Veronica's Workplace Discovery

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Veronica discovers a sensual secret about her coworker Eric.
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EWbball69
EWbball69
17 Followers

An angry rain was falling in sheets, rattling the glass skylight that Eric was mindlessly staring out of. Streaks of water were skimming across the pane as the wind howled. Spring had arrived, but just barely. It was cold outside. April in Minnesota. A shiver went through him.

Eric purposefully situated his desk under the opening in the ceiling so he could escape the monotony of boring taupe walls, grey cubicles, and the constant noise that made up the floor he worked on. The small window was a wonderful mental respite — something that allowed him to escape when needed.

Luckily, Eric had an office. "Perks of being a boss," he mused, when he moved in about a year ago. It was a place to escape the humming printers, the ringing phones, the pecks of keystrokes, and the chatter of his co-workers who took pride in their gossip. And boy, did they love their gossip. Who was dating whom? Why was Eric's office door closed? Who's the new lady downstairs in accounting? Did Sandra get a boob job?

Eric's floor was home to his organization's marketing and communications team. Forty people — mostly 30-something women who wore skirts and dresses — executed the communication and marketing efforts for one of the state's largest school districts. It also meant the people on the team knew most of the dirty secrets in the organization. It was a perfect marriage of work and gossip for the information vultures that made up the office. He kind of loved it.

"If they only knew," he often thought to himself, snapping a glance at the closed blinds that kept prying eyes from peering into his office from the sometimes-chaotic outside work space.

The pecking order was simple. Eric, a vice president, is in charge of communications. Things like press releases, and newsletters, and photography and video — those were more his domain. Katy, his uptight colleague is also a vice president — she leads the marketing team. Brochures and pamphlets and events at the schools were her happy-place. Jim is executive director of it all. The rest of the team is made tacticians — the worker bees who did the tasks Eric and the others dreamed up — and secretaries. Forty staff. Five men. Endless daydreaming.

The fourth floor is the penthouse of the office building. Eric, Katy and Jim each have corner offices. And while there are plenty of windows lining the walls, Eric preferred watching the world from that skylight in the roof. He likes to lean back in his office chair, his spine melting into the fabric of its back, and daydream.

Today, in spite of the downpour outside, he wasn't thinking about the weather. He was fantasizing about Veronica's sheer, black thigh-highs. The ones he caught a glimpse of in the elevator this morning. Her black pencil skirt was riding a little higher than she realized, he figured, as she thumbed through the files that were in her arm. To his delight, he could make out the top of the stockings and the garter clip holding them up.

It was just the two of them in the sterile, steel elevator. It smelled like grease, and it was a bit humid inside thanks to the deluge outside. He barely noticed all of that, though. A flash in his mind's eye of her skirt hiked up and bent over in front of him tore into his thoughts. He could almost feel his stiff cock easily sliding into her tight, wet pussy. Eric gently shook his head, cobwebs falling away, coming back to reality.

Veronica's white, button-up blouse wasn't intentionally revealing, but as Eric slyly looked up and down the length of her body, he spied a tantalizing amount of cleavage as her C-cup breasts were spilling out of her black, lace bra, just visible because top two buttons of her blouse were undone.

He took a deep, but quiet breath as his cock stirred in his black dress pants. He wanted to make conversation, but choked on the words.

As Veronica continued to sift through 20-or-so manila folders in her arm, her curvy five-foot-eight body stood atop a pair of black, open-toed four-inch high heels. Her stocking-clad toenails peeking out the front. Her blonde hair was up in a cute pony tail, but a strand had fallen out near the top and was now draped lightly across her face. She was pretty, with just enough eye shadow to make her blue eyes pop.

Suddenly the elevator lurched to halt and Veronica looked up, half startled. Eric was too, and their eyes met. He suddenly felt like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He was undressing her with his mind, after all, and he felt like she knew it. She sheepishly bit her bottom lip, looked down, and with her free hand, tugged her skirt down an inch or two.

As she looked back up, Veronica flashed a smile, Eric did the same, and she glided out of the elevator. Eric watched. The red bottoms of her heels flashed with each step, her skirt clinging to her legs as she walked, its slit, which ran down its center-back offering a better glimpse of her long, sexy legs as she walked.

Eric was hard as a Goddamned rock.

