Losing Control in the Office Ch. 01bytmz©
Thursday, October 9
I haven't kept a journal for around 30 years, but I'm very confused, and I need to write in order to make sense of today's events. Writing a story in my journal about each of my days used to help me a lot when I was in college, and I'm hoping that it will work for me now.
I thought it would be good when they promoted me last year to be in charge of Global IT, but boy, was I wrong! All I seem to do is go to boring meetings and deal with stupid corporate bullshit instead of managing software projects. Sometimes I hate this fucking job, but with the economy being what it is, it's going to be a pain in the ass finding something else right now.
However, there's one compensation: I have a private office with a door that locks, and I take advantage of that to view my porn each day. Usually, I masturbate in my office. In addition to the sexual pleasure this gives me, it's a good stress reliever and it helps my otherwise difficult days go by.
My porn consists of erotic videos, and I carry it with me on an encrypted memory stick on my keychain. Whenever I want to view it, I lock my office door, mount the memory stick, plug in my headphones, and view my videos directly from it. After doing that late this morning, I was in a state of unfulfilled sexual arousal when I went to lunch, because I was interrupted by a phone call before I brought myself to orgasm, and I didn't have time to continue once I ended the call, due to today's busy schedule.
I usually eat after the normal lunch hour when the cafeteria isn't too crowded. However, today I had a 1:00 PM meeting and had to go earlier than usual, right during the time when things are busiest. On days like today when I don't eat with my usual lunch companions, I prefer to sit alone and admire the more attractive women who make their way through the cafeteria. Luckily, I managed to grab the only empty two-seater table in the cafeteria. It was near the back, which gave me an excellent vantage point.
As I enjoyed both my meal and the view, a woman swept around me from behind and stood across the table from me, tray in hand.
"Hello Mr. Martin," she said with a noticeable accent, smiling. "May I sit here?"
She was a rather attractive young Latina who looked vaguely familiar to me. She seemed to be in her mid-twenties and was around 5'2" or 5'3", with long dark hair, dark eyes, a tan complexion, and extremely pretty features. She had the body type I love the most: petite with a slim waist, a round but proportionate ass, and small-to-medium-sized well-formed breasts. She must have been someone in my department, because I'm the only manager here who allows my personnel to wear "business casual" attire to work. This is supposed to consist of tastefully non-formal clothes, but this woman was definitely pushing it to the limit, with the ass-hugging pants she was wearing and her tight, button-down top of slightly see-through material that allowed a vague hint of her dark, skimpy bra to show through. Plus, she was standing in a pose that exuded an "I know I'm hot" attitude.
I normally don't fraternize with my employees, and especially not with a young, attractive woman, given that corporations these days are so concerned about sexual harassment and abuse-of-authority issues. However, I guess my judgment was impaired by my horniness after my unfulfilled masturbation and by the fact that this woman was so attractive. I thought it would be OK to allow her to sit with me as long as I acted formal, proper, and boss-like.
I made a show of looking around the crowded eating area and then said in a voice loud enough for any nearby snoops to hear, "Well, sure. I know how hard it is to find a seat at this hour in the cafeteria." I knew that probably sounded a little bit rude, but I had to behave that way in order to keep my public behavior above reproach.
"Thank you," she replied as she seated herself. "I do not know if you remember me, Sir. I started my work here almost three weeks ago. You spoke to us during the orientation. My name is Cristina Rodriguez. I work in the group of Network Operations." She extended her hand graciously.
Her English wasn't incorrect, but she spoke like someone who learned it in a foreign language class and who was less familiar with the normal rhythms of everyday speech. There was something about that which I found charming. Furthermore, I liked her formal politeness which seemed to be typical for many of the Hispanic people who work for me, especially those born in other countries. I took her hand in a polite manner and told her that I do recall seeing her there, not mentioning that I hadn't remembered her name. I asked her how she liked working here so far, and she replied with the usual platitudes that a new hire would normally say to the head of their department: that she liked the job and her boss, that the people she worked with were great, etc.
