thebearwannabe
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I hate working on Saturdays. With everyone gone, I can hear ..
🕑 Added 2025-01-17 19:00:23 +0000 UTCI hate working on Saturdays. With everyone gone, I can hear everything - people on the lower floors, the hum and rattle of the air conditioning, and even sometimes loud conversations and honking from the cars outside. This place still feels creepy, even with the sun shining in from the tall, double-paned windows. I never thought I’d be someone that craves human interaction, even the crappy, vapid kind just asking about the weather, but here we are.
I have to come here by myself a few times a month, which I suppose is great for getting projects done, but it’s normally pretty quiet. Keeping an eye out for calls, answering some emails from clients, and just a lot of sitting. I made my way to the elevator, entering the tiny brass key to get me up to my floor, feeling the familiar lurch as I ascended to the office… the double doors opened, and instead of finding nobody at all - Andrew was there.
Andrew was my boss, about 6 feet tall, large and with an impressive belly I tried my best to not stare at when he walked around my cubicle. He gave me a short wave, expecting my arrival, as he settled in at the desk directly across from mine.
“Hey! Hope you don’t mind me working over here. I have a few things I need to wrap up before Monday and thought you could use the company.”
I smiled in response, quietly happy that if anyone had to be here, it was him. I made my way to my desk, settling down into my office chair and logging into my tools, acutely aware that Andrew was just on the other side of the cheap, carpeted cubicle wall between us.
Soon enough, the phone rang, my computer popping up that it was a newer client that had just signed up with us a few weeks prior. I was dreading this call. They were difficult, and no matter which one of us they spoke with, there were always more problems to resolve, more use cases to accommodate for them, and discounts we had to dispense to keep them from canceling.
Our hellos were brief, and soon enough, the client descended on me with a new barrage of complaints. I stood up from my desk, allowing my legs to stretch for the long talk ahead, looking over at my boss in case he needed to step in. Andrew smiled at me in return, giving a thumbs up as I diffused the situation, pantomiming and mouthing if the AC was working or not. I shrugged, and soon enough saw him wiping his head and lifting his shirt to fan himself. Between every movement I could catch a hint of his belly - It’s roundness, and witnessing for the first time the smattering of hair that lead downwards to his crotch. I could feel my words falter a few times as I gawked. Did he know I was watching him?
The client continued, his tone somewhat less threatening but still talking in a mad dash about not being able to generate his quarterly reports. I only absorbed every other word, watching Andrew slowly lift his shirt, his impressive chest and belly in full display. Our eyes met, a smile creeping across his face as he continued to strip his clothes quietly.
“Y-Yes, I’d be more than happy to re-generate those for you and send them over by Monday.” I could feel the words tumble out of my mouth almost by muscle memory, every part of me transfixed as my boss took off more of his clothes.
A soft moan escaped Andrew’s lips, just enough for me to hear but not the client over the phone, making my grip on the cubicle wall even shakier as he stripped to his underwear, contentedly playing with his package and looking at me yet again. He didn’t need to say anything, and knows I couldn’t, but his question if I wanted him to continue was plastered across his smug face. I bit my lip and nodded in confirmation, still listening to the client complain as Andrew removed his underwear at last, tossing it aside on the low-pile carpeted floor.
His cock was thick, and as he slowly gripped the base and moved downward, he moaned again, this time louder, daring me to keep talking over him and pretend everything was normal. My cock was rock hard now, pressing against the edge of my desk, saying something to the client about budgeting and upgrading his membership plan with us. It didn’t matter. I had to keep talking, saying something, anything, to get through this with my job intact.
Boss smiled, biting his own lip in response now, moving his cock up and down, hoisting his legs over his desk to give me a full view of the show as I continued the phone call. His motions got faster and more frantic, and in return my breath became ragged as the muscle memory started the fail me at last.
I came before he did; I think. My body crumpled, making me hit the dividing wall as Andrew shot his load as well, splattering himself with a sticky load across his fatpad and belly. The client was more irate now, and before it could get any worse, I hung up the call, catching my breath as my boss chuckled at me, trying to catch his own breath as well.
“We’ll have to do this more often.” He said, wiping himself up. “When the client calls back, let me speak with them. We can switch places.”
