Story of the Week: Lunch Break

I’d been working at the giant global financial services firm for whatever the definition of “too long” is when I finally found something to help me pass the time. The Thing’s name was Tyler and I neither knew nor cared about what his last name was. He worked in the mail room which wasn’t really a far cry from my menial desk job, except his job had the added benefits of being able to walk around. I was chained to my desk, and while in any other circumstances that sounds exciting, these were chains were figurative. I was miserable, and I knew it. The one shiny beacon of my day was my lunch break.

Most low-level employees at a large corporation look forward to their lunch break for reasons other than mine. It’s the one hour that they get to actually walk around, maybe go sit in the sun for a quick second and pretend that they are at their asinine soul-crushing jobs of their own volition. Maybe they could accept their lamentable station in life when they compared themselves to someone else, say, that homeless person searching through the trash, or the pathetically dressed German tourist families that frequent the Financial District. I used to think like that until I came to the conclusion, after a heated altercation with my own stapler, that I was completely fucking over this job. I was doing everything I could to get fired, save for stealing – I’d leave that desirable task to the CEO’s. I was just hoping to be let go, get a severance and then I’d figure my life out. Until then, at least I had my lunch hour.

It started one day when Tyler strolled by my desk and furnished me with a wink. What an asshole. No one winks at me, even if I’m not at work. So I called him an asshole, right there, in the middle of the office. Not a single one of my co-workers noticed because everyone there is partially dead inside. But that stopped Tyler in his tracks.

“What did you say to me?”

“I called you an asshole.”

“Bitch.”

“What?” I was irate. Did he really just call me that?

“You heard me. You’re a fucking bitch.”

And then something happened that surprised both of us. We started to laugh.

Ten minutes later, there we were, on my lunch break, in the supply room, fucking.

This went on for months. Whenever either of us felt like a quickie, we would give each other the signal. His was to wink at me. Mine was to slowly mouth the word, “Asshole”. Original, it was not, but it did the trick.

We’d meet in the same cramped, stuffy supply cabinet right at 12:30. I wanted to have an extra few minutes to spare after our time to get something from the vending machine. Most days I didn’t wear underwear to work because I delighted in Tyler knowing that I was keeping my pussy available to him at a moment’s notice. He had to do things for me too, don’t get me wrong. He was my little bitch as much as I was his. I made him shave his pubic hair after our first encounter. If he liked mine bald as a badger, he’d have to do the same for me. Plus, it made his dick look even bigger than it was, which was already rather exceptional. He liked that I wanted to suck his cock until he came in my mouth, and I kept challenging myself to see how deep I could shove it down my throat. This is also why I preferred that he have no hair there; I didn’t like the scratching in my nose.

We’d alternate between who would take charge, punishing each other for things that neither of us did wrong, but were somehow so, so bad. One time he bound my hands to the bar on the shelving over my head with tape while I was fully naked, and I wasn’t allowed to move or make a sound while he sucked and teased my clit for what must have been 20 minutes until I broke down and begged him to fuck me, which he eventually did, roughly, bent over a chair. That day he wouldn’t let me suck his cock, so during the next encounter I tied him to the same chair he had fucked me on, and spent a good half hour just lightly stroking his cock and licking the tip until finally burying it deep in my mouth. He came in two seconds. Then I shoved my pussy in his face until I came. That was a good day.

I finally got laid off from the firm which later turned out to be a major player in the financial collapse of 2008. No matter, it was a contemptible place full of gluttonous behavior, much like my relationship with Tyler. In the end, we all got fucked. I just like to think I got the better end of the deal.

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