In the Hallway


Janna felt a warmth over her body as she looked at the words on her phone. He was being bossy to ask her to take a hot photo of herself. And she liked it. He was a little bossy. But not too much, and not in a crude way. Hot, she thought, what would that mean? She did not usually think of herself as hot. How would she do this? Her mind swept quickly over a lot of possibilities. A face shot? Hmmm. Too tame. And she did not want a photo of herself with duck lips. Too cliché. A shot of her cleavage? Too bold for a first photo. She looked down over her figure seated in her office swivel chair. Her legs looked lean and firm, but with soft clear skin uncovered by any hosiery. She knew she had nice legs. That was it. She would take a photo of her legs.

She raised her left heel, put it against the edge of her desk, and pushed her swivel chair back. Then she propped both her feet on the top of the desk. With the phone held just right the picture would capture the black hem of her skirt, a few inches of each thigh, and the entirety of her toned, shapely calves, thin ankles, and feet in black heels perched suggestively on her desk. She looked good, she thought. But she could make the photo just a bit hotter. With her right hand, she reached down and pulled the hem of her skirt up another two inches. The skirt already was short by her standards, so the effect was, to her eye, dramatic. She parted her legs a few inches as well.

Now, that's hot, she thought. She snapped the photo, looked it over for a moment, decided the exposure and color and resolution were fine, and sent it to her new bossy friend Tom.

Tom, who was hunched over his desk at his cubicle, saw the photo appear in the text thread. He opened it. He remembered Janna had had nice legs in the hallway, but damn, this was hot. Extremely hot. The legs looked long and perfectly curved, and the gap between her exposed thighs where they met the hem of her short skirt drove him crazy. To feel his hands on those legs, running them up her smooth calves, past the knees, along her inner thighs up to and under her skirt . . . he wanted that.

But he needed to pause to think what to do next. His thoughts were jumbled and he was not sure how to respond.

"That is hot," he texted. "No doubt about it. You have the most beautiful legs in the building."

"Why, thank you, sir," she replied. "Are you an expert on the legs in the building?"

He grinned at that. "Sir?" This was going too well. Whatever he was casting, she was biting.

He mulled over his next response - it had to be good after the photo she had just sent and her calling him "Sir."

"No, I'm not an expert," he texted. "Just attentive. And your legs definitely demand more attention than the others."

All the texting about her legs was making Janna feel self-conscious. But still, she liked it.

"I appreciate the attention," she replied.

Tom was thinking about how to reply to that when suddenly he was interrupted.

It was Carlos, his manager. "Tom, do you have a minute to help Tyler? He's working with a new client, an auto shop owner over on Washington Avenue, and he doesn't understand the coverage terms well enough to explain them to the guy. I know you know the terms. Can you give him a hand? Shouldn't take long."

Tom put on his best happy office worker face, which he knew was unconvincing. "Sure, Carlos. I've got time. I can do that. No problem."

Damn. Knowing Tyler, as he did, it probably would take more time than Carlos thought it would. Tyler was as dumb as rocks, and not smart rocks, at that. He had only been working in the office for a few weeks, he was at the extremely low end of the learning curve, and it was evident he was in no hurry to climb it.

Tom did not want to break off from texting Janna. What if she gets cold feet during the break? he thought. But there was nothing he could do. He replied to her last message.

"Good girl. I want to keep this conversation going. But I need to do something in the office." He looked up at the clock. "I will text you again at 1 p.m." He paused and added one more thing. "Make sure you are available to respond at that time." He almost started the sentence with "please" but thought better of it.

He looked at the time on his phone. 1 p.m. was an hour away. That should give him plenty of time to deal with Tyler and then think of his next move with Janna. He got up and headed across the office to Tyler's cubicle.

Janna looked at Tom's last message. Part of her was annoyed that he had broken off their texting. She had been having fun. But part of her was relieved. This was going fast, and she did not know where it was going, and she did not know where she wanted it to go.

She did not even know this guy, and she had already texted him a photo of her exposed legs and called him "Sir."

