Making a Cubicle Tolerable

It was a good gig for a 21-year-old. I was working for a small town newspaper and radio station (multi-media was a big deal to the owner of the corporation). There were some drawbacks. Watching and doing play-by-play on girls high school basketball in northern Ohio was especially mind-numbing.

Sure, there were some who were easy on the eyes -- but I was 21 and already too old and mature for teenage couplings.

And it was always an interesting challenge to broadcast the game, then somehow figure out a good way to take photographs. Talk about multitasking.

For the most part, I'd figured it out. Every game, my broadcast cohort, a thicker girl named Rachel, would do play-by-play for five minutes while I used my Canon for some action shots. Other than that, though, I'd take a few photographs from our vantage point in the media section.

There was a girl named Ginger who worked as a trainer. To my knowledge, she'd graduated from the school and was an assistant coach of some kind. She didn't impart much knowledge to the girls team, but she did scream at them a lot. I figured she was my age. Maybe a year younger, but surely a junior in college.

Toward the end of the season, Ginger started flirting with me. Never very obvious, nor did I care too much. Lots of girls flirted with me. But she caught my eye. Maybe because, in the middle of a gym of hundreds, she discretely flashed her breasts at me while I was taking a photograph.

She was, in concept, wiping up some sweat on the gym floor while I focused my camera on some cheerleaders showing off a routine (small town newspapers love cheerleader shots). As I was turning the lense, Ginger looked at me and bent over, her loose top exposing her young breasts barely captured by her bra. She looked up, gave me a wink, and than grabbed her shirt to her chest -- as if shocked and embarrassed that such a thing could happen to her in front of so many people.

Yeah, I thought to myself, I'm going to have to fuck her. Tonight.

After the game, I was helping Rachel load up our broadcast equipment into her car. As I tossed the microphones into her front seat, I looked to see Ginger walking by us in the parking lot.

"See you tomorrow," I told Rachel I shut the car door and started heading toward my own.

I quickened the pace of my walk slightly until I noticed Ginger was slowing hers'.

"Nice night," I said.

"It's great," Ginger noted.

"On these nights, I can really go for some ice cream."

"I love ice cream."

"Want to head over to the DQ for some?" I said. To fuck her meant I'd have to at least be polite beforehand. I mean, I probably could have said "Want to fuck?" but that's not quite the guy I am, nor is it known for its effectiveness.

"God, I'd love to," she said.

We met and I looked her up and down as she ordered. She had long, wavy red hair with some freckles. Her eyes were a dark almond and her lips pink under some silky gloss. Her skin was ivory, seemingly fragile. Ginger's breasts were by no means large, but they were full -- her cleavage barely hiding underneath her white shirt and bra.

She asked me what had led me to the small town, and what my future goals were. I almost said "To fuck you," but I figured she meant longer term. She was funny and quick to smile. And I have a feeling, had I asked her of her goals, fucking me was among her next plans.

The vanilla ice cream was licked off her spoon and swirled along her tongue and lips. She didn't hesitate about it. The implications were obvious. The only questions were the where and when. Well, and the how -- but that's a decision made in the moment.

Now, I worked in a small suburb outside a big city. The newspaper was an afternoon publication, which meant nobody was there after 8 p.m. And it was well-past 9:30.

"Listen," I said, "I'd love to take this elsewhere. But I need to drop off my camera at the office."

"Oh," she responded, "I'd love to see your office."

Sure, see the office. I don't care, I thought. I hadn't figured out if she lived in town or if she attended college at a nearby commuter school, but at least getting done with the ice cream gets her closer to her cream, and scream.

We entered the office, dark as I suspected it would be. The only lights came off red security lamps that were in evening mode. Ginger followed me in, and as I locked the door behind me, she slapped my ass cautiously.

"And what did I do to deserve that?" I questioned.

"You looked at my breasts while I was on the court."

"You showed off your breasts to me," I countered as I walked back non-chantantly to my cubicle.

"Oh yeah," she giggled, her body being washed in the new light coming from my computer screen. I pulled her close to me in a motion that made her gasp quickly, my hand on the small of her back, my little finger touching the base of her spine.

My nose sliding along hers -- our eyes open as we kissed. Her lips were lucious, like I thought they'd be. We engaged passionately with our tongues, mashing together as she pulled at my waist. I touched her skin underneath her shirt and my hand reached down to the lining of her skirt.

Get your wits, boy, I thought. You're in your cubicle. This is surely not appropriate.

She sat up on my desk, pulling her skirt past her heart-designed panties and pulling her shirt over her breasts, exposing her bra again to me.

Fuck appropriate, I decided, as my mouth kissed her neck, my tongue tracing down to the lace of her bra, licking slowly till I reached her dime-sized nipple and started to suck. My fingers had found their own treasures as one hand grasped her ass and the other began massaging her clit. I looked up to her as she arched her back in pleasure. I kicked my chair under me and sat down in it as I kissed her breasts, pulling her bra over to expose her body to me. She was in shambles, clothing wise, and as my fingers began sliding into her pussy, she gritted her teeth indicating she was also falling to pieces in the erotic.

