Through a Glass Lightly

Copyright PennameWombat April 2020

The author asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, locales, and incidents are either the products of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

This is my submission for the 2020 'On the Job' LitErotica event.

*****

Howard pushed through the stairwell door and emerged onto the darkened eighteenth floor, 8 P.M and the short days of late January meant sunlight was hours gone and he'd deactivated the automatic motion sensors which left only a couple of widely spaced soft security lights for the floor. Even the cleaners were almost finished across the five floors his employer occupied so he was alone. Music played through his wireless earbuds as he tapped at his phone to pull up the error report. Cubicle 14. That way, one of the lucky assholes with a cube on the outer ring, which gave them an easy view through the windows of their skyscraper. No cubes on this floor touched the walls that were floor to ceiling windows as was the building across the street and most other nearby skyscrapers. The perimeter was a hallway that allowed the company to claim everyone was equal, the infamous 'corner window office' didn't exist. It did, but only two floors higher where hoi polloi didn't sit.

He arrived at the target cubicle, the resident had reported 'files won't save' but it had come too late for the day crew to address. Not that they cared. The cube walls where they abutted other cubes were six feet tall but along the hallways only four. He scanned over the darkened shapes of knick knacks as he stood at the entrance. He stepped inside and tapped his phone to use the screen to find the switch for the light mounted under the overhead bookshelf. He paused when he caught sight of a couple of family pictures, a brunette nearing middle-age and going stout, chubby balding husband and a couple of cherubs, a boy and a girl. The latter two were probably tattooed and pierced ne'er-do-wells by now based on the apparent age of the photos. Bright, sudden lights at his back drew him from imagining how much bourbon the husband got into each night while the younger two smoked massive bowls of ganja and the cube's resident chugged down white wine.

He turned slowly. And his jaw dropped.

He didn't know what company was on the eighteenth floor across the street but apparently they used active motion sensors. He was suddenly pleased at that as he slid to stand behind the short cube wall along the outer hallway, gauged the spill of light and found it fell short of him. It wasn't that great a distance to the other building, the street between the buildings was two-lane pavement with parking on only one side and the usual urban sidewalks.

She was tall, approached six feet in those heels, based on the furniture. He'd seen it before, one of those 'open plan' offices instead of cubicles, sets of tables in cross shapes which each offered four spaces to sit, each with a large display screen users could attach to their laptop. People sat where they would each day. But other than cleaners he'd never seen anyone there this late.

Her long, blonde hair trailed behind her as her arms moved in a rather animated fashion. He wondered at that before he squinted and saw the white, wireless earbud when she brushed the hair behind her ears. She suddenly stopped from her rapid stride and stood with her hands on her hips. Her face did something but then she shook her head and walked slowly.

Apparently she was on a phone call.

He watched her mouth move as she approached a table set directly across from him that offered the usual four workspaces. He saw her approach an open laptop that was side-on to him. The nearest chair was pushed well behind that spot and sat against the window. She must've applied considerable force when she'd stood up. He expected her to retrieve the chair but she simply walked to the desk and bent at the waist to put her weight on her elbows and stared at the screen.

"Shi...," more of an exhale than a word.

She had high, stiletto heels, a beige color that matched her skirt and the matching jacket. The skirt was at the shortest of the acceptable range for women who worked in the city but she clearly had the figure and legs to do the skirt justice. He guessed she had panty hose on given the chilly temperatures and hue of her legs. Her posture meant that all but the top inch or two of the backs of her thighs were in view.

He guessed she was within a year or two of his thirty years. He had enough experience to know that no one would mistake him for a model but nor would anyone assume he lived under a bridge and waylaid unsuspecting travelers. He volunteered to work the evening shift since it gave him the afternoons, especially now in mid-winter, to get what sun there might be to work out.

The blonde stood straight and her mouth moved while she stared forward for a few moments before she shrugged off her jacket and laid it across the table to her right, next to a purse. She had a skin-tight white sleeveless top that revealed flat abs and a very impressive chest.

Howard exhaled slowly as she became animated again as she spoke and her body shook. Like the shirt, the skirt traced her ass and hips. She stopped speaking and shook her head again.

He pushed back slightly when she turned and walked to the window but it appeared her gaze went upward rather than straight across. Her hips were nicely proportionate to her figure and that top offered significant cleavage. He shifted his own hips to adjust to the pressure that his prick suddenly offered. She frowned, then nodded and her mouth moved quickly, he thought at least one word was 'goodbye' and indeed, her hand tapped at one of the earbuds. Her hands went back to her hips, her eyes closed and she leaned her head back and rotated it in a slow stretch.

His phone chirped and the screen flashed and he jumped before he pushed the screen against his denim-covered thigh. He held his breath as the woman's posture softened and her eyes opened as she looked through the window.

Howard stayed frozen. His phone chirped again and his eyes moved down, the slightest glow around the edges of the phone.

But there was no indication as the blonde turned and pulled her phone out of the waistband of her skirt just above her ass and walked to her laptop and pushed the lid down, set the phone on the table and picked the computer up and turned so her back was to him before she bent at the waist and stuffed the laptop into a little black case. His breath went slightly choppy as the skirt pulled to show the lowest swell of her ass wrapped in nylon.

Holy hell, her legs were incredible. No one would mistake Howard for a model but this blonde? Easy to do.

