Ted's
mouth left mine.  The shock of his kiss was nothing compared to the
shock I experienced when his fingers lightly grazed my now-erect
nipples.  My gasp was audible, even as I savagely bit down on my lower
lip to hold in my pleasure.  The teasing way he idly dragged his hand
across my breasts was unbearable; involuntarily, I grabbed the teasing
hand and placed it directly upon one breast, as I pushed his head down
towards the other.
     What is happening here?  I asked myself.  How can this be, and
other similar questions raced across my conciousness, only ceasing
when he lightly bit one nipple through the silky fabric of my teddy.
All caution, all inhibitions were thrown to the wind, as a bolt of
pure heat ripped through the place where my legs met.  I didn't
struggle as he pulled the teddy over my head; in fact, I helped,
raising my arms far above my shoulders, and shrugging the lingerie
off.
     My eyes were closed in pleasure, with slight moans escaping my
lips.  But anticipation turned to apprehension when Teddy paused once
again.  My eyes flew open as I desperately tried to remember what bra
and panty set I had put on that morning.  Ahhh, I remembered, suddenly
which set I had donned.  Red satin demi-bra, lace just barely holding
in my ample breasts.  Panties, the same; thong, the cut riding far up
my thigh, as I like the snug fit.  Lace covering my mound, and with a
satin crotch... a satin crotch that was rapidly becoming more and more
soaked as Ted continued his sweet attack.
     Nevertheless, I looked at Ted with apprehension, afraid he had
suddenly changed his mind, or something along those lines.  On the
contrary, the look of lust I saw on his handsome face caused another
warm tide of pleasure to come crashing through me, resulting in
another wave of wetness between my legs.  When his lips finally closed
around one of my hard brown nipples through the cloth of the bra, I
lost all sense of control, and put my hand on his crotch.
     The bulge was fascinating!  Somewhere, in a corner of my mind
that had not blacked out with sheer pleasure -- yet -- I had time to
wonder where he had been hiding that terrific size and girth all this
time, before he roughly pushed my bra up to my neck.  His mouth
devoured my sensitive skin, sucked on my nipples, and his hands
restlessly kneaded the flesh there.
     My need was exquisite; my desire had long before taken over all
coherent thought.  "Teddy," I moaned, "please... I need... inside...
down there."  Sentence formation was far beyond my capabilities, and
yet Ted knew exactly what I needed, what I was asking for.  Abruptly
he left my heaving breasts, and kneeled before me.  So quick were his
movements, that I had scarcely stopped feeling the sensations on my
nipples and flesh, then my ankles were hooked on his shoulders.  I
felt fingers stroking the crotch of my panties, and from far away I
heard his voice...
     "Oh, Monique, oh, God, you... you're so WET...."
     Fingers pulling my panties away from my slit, fingers thrusting
in and out of my wetness, fingers being pushed into my mouth ("Taste
yourself... try your sweetness"), fingers became my world.  A rip as
my flimsy panties tore in two, thoughts pushing into my mind (My
panties!  Damn, and they were my favorite), and being pushed back out
as his tongue flicked across my clitoris.
     (oh he's gonna look like a glazed donut when he's finished)
     Swirling grays, blacks, reds, greens, as he kissed my joy button,
and began to playfully push his tongue in and out of my folds of
flesh.  Hands ripping hair as I come on his face, in his mouth
     (OWW!  Monique!!!!)
     mumbled (Mmmm... sorry)
     incoherencies breathed into his ears
     (now... in.. yess... nonononooooohhhh.. in.. me... push it in)
     The feeling of his tip pressed on my glistening opening, suddenly
in suddenly deep
     (so BIG.. unh...)
     Slippery sliding sliding down a wave a wave that ebbs and slows
and comes crashing, the tide as I come, and come, and feel him
reaching his climax, hands in hair, mouth on mouth, pushing, and
thrusting, so wet, and deep,
     (ohhh.. he found.. unh.. he found... my.. found my... SPOT)
climax, reds and golds, invading my sight, a welcome invasion, as he
pulls out
     (damn) and spills his creamy load... directly on Daphne's leather
chair.
     (GOOD <heh, heh>)

			_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _


Oh, I still hate working late.

But now, I have two joys about working overtime.... one is that my now
steady lover Ted works overtime as much as I do....

The other is looking at the stains which never came out of Daphne's chair.


Monique Jewett