She had an hour. That should work. She could get a few projects done and clear that time for what was next. Whatever it was. But first, she needed to get some information about the bossy text partner that was getting her so excited.

She did not know Tom's last name, but she knew the name of the firm he worked at it. Her fingers tapped out the name on her keyboard and she entered it in the search box on her computer screen: "Dunwoodie Booth." A list of results flooded the screen. She picked the top result, taking her to the firm's web page. She looked for his name and found it under the heading "Agents."

"Tom Allenrood." She looked at his page. Yes, it was he. It was a nice portrait photo, and it looked recent, though it was touched up and glossed so it was difficult to tell. She scanned his job description and credentials. He seemed like a solid guy. He was real, anyway.

Next, she looked up his ratings on Yelp, and more on his work history on his LinkedIn page. She felt a pang of guilt. It was intrusive of her to get all this information about Tom. On the other hand, this was all public information, and he had put it out there for everyone to see. Plus, everybody did this. And she had done it many times before for previous dates.

She looked at his Facebook page. He had five more friends than she did. So, he had friends. That was good. He was not a hermit, or a recluse. He seemed to have a social life. His relationship status was single, and there were no photos of a girlfriend clinging to him. That was good, too.

She felt better. Her new text buddy was, from all she could see, a normal, solid guy. Probably not a serial killer, although, one never really knew, right? But she felt confident and comfortable enough about him that she knew she would keep her 1 o'clock appointment with him, and see what happened. She felt a tingle of anticipation. She knew he was going to tell her to do something again. What would she submit to next? She had no idea where this might go, what direction he might take this, and she liked that. She looked forward to the next thing he would tell her to do. She had not said no to him yet, and she was enjoying herself.

But for the time being she had to get some work done. Texting would have to wait. For another half hour, anyway.

She closed his Facebook page on her computer and opened the file of a new client for which she recently had started working.

5. Give and Take.

Five minutes later, on the other side of the building, Tom finally escaped from Tyler's cubicle. It had been less painful than he expected to try to explain five personal property coverage exceptions to the dim-witted Tyler, although Tom's task had been made notably more difficult by the images of Janna's lean, lissome legs running nonstop through his head. He wanted to see more of that. Or maybe something else.

He sat down at his desk and opened a client document on his computer screen. He wanted to look busy so he would not be interrupted. He had to think of his next moves very carefully. This girl seemed interested. She barely knew him, but she had sent him a photo of her legs with her skirt hiked up, and she had called him "Sir"! She was hot, too. When he had first seen her in the hallway, he might not have used the word "hot" to describe her. She was pretty, and she had a nice figure, but she seemed a little too buttoned-down and contained to be called "hot." Well, don't judge a book until the cover's off, he thought. She was hot, all right. And he needed to see more of Janna. A lot more.

He spent a few minutes thinking about what to do.

Then he spent a few more minutes.

Don't ask - tell! He would give it a try. And see where it went. This girl was worth the effort.

After a few minutes of thinking he came up with a plan. It was a bold plan. He was not sure she would be willing to comply, despite how compliant she had been so far. But he thought she might, and he knew he wanted her to. To put the plan into action, he had to leave his office briefly and do something. He got up from his desk. A few minutes later he returned. He thought some more, and then the time appeared on his computer screen clock.

1:00 p.m.

It was time to send the next text.

Janna was sitting at her desk, tapping her pencil lightly against the fake wood, when the ping sounded. She picked up her phone and looked at it. A new text message awaited her.

"Hello, Janna."

"Hi, Tom."

"I prefer to be called 'Sir' for the moment. I'd like you to do that."

There he was, being bossy again, thought Janna. But she was having fun playing the game.

"O.K. Hi, Sir."

"Good girl. I enjoy you and I enjoy our chat. I think you do too. You said sometimes you like bossy, and I think this is one of those times. So, I'm going to keep being bossy with you. I have something I want you to do. I think you will enjoy it, and I know I will."

Janna wondered what was coming. There was only one way to find out.

"Tell me what you want," she texted.

"Get up from your desk and walk to the main foyer of the building now," he texted back. "Go right now, and when you get there wait for me."