I gave polite responses, and then there was a period of silence while we ate. In maintaining my corporate role, I felt it was necessary for me not to lead the conversation with her, lest she think I was coming on to her. I have to be very careful about these things in my position. This was more difficult than usual for me, because I found Ms. Rodriguez to be extremely attractive, and coming on to her is exactly what I would have wanted to do if it wasn't such an inappropriate thing in this situation. Also, I was glad that there was a table between us, so that she couldn't see the erection that was already starting to grow in my pants as I admired her in front of me. I was already horny from my unfulfilled masturbation, and she was augmenting those feelings.
After a little while, she spoke again. "Sir, I hope you don't think that I came to this table only because there were not many places to sit. When I saw you here, I wanted to sit with you."
This caught me by surprise. I wouldn't have expected a beautiful young woman like her to want to seek out a man who was probably as old as her father. Of course, due to my concerns about corporate propriety, I had to hide my happiness and sexual excitement. "Oh? Really?" I replied, trying very hard to convey a tone of condescending but polite distance.
"Yes, Sir," she replied with a smile as she tossed her head to make her hair go back over her shoulder. "I know that you are the boss of the department of IT, and I have a question that I want to ask you."
The toss of her head sent sexual desire through me, but the subsequent realization that she was here for a work-related matter immediately killed that feeling. For a moment I felt a twinge of disappointment, because I had been entertaining the thought that she might have actually been interested in me as a man. But I silently reminded myself that I need to be realistic about such things, given how much older I am than she is. But also, I felt slightly relieved, because it now would be easier to maintain the proper corporate decorum given that her interest in talking to me had to do with her job.
"Oh, well I hope I can answer your question," I replied kindly and graciously, but still with some distance and formality.
"Thank you very much, Sir," she responded with a bright smile and some body language that conveyed gratitude and appreciation. The subtle motion of her body drew my attention to the way that the shape of her lovely breasts strained the buttons of her tightly fitting top. This caused a slight opening between the buttons nearest to her breasts, and I could see a tiny glimpse of her black bra. I found myself trying to imagine how she would look without her blouse and also with bare breasts, but then I caught myself and quickly withdrew my gaze from her chest. Another surge of desire went through me.
She was looking me in the eyes the whole time, but thankfully, she didn't react to the momentary shift of my gaze onto her chest. I hoped that meant that she wasn't paying attention to that. She continued, "What I would like to know, Sir, is how do you feel about the way I look in my clothes?"
"Excuse me?!" I blurted out, having been taken totally by surprise. This put me into a confused and conflicted state. First of all, this is not a proper subject in a corporate environment, especially between a male supervisor and a much younger female employee. Secondly, I was feeling very excited about how she looked, and it was frustrating to know that I couldn't tell her that. And finally, I was wondering whether this was some sort of come-on, or whether once again my wishful thinking was getting the better of me.
As I struggled for an appropriate answer, I just found myself babbling, "Um ... I'm not sure what you want to know ... I mean ... what do I feel? ... is this ..."
"Oh, I'm sorry, Sir," she said, cutting off my stammering response. "Excuse me for interrupting you. English is not my native language, and I know that sometimes I am not clear with the words that I say in your language. What I want to ask you is if you approve of how I look in my clothes."
This sounded no different in substance from the way she originally said it. "You want to know if I ... if I approve of ... of ... um ..."
She smiled again and gave another toss of her head which just served to add some more sexual arousal to the mix of confusing feelings I was experiencing. "I now can see that I am not saying this in a clear manner," she interrupted again. "I will try to explain it in a better way. In my country, the women we always want to be beautiful. Before I came here I used to work in a big company in Colombia, and in that place, we dress very beautifully, and the men there they want us to do that. This is how we are in my country. But when I came here I noticed that the women who work here and in other companies they want to dress in a more plain style. And some of the people they told me that my clothes are not appropriate for this company. But other people they told me that there is no problem with my clothes. I wanted to avoid this problem, and I decided to dress in more of a plain style, and now I am doing that."
If this is a "plain" style for her, I thought to myself, I can imagine how hot she looked before she made the change!