She pulled up a handle from the little case as she stood before she pulled her jacket back on and slipped her phone into a pocket. She gathered her purse and turned and pulled the roller case behind her to a coat rack that stood near the center of the room and laid her coat over her arm. She scanned around the room and mouthed something but he couldn't see anyone else before she strode purposely to the doors that led to the central elevator bank.

Howard exhaled slowly and stood unmoving for close to a minute. His free hand brushed against the cock that refused to go quiescent. Finally he was satisfied she was gone and he checked his phone. Just a couple of more automated to-dos. He shook his head and hit the light switch and sat down to check out the computer. He glanced at the family photo before his gaze went back to the still-lit floor across the street.

He shut the computer down after he'd cleaned up multiple gigabytes of temp files, something weird but at least it'd work for now. He stood and he turned his head as the eighteenth floor across the street went dark.

*****

It was just short of 8 P.M. when Howard stepped out of the 'Craphole,' the glorified bunker on the far side of the sixteenth floor. Officially it was the "IT Service Center" and no one on twenty would ever hear the unofficial name. At least if the IT guys desired to remain employed. The cleaners had just entered the floor which meant that they'd finished eighteen and above as they always worked from the top down.

He had no requests to go to eighteen but his to-do list wasn't such that he needed to go anywhere else right now. He walked across the floor, nodded to one of the cleaners, her dark blue pants and shirt shapeless but she smiled and nodded back. He was used to adjusting his work to allow them room and they were used to him being around. As he neared the windows he looked up.

Yes. Eighteen was lit up across the street. But was it just cleaners?

He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he walked to the stairwell, pulled up the building control app he wasn't supposed to have access to and navigated to eighteen's motion sensor control as he arrived on that floor's landing. He checked, nothing detected for the last ten minutes, after thirty the lights would turn off. He deactivated the sensors and overrode the timer and it confirmed his command to turn the lights off before he quickly opened the door and winced at the light flash from the stairwell.

She stood with her back to him as he returned to Cubicle 14 and hurriedly slid in and stood behind the low wall. Black shoes with high, thicker heels. Black nylons with a slight pattern covered her legs. Her skirt was tight around her hips and covered her to mid-thighs but a long slit in the back reached almost to her crotch as she stood with her legs in an acute inverted vee. Her long blonde hair fell with the slightest wavy flow to the edge of the small of her back.

She went animated again as she did a quarter turn and walked along the floor and spoke in what seemed to be a rapid voice. The slit in the front of her skirt was as long as the one in the back, with each step of her left leg he saw that she indeed had stockings. Halfway from the hem of the red skirt to her crotch he saw a thickened black strip before bare flesh completed the climb. He thought he saw a garter strap but wasn't sure. She neared a wall before she did a one-eighty and his view of her right leg duplicated the first.

Instead of the tight sleeveless tee, she had a snugly-fitted button down long sleeved red blouse that was just translucent and offered a slightly obscured view of the black bra that tried to tame those amazing breasts. As she'd turned he saw her phone stuffed into her waistband again above her shapely ass. Odd habit but he didn't mind.

As she reached the extent of her walk she turned and finally faced him. He blew air out of his nose and shifted his legs, his cock made clear it was awake. Her blouse was unbuttoned to the bottom of her breastbone and that bra masterfully forced plentiful round flesh into the gap.

Still facing his direction she stopped alongside the table where her purse and the laptop sat, again opened and side-on to him. The chair was closer to home this time, a red jacket across the back. She looked down and then used her hands to hike her skirt up and worked on the tops of her stockings. He blew breath out and his hand unconsciously slid against his constrained cock as he saw black through the upraised skirt's slit.

She'd coordinated the black bra and panties. She smoothed the skirt back down as it was once more her turn to speak. This time she pointed emphatically at her own chest, once it seemed she'd gotten her point across her fingers didn't leave her flesh, instead she traced around one sweep of exposed breast from her top right down the center, she undid one more button and pushed the cloth as she worked her fingers up the other breast. She slid her finger under the edge of the bra and her eyes fluttered and she smiled as he guessed she'd found a nipple. He pressed more firmly on the cock that made its discomfort manifest.

Suddenly she stopped as her face soured and she freed her finger, the movements of her hands had to be felt by whoever was at the other end of the line. She stepped around the table and stood so that her right leg was visible through the long slit, the skirt had ridden up and he saw the flesh merged into the black panties. He slowly rubbed the length of his cock down his right thigh.

Again his phone chirped and he froze. It was in his shirt's breast pocket with the face against his chest but the flash was visible.

Dammit. He needed to change that setting.

Fortunately the blonde was still engrossed in her phone and laptop, her skirt still offered its view. He stroked his prick back to full attention. She turned to face in his direction before she seemed to look up and then down, a look of concentration on her face. Then something like a smile formed but her mouth quickly went neutral again as she tilted her head and stared forward. After a couple of minutes where she added a few words off and on she seemed to say her goodbyes and tapped an earbud. She repeated her neck stretching ritual and after it she closed her laptop and stored it and gathered her jacket and purse. Again, she seemed to speak to someone once she'd retrieved her overcoat from its rack.

He stayed motionless but for the slow strokes against his cock for five minutes after she'd left before he sighed, stood and pulled up his to-do list.

*****

Third night lucky? His phone chirped at him as he set the three new computers on twenty to transfer files from the three old machines they were replacing. There was no need to stare at them so he edged over and again saw eighteen lit up. Once he'd entered the stairwell he ensured no motion on