Janna looked up from her desk and looked around. No one was approaching her. Projects could wait. "What now?" she wondered. Her body was warm with excitement. She eagerly awaited the next instruction. She was thoroughly enjoying this game, knowing this man she barely knew was going to tell her to do something, probably something a little sexy. She also looked forward to seeing him again. Even though she had not seen him in over an hour, and had only seen him up close only once in person, in her mind he was growing more attractive. With quick steps, she traversed the distance between her firm's office and the main entrance area of the building.

The foyer was an open area precisely in the middle of the building, with a ceiling two stories high, and wall to wall glass doors and windows from which one could see out to the parking lots on either side. A few large nondescript pieces of modern art hung on the wood-paneled walls. Heavy fake leather chairs were set against the walls and in little clusters out on the floor.

Janna looked around. Tom was not in sight. The foyer was empty. Janna was disappointed. She wanted to see him.

She heard the ping of the incoming text and looked down. "Go toward the east entrance and turn right toward the chair closest to the entrance. You will see something."

"Why aren't you here"" She texted back at him.

"Just do as I say," he texted back. "Let me know when you have done so and text me what you see."

She paused and then complied. Even though there was no one around she felt very self-conscious and exposed by the glass all around her. But there was no one to see her. She turned to her right. A tall thin white bag was propped up against the chair. She walked toward it.

"I see a white bag next to the chair," she texted to him.

"Open it up and take what's in it."

She did so. A single, long-stem, salmon rose lay inside. She took it out.

"It's beautiful," she texted. "Is it for me?"

"Of course," he texted back.

Janna could not remember the last time someone had bought her flowers - even a single flower. It was an unusual color - not quite red, not quite pink, not quite orange, but some of all three tones. She tried to recall what each rose color meant. She was uncertain but she thought that a salmon rose was intended to convey excitement. If so, it did the trick. The skin of her face felt a little flushed. She was aware of her chest rising and falling with her breaths. She looked out the window and in the glass caught the faint reflection of a pretty brunette in a short skirt, holding a rose in one hand and a cell phone in the other.

"Thank you, sir!" She texted back.

"You are welcome, Janna," he replied. "Now I want you to give me something."

"What?" she texted back. Now for the interesting part, she thought.

"Place your flower on the chair and then text 'OK' when you've done that."

She did so. "OK," she texted.

"Good girl. Now take your panties off, and leave them on the floor at your feet, and text me when you have done so."

What? she thought. She could not do that. Janna was not a prude, but she was not an exhibitionist either. Suddenly, even though she had not taken anything off yet, she felt twice as exposed as before. The glass windows and doors seemed bigger than ever, the foyer more cavernous. She was aware of the headlights of the cars in the parking lots on either side, row on row, like eyes that were watching her. Standing where she was, she felt exposed on all sides.

She had expected to meet Tom here in the building foyer, and perhaps continue their banter in person. She had not expected this.

"I can't do that!" she texted back.

Tom replied quickly, borrowing words and phrases and ideas he had gathered from the website he had visited the night before. He was winging it, but he wanted to keep up the fragile appearance of mastery and control. Though he could not see what Janna was doing, and barely knew her, he could sense that despite her misgivings she was as eager to play this game as he was, but that he would have to play his role carefully. He could not be too aggressive with her. But he could not falter, either. Any hint of uncertainty or reluctance on his part would break the spell. She might give up the game. He pressed ahead as confidently as he could.

"Yes, you can. And you will. This is something you want to do, and I'm giving you the opportunity to do it. I know you know that. You want to submit. I'm letting you do that. Don't worry. I am discreet and I won't let anything bad happen. Think how I caught you in the hallway. You can trust me.

"Wait until there is no one around, and do it quickly. But don't move once you've done it. Be a good girl and do it and text me when you are done."

Janna's breathing quickened. She turned her head each direction to see if anyone might see her. There was no one. There was no movement in the parking lot on either side. She listened intently for the sound of footsteps approaching in either hallway. There was no sound. Could she do this? Her confused thoughts clarified. Just say yes, she thought. Just say yes.