Just as the heavy metal doors were closing, Veronica turned on a dime to face the elevator, her pony tail whipping as she rotated. Her eyes again met Eric's. This time she flashed him a wink as the doors closed.

"Holy fuck," he mumbled to himself, now alone in the elevator. Thigh high stockings — they were Eric's thing. His instant turn-on. Like they are for plenty of men. Veronica's skirt — the way it hugged her hips and accentuated her curves — was also his thing. The black lace bra, open-toed, black heels — it's like Veronica knew the exact outfit that would cater to every nook and cranny of his array of perverse sexual fantasies. It wasn't inappropriate or slutty, her outfit. It's what made it so hot, he thought.

And the wink? "What the hell was that about?" Eric thought to himself as the elevator again lurched to a halt and opened to his floor, his stiff cock pressing against is dress pants. "Fucking hot," he thought to himself.

---

As the elevator doors slid shut, Veronica let out a deep breath. She felt as though she had been holding it since she saw Eric in the elevator. She had more or less been thinking of that kind of moment for the past few weeks. A smile crossed her face, and she turned away from the elevator and headed back toward her work station.

As she did, she passed Vicki, the grey-haired department secretary. Vicki was sitting on a stool, not a desk chair, and her cubicle had a half-wall she sat behind. On top of the half-wall was a six-inch wide shelf with business cards, a few brochures, and a service bell. A large sign that read "Accounting" hung from the shelf. The stool allowed Vicki to sit higher so she could watch everyone coming out of the elevator, and judge people as they came to her to be whisked away to appointments or meetings within the department.

As Veronica approached, Vicki was giving her the kind of resting bitch face people only read about in glossy magazines.

"Got a button there," Vicki said, bobbing her head in the general direction of Veronica's chest, clearly pointing out what she deemed to be its inappropriateness. Her lips were smacking with each chomp of the massive piece of gum in her mouth.

Veronica looked down, took note of her shirt buttons, and shrugged.

"Well look at that," she said, looking back up to Vicki. "What would I do without you?" She flashed a fake smile and walked past.

"Psycho," Veronica said under her breath when out of earshot.

She entered a wide hallway between cubicles, and after passing three, turned left into her space. It was a painfully boring grey cube, which was buttressed on one side by an even more boring taupe wall. She slid into her chair and crossed her legs. She loved the feeling of her silky stocking-clad legs rubbing together. She was never one to wear pantyhose, much less stockings, so the texture made her feel sexy. Which was the goal, after all — to feel sexy and look sexy.

Veronica sighed and a wave rushed over her as the excitement of the elevator began to wear off. She stared into her computer screen, more or less looking through it, and revisited the past 10 minutes in her mind.

She had deliberately arrived to work earlier than normal, went up to her third floor work area and grabbed a few files, then went down to the first floor to wait. There was a small station for filing and stapling, and from that vantage point, which was near a set of windows that overlooked the attached parking garage, she could see when people were about to enter the building.

She was waiting for Eric.

When he began walking up, her heart fluttered. Eric was tall, something Veronica had always found sexy. He's six-foot-nine with an average body — muscular with a little padding. Many of the women in the office find him funny and attractive. He has sandy blonde hair, piercing blue-grey eyes, full lips and a scruffy two-day beard. He hated to shave, he told her once.

They've been known each other professionally for two years, and they've chatted casually hundreds of times. About her dog, her interest in hockey, her annual trips to Mexico with girlfriends. She talked about herself a lot, she suddenly realized. But they talked, too, about his love of Caribbean beaches, basketball, and of course, his height.

Eric pulled the heavy glass door and strode through. From his angle, he couldn't really see Veronica, so he didn't notice her. He hit elevator button with a big up arrow and it began to glow. Veronica grabbed her files in one arm, and with the other shimmied her skirt up an inch, barely exposing the tops of her thigh-highs. A devilish smile cracked the corner of her mouth, and she walked toward the elevator.

As it opened, Eric strode through, then Veronica. She played it cool, and never looked up from her files. She was trying to act busy. She hit the button for the third floor, then Eric hit the button for the fourth.

The elevator moved.