"But even in my plain clothes," she was continuing, "some people they tell me that it is still not appropriate, but other people they say that that there is no problem. I know that you are the boss of the department of IT, and that you make the policy for how your employees wear the clothes. That is why I ask you how you feel about the way I look in my clothes." She smiled and made another subtle move with her body which aroused me yet again.
Her explanation once again killed the idea that she might be coming on to me, but at least I now knew where her question was coming from.
"Oh, OK. Thank you for explaining, Ms. Rodriguez. So you're wanting to know about our dress code here."
"Yes, now I remember how you say this. 'Dress code'".
Even though I am allowed to talk about dress codes, I still had to choose my words very carefully. "OK," I replied. "Well ... um, as I'm sure I mentioned during orientation, our department doesn't have the same dress code as the rest of the company. Because we don't work in Marketing and don't normally deal with clients, I allow you all to wear business casual attire in the office ... as long as you aren't meeting any of the clients, of course. By 'business casual', I'm talking about nice, clean clothes that are tasteful but which aren't overly formal."
"Yes, Sir," she replied, giving me what maybe was a sly grin ... or was it? "I remember that you told this to us during the orientation. And when I came to work the next day, I did wear clothes that were not formal. I did not choose any of the dresses or matching outfits that I would wear to my work in Colombia. Instead of that I wore the same kind of casual blouses and skirts or pants that I like to wear when I go out with my friends, or when I go shopping. They are very clean and very nice, but some people they said that those clothes are not appropriate to wear here. This is why I now wear the more plain clothes, but some people they still say it is not appropriate."
I found myself fantasizing about her in her earlier attire. Given the comments she was getting, I'm sure those clothes were hot and sexy, and I yearned to see her in those outfits. But of course I had to keep things proper and corporate, and I could never even hint at the fact that I felt that way.
"Well, Ms. Rodriguez," I responded, continuing to choose my words carefully and sticking to my 'helpful boss' demeanor, "I tell my managers that they are not to focus on clothes-related issues, but rather, how well a person is doing his or her job. It doesn't matter whether a person is wearing jeans and a tee shirt or something more ... well, stylish. But also, there is another factor, and this has to do with the entire company, not just my department. It turns out that due to various legal issues, the Human Resources department ... um ... uh ..."
But then my voice stopped in my throat. Ms. Rodriguez had apparently finished her food, and as I was speaking, she reached over to put her tray on the table next to ours, which the former diners had recently vacated. In doing so, she had to rise up out of her seat and turn to her side, and that gave me a view of her profile down to her upper thighs. As she bent forward to place the tray on the other table, I noticed her slim waist and the way this made her round, well-proportioned ass stick outwards. After she placed her tray, she turned to face me in that position, and she seemed to be aware of my gaze on her body ... or was she? I still couldn't tell how much of this was in my imagination.
I would have averted my eyes, but she just smiled and gave her ass a very subtle move in my direction, as if to welcome my appreciative and aroused gaze at her bottom ... assuming I wasn't making all this up in my head, I reminded myself. Only then did she sit back down, and she did so in a way that allowed me to see the motion of her breasts as she slowly lowered herself. Her eyes never left mine as she did so.
Although I reminded myself that all this was probably not deliberate, I still felt flabbergasted by the sexual reactions I was having. I had a full erection now. I tried to continue what I was saying, but all I could do was to stammer, "... uh ... and ... so ... um ..."
"Is there something that is wrong, Mr. Martin?" she asked, continuing to look into my eyes. It almost seemed like there was a playful seductiveness in her voice. Or was that just curiosity and concern, and was I just projecting again?
"Um ... I'm sorry, Ms. Rodriguez. I just noticed ... uh ... the time." I had to lie, of course, as there was no way I could admit how much she was affecting me. "Um ... I have a 1:00 PM meeting, and I suddenly remembered ... um, something I need to discuss there."
"I do not want to keep you from your meeting, Sir," she replied, continuing to look at me the same way. Again I wondered about her motives: was she was saying that in playful irony, or was I just imagining that?