I buried two fingers into her pussy as my mouth explored downward, sliding the fabric of her panties to the side so I could begin licking her passion and suck against her clit. Her hands pressed against the top of my desk, fingers outstretched as if holding herself up against a wall. I loved the figure in the light, her breasts rose against the darkness and her mouth panted just outside the shadows.

I sucked on her clit more, looking up at the clock and enjoying her taste for five minutes as I twirled my tongue in circles against her. I never know if a woman is going to love or fear oral -- so five minutes is a good indicator. If she is wigged out by receiving oral (which far too many women are), than I'm going to make her cum in other ways.

But five minutes into it, Ginny was writhing in pleasure and whispering...

"Oh, god. God damn. Oh, fuck. Right there! Oh... god. I'm going to cum. Suck my clit, faster....mmmmm, babe"

And I do as I told. At least when there is a clit in my mouth.

My fingers slide back inside her wetness and I felt her body tense as she exploded. She screamed loudly twice, breaking into echoes in the newsroom... and I slowly stopped sucking as I enjoyed her orgasm and licked her clean.

Okay, I told myself, that wasn't appropriate. But it's time to take this elsewhere. I kissed up to her belly and back across her breasts, kissing her ears and lips. My cock was hard inside my Dockers, and I was ready to go back to her place -- if she'd have me. Her hand reached down for hardness as I looked down at her eyes.

She unbuttoned my pants and unzipped my zipper, her hand reaching down to pump my erection slowly.

Get your wits, boy. You're in this cubicle. This is surely not appropriate.

"Fuck me," she said.

Fuck appropriate.

As I stood up fully from the chair, she palmed my erection and balls in her hand.

"Nice," she said, spreading her legs and pulling her panties as far to the side of her pussy as possible. I slapped it against her clit, running the head of my cock against her skin and placed it at her pussy -- slowly sliding inside.

"MMM...god," she whispered.

My thoughts exactly. I began the impalement of Ginger, looking around at my office and knowing that -- while nobody was supposed to be in here -- it was an office. At any moment, my boss or coworkers could walk in.

And with her tight silk pulling in my hardness, I didn't care at all. I spread her legs and began pounding hard and fast, my balls hitting the side of my desk as we fucked. It was painful, but the good kind. I pulled her close to me, my shirt bunching up against her breasts as I kissed her neck and breathed against her ear.

"Sit on the chair," she said. I leaned back, and she turned herself around, guiding herself down onto my cock as my hand reached up and groped her breasts. The chair squeaked with the abuse the thrusting was giving it -- and I wondered if it may break in the passion. My cock was swelling inside her as she screamed again. Three of her fingers were on my cock as it slide outside of her, slick with her juices.

"Oh, god," she announced, "I'm cumming again."

"Cum all over my cock," I growled, grinding up inside her as my lips reached back against her neck, her red hair against my cheek. Her body pulsated over mine and she crested a second time.

I was near the point of no return. I pushed her back onto my desktop and laid her on her side as I pounded into her -- and then turned her around onto her back again. Our fingers gasped one another as I pounded into her. I had to cum. But I couldn't cum in her. But I had to cum. I fucked her harder and harder, announcing how close I am.

"On my belly," she said. "On my belly."

As my sperm was jetting through my cock, I pulled out of her and began cumming all over her. Her belly, her breasts. I helped ruin her perfectly nice bra and skirt as I screamed in pleasure.

"Oh, god. Yes. God damn. MMM," I grunted. The cumshot ricochet off her body and dripped onto desk calendar -- the month and year below her ass. I laughed as I kissed her lips.

"I'm going to need a new desk calendar," I said.

She moaned in agreement as I pulled her back onto of me to kiss her slowly. She took off one of her socks to help clean the cum off her skin and threw it in my bosses garbage can. We kissed for a little while and she began joking about how long she'd had a crush on me.

"Since my senior year, when you first got here," she said.

Cool. I didn't know she was older than me, but I enjoyed the idea that we could have some things in common other than the sex.

"So what are you doing now that you've graduated?" I asked.

"Oh, I am taking some time off. I want to start college next semester," she mentioned.

My eye perked up. "College?"

"Yes. I just graduated from high school in June."

A bit of my world began collapsing. She was a bit younger than I'd anticipated.

"How old are you?" I asked.

"Oh, well, yesterday was my birthday."

Cool, I thought. At least she's 19 or 20.

"You're my 18th birthday present to myself," she smiled.

"Excuse me," I smirked, not quite understanding.

"Well, two days ago, I said I was going to fuck you before I turned 19."

I rubbed my head a bit not quite believing the situation. She was 18 ... but barely.

"Yeah, well. I like how things have worked out," as I kissed her neck and rubbed her nipples with my thumbs. "So, do you have an apartment in town?"

"No," Ginger explained. "I still live at home. You need to come by there sometime and fuck me after my parents leave for work in the morning. That's where I've been doing most of my masturbating with you on my mind."

And, against my better angels, I was there the next morning before going back to work. After more fucking, I went into the office, looking at my cubicle in a whole different light. And hoping nobody would wonder what happened to several months of my desk calendar.