She did not know why, but she was having too much fun to stop. She would do it.

Setting her phone on the chair, and quickly looking around one more time to see if anyone was coming, Janna reached both hands quickly under her short skirt and tugged at the thin fabric underneath. She looked back and forth toward the buildings entrances on either side, and side to side toward the hallways, to make sure no one was coming. So far, no one was. She squatted a bit to pull the panties off each leg, one at a time. She felt the tiny piece of fabric moving down and tickling the skin of her hips, then her thighs, then her calves, and then her ankles. Then the tiny baby-blue thong lay at her feet.

She turned her head back and forth looking in every direction for someone approaching. Squatting as she was in the short skirt, her bare sex was on display for anyone nearby to see. Thank goodness, no one was in sight.

She stood up. Without moving her feet, Janna leaned over to get the phone and texted back.

"Done," she texted.

She waited for his reply. Each second that passed was agonizingly slow. She was more conscious than ever that she was standing exposed in the foyer of an office building, with her pale blue thong on the floor at her feet. Anyone who saw her would see the thong as well and know that it was hers. A few interminable seconds later, he replied.

"Excellent. Take a photo of the panties at your feet and text it to me."

She snapped the photo. She rushed the photo, but it was clear enough. There was no question what it showed. She texted it to him.

Tom opened the photo on his phone. He was hunched over his phone at his cubicle so no one could see what he could see. He savored the sight of the lacy, baby-blue panties lying at Janna's feet. He could not believe this was going so well. A beautiful woman had just taken off her panties for him and at this very moment was standing over them in the foyer of his building. It was like a dream. But it was really happening.

"Very good, Janna," he texted. "Now take the flower and go back to your office. Leave the panties on the floor. I will text you again in a few minutes."

Janna looked at his text. She was trying to figure out how she would explain holding a single stem rose to her coworkers, and how she would handle walking around her office in a short skirt without panties. She was not sure how she would do it. But she decided to go along. She looked up and saw someone in the parking lot in front of her approaching the building entrance. She decided to leave quickly so whoever it was would not connect her with the panties on the floor. She walked back to her office.

Janna was keenly aware of the absence of panties under her short skirt. She felt the air on her bare skin. Despite her nervousness, she found herself reveling in the sensation. Janna had worn a skirt without panties before, but never at work.

Entering the office, she almost bumped into Megan Blumquat, the biggest gossip in the office. Shit, she thought, aware that she was holding the single stem rose in front of her.

"Well look at you!" called Megan. "Looks like Janna has an admirer. Who's the lucky guy, Janna?"

"Hi, uh, Megan," Janna stammered. She had to think of something quickly and get rid of Megan. She did.

"There was a guy outside the building near the side entrance with a bunch of these and he asked me if I wanted one, so I said yes. I think he might still be out there. You should check it out and see if he's still there," she added.

Megan's face lit up as though that was the greatest idea in the world. "I will!" she said, and was out the office door in a flash.

Thank goodness, thought Janna, as she scurried quickly back to her cubicle with the rose held down low at her side.

As she approached her desk her heart beat fast with excitement as she wondered what was coming next.

6. Stand and Deliver.

After saving the photo of Janna's panties to his phone, Tom quickly got up from his cubicle desk and exited the Dunwoodie office. He walked briskly the length of the hallway to the foyer. He turned toward the entrance where he thought Janna's panties would be.

He saw a middle-aged, balding man in a suit with a briefcase standing near the entrance looking at something on the floor. Tom approached and saw that the man was staring at the panties on the ground. He did not recognize the man, thank goodness.

The man looked up at him with arched eyebrows and a face that said, Guess what I've found?

Tom stepped forward quickly, bent over, picked up the panties, and tucked them away in his pants pocket.

"Those are mine," he said to the man.

The man smiled at him. "What's your secret?" he asked.

Tom paused and his eyes searched the ceiling for a moment for an answer. Then he looked back at the man.

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bySimonDoom© 19 comments/ 63084 views/ 70 favorites

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