Veronica glanced up to Eric, and noticed him studying her, like he was to entranced to make conversation. He sighed, and she looked back down to her files before he noticed her peeking. She loved the feeling of his eyes undressing her. It made her feel wanted and desired. She suddenly realized a wetness forming between her legs. Her nipples hardened with excitement.

As the elevator lurched to a stop, Veronica looked up to him. Their gaze met. She smiled, and deliberately bit the bottom of her lip. "Men liked that, right?" she thought. She then glanced down and shimmied her skirt back down an inch. She desperately hoped he had liked the show. She looked back up, and strode out of the elevator. The look on Eric's face was exactly what she had been hoping for.

Three steps out, she turned on her heel and met Eric's eyes as the door was closing. She winked at him as the doors closed, his hard cock clearly visible pressed against the fabric of his black pants.

As the daydream passed, she sat up a bit straighter at her desk.

"A wink? Really?" she thought to herself. "That was lame."

---

Now in his office chair, some two hours later, his door closed, Eric was peering up at the skylight thinking about Veronica, the 30-something accountant who worked on the floor below.

He closed his eyes. Suddenly, there was a knock on his office door. He was annoyed, and realized he was gripping his hard cock over the top of his pants. All seven inches of it was throbbing.

Eric readjusted in his seat and tugged at the bottom of his blue button-down shirt to straighten it. "Come in," he said, as friendly as he could.

The wooden door opened and Veronica walked in. Eric was shocked. "Fuck," he screamed in his head.

Blushing, he sat up straight and slid under his desk so he could hide his raging hard-on. The hard-on he had for her.

As she crossed the threshold of his office, Eric could swear she was puffing out her chest slightly to accentuate her tits. The middle button on her blouse was straining to hold. She was, of course. But he didn't know that. She glided into the office, and shut the heavy door behind her.

Eric gulped. "What. The. Fuck?" he thought to himself in a state of disbelief.

Without a word, Veronica turned right and inspected the set of windows that faced the inside of the office area. The blinds were closed. As was normal, nobody could see in. Rarely did Eric have them open. The gossip hounds didn't need further discussion topics.

Veronica faced Eric. Their eyes met. She walked toward him, and without looking away, took the chair in front of Eric's desk and sat down. She then crossed her legs, and smiled.

The stockings, heels, skirt, blouse, pony tail — this woman was exquisite, Eric thought.

She was thinking the same thing. His two day scruff, his blue shirt making his eyes pop, combined with the secret she knew — this man was incredible, Veronica thought.

"What can I do for you?" Eric asked. She was insanely sexy, he thought, but he played it cool. Suddenly a pang of anxiety hit him — he was genuinely confused as to why she was in his office.

"I hope you liked the show earlier," she said, smiling, playfully toying with the hem of her skirt with her hand.

"The show?" Eric asked. He's no dummy, but this situation was too good to be true, he thought.

"The elevator." She grinned. She could tell he was playing dumb.

"Look, I'm here because I need to talk to you about something." She had a warm smile. "Don't look so worried. It's not a bad thing."

A strange wave of relief washed over Eric, but he wasn't sure why. He realized his heart was racing. His dick was swollen and he couldn't do anything about it. This woman was quite suddenly a walking fantasy for him, he thought. His fingers tingled.

Eric realized he had never really thought of her like this before. How was that possible. Veronica was gorgeous, and while that may have had something to do with how she looked in this setting, for the first time, he realized her natural beauty.

Veronica studied Eric a moment. She was nervous. She had thought about having this conversation since she had made her discovery, and desperately wanted it to play out right.

"I'll get to the point." She adjusted in her seat. The wetness between her legs was profound and she suddenly worried she would leave a wet spot on his chair.

"So, I think you have a secret," Veronica said after a long pause. "And I think I figured it out." She studied him again.

Eric was dumbstruck. "What?" he blurted out. "A secret? I don't know what you mean." He was serious.

Veronica adjusted in her seat, still nervous. "Get to the point, V," she thought to herself.

"So, I like to read. I'm a reader. And I read lots of things," she said. As she said it, her hand again fiddled with the hem of her skirt. She tugged at it, clearly nervous. Eric felt nervous too. She inched her skirt up just slightly. Fuck, he thought.

"And some of the things I read get pretty ... risqué."