"Oh ... no ... no ... don't worry, Ms. Rodriguez. I still have time. It was just a ... um, a momentary distraction. I've been very busy lately and I have a lot on my mind. I apologize again. So ... uh, anyway, where was I? ..."
She put her arms on the table and leaned towards me. "You were speaking to me about something which concerns the department of Human Resources."
My eyes wandered down to her neckline, and I noticed that I could see a tiny bit of the material of her black, low cut bra. I also had a view of the curvature of the upper parts of her breasts. I immediately averted my gaze back to her eyes. She just kept looking at me with that smile, and she kept her open neckline pointed at me, almost as if she's was giving me that view on purpose ... or was she?
I forced myself back on subject. "Oh ... yes, thank you. Well, I was saying that ... uh ... well, here in this country women have been ... um ... well, they are working to not to let sex ... um, I mean, um, gender issues prevent them from rising in a company ... or to help them get a rise ... I mean to get a _raise_ when the men in power try to use that as a ... well as a criterion for advancement. I'm sorry, but it's hard ... um, I mean it's difficult to explain this."
"Do not be concerned, Sir. I think that maybe I understand," she offered. "In your country, the women they do not want to be a woman, but they want to be more like a man, because they believe that will permit them to have the same jobs and opportunities as a man."
"Well, not exactly. I mean, it's not quite so simple as that. It's not that a woman wants to be a man, but yes, they do want the same opportunities. I'm trying to think how to explain this."
"Please do not be offended, Sir, but I have a different opinion. For me it seems like the women in America they do not want to be beautiful and sexy if they want to work in a company. They want to be plain so that the men will not notice them as a woman. I think that this is silly because the men they always notice a woman even if she is wearing plain clothes. And this is not an easy thing for me, Sir, because this is not how I was raised in my country. I love to be a woman and I love to be beautiful and sexy."
As she spoke, she sat back up in her chair and straightened the sides of her blouse. In doing so, this accentuated the form of her breasts, and I felt a surge of desire.
So how could I respond? I thought desperately. I was getting more sexually aroused, and it was getting correspondingly more difficult to think clearly. But I had to say something. I sighed and pressed forward. "I understand, Ms. Rodriguez. What I'm trying to say is that the company and Human Resources have their policies and ... well, for me it doesn't matter if ... uh ... if a female employee wants to look more ... well, plain, or whether you ... I mean, whether she wants to look beautiful and sexy ... um, I mean, I can't really say that word, but ... I mean ... if she wants to look more ... well, like the women dress in your country ... um, that's up to her and I ... I personally don't have any problem with that, either way ... it's just that ... uh ..."
My words got stuck because she once again leaned forward attentively, which allowed me another view down her neckline. She was leaning further than before, and I could see not only more of her breasts, but also a bit of her areola sticking out above the material of her skimpy black bra. My penis became so hard that it almost hurt, and I wonder if she noticed how I squirmed in my seat.
"Yes, Mr. Martin?" she asked, her eyes gazing deeply into mine. If she noticed that I was looking down her blouse, she didn't let on, because she did nothing to alter the view I had.
I was trying at all costs to maintain my decorum and to not betray any of the strong sexual reactions I was having. However, I felt stuck and once again all I could do was fall into stammering, "Um ... uh ... where was I? ..."
"I think that I understand you now, Sir. You are saying to me that if a woman she wants to dress in a plain manner or if she wants to be sexy, this is not a problem for you if she does her work in an acceptable manner."
"Oh yes ... yes, that's exactly what I was saying, and that indeed is my personal opinion, as well as my policy as head of IT. It's just that ... well ..."
My mind was still foggy, and I had to pause to try to choose the right words, but before I could get to my explanation of corporate policy about employee attire, Ms. Rodriquez replied, "Thank you, Mr. Martin. Now I understand your personal opinion and your policy for the department of IT. I can see what you're feeling about me, and I now know that you like the way I wear my clothes, and that you will like it even more if return to wearing my other clothes that are not so plain. Now I know that I have your support, and I will not worry any more if someone tells me that I should dress in a different way."