"Okay," Eric said, a lump now in his throat. Eric did have a secret. An interesting one. He's a writer, after all. Outside of his day job, he writes life-based erotica. From sexual conquests he's had, to the sexual fantasies and scenarios he'd like to experience, to kinky taboo shit that would freak normal people out — Eric writes about it. He enjoys it, and he's good at it. He likes the anonymous attention he gets and the fantasies he gets to play out with vivid detail in his mind. Plus, it's relatively innocent and safe. Until now, he thought.

Another pause. Eric wasn't going to fill it with his words. This was on her, he thought.

"I think we enjoy the same, uhm, sites. The same stories," Veronica said hesitantly. "And if I'm wrong, I'll leave, but if I'm right, well — we have some things in common, and I wanted you to know that."

Eric just blinked at her. But while he did, a wave of arousal hit him. His cock twitched in his pants, adrenaline spurting through his veins. His heart raced and he was excited. It now made sense to Eric — Veronica wore her outfit because it's the same outfit he described in a three-year-old sexual fantasy he wrote about and posted to the web. She was dressed exactly like the woman in that story, a story that happened to be a about an office fling. Life-based erotica. "No fucking way," he thought.

Eric suddenly became much more confident. He stood up, and walked to the door.

And he was right. Veronica had picked this particular outfit based on that story, one she figured he'd described because he liked it.

"How did you come to this conclusion?" Eric asked. As he reached the door, he locked it. "Like, why do you think we enjoy the same ... sites, as you put it?"

"Well, about a month ago, I was reading this short story about a man and his secretary at work. It was quite hot, really. Anyway, the office that was described in the story — if it wasn't this building, right down to the buttons on the copy machine they fucked on, and where it is on this very floor — well I'd be shocked," she said.

Eric flashed a smile.

"So I read another story. Same author. Same office — I like the office stories, you know. Well it was quite descriptive. School district office. Communications. The floor the story took place on. The office locations. It was this building. Finally I checked out the author profile," she giggled.

"E-W-bball-69. Your initials. Basketball. Your height. Er, whatever number you wanted it to be."

"Fuck if she hadn't caught me," Eric thought to himself.

"Double-entendre," he said with a wry smile. "Sixty-nine."

Eric walked back toward his desk, never breaking eye contact with Veronica. As he passed her, he was certain she was as wet as he was hard, and her musk was wafting out of her skirt. He sat back down in his desk chair and leaned back. A long pause as they both looked at each other, studying.

"Well you've caught me," he said wickedly. "I can't really believe it, but here we are."

"Indeed. Here we are."

"So what do you want, Veronica?" he asked, mind racing. "I like to write about this stuff. So what?"

"I'll cut straight to the point here. The stories are hot, but realizing I knew the author of them — that was incredibly fucking hot. Basically, since I put it together that you were writing them, I haven't been able to shake it. I guess I decided to try to take a bite of the apple."

Eric was astounded. Horny as fuck, but astounded. This was the shit of fantasy, pure and simple. Not real life.

"I ... I don't ... really?" he stammered. "You're serious?" he asked, more rhetorically than anything, left eyebrow slightly raised.

"Sounds slutty?" she replied.

"I wouldn't say that," Eric said. "It's just that this isn't the kind of thing that happens in real life — a fantasy come to life."

"Women have fantasies, too," she said as she uncrossed her legs and stood up. "Interested?"

Without hesitation: "Yes. I am."

"Good." She knew that this was her responsibility. She was going to lead. It wouldn't always be this way, she hoped. But this was really happening, and the shock of it all was a lot, she figured, and wasn't going to ask Eric to lead the band.

Veronica took a deep breath to gather herself and then walked around the desk to where Eric was sitting, and wedged herself between him and his desk, and sat down on it. As she shimmied her way into a better position, she tugged and raised her skirt, showing the top of her stockings. She then raised her right foot up and placed her high heel onto the arm of his chair.

Eric could now see most of Veronica's long legs, up her skirt, and her glistening pussy. It was soaking wet, and uncovered — she wasn't wearing panties.

His eyes bulged, as did his cock. He loved how direct she was being.

She placed her other foot on the other arm of his chair, then looked down at Eric and smiled.

Eric didn't need instructions. These two co-workers were about to live out a mutual, office-place sex fantasy.

EWbball69
EWbball69
17 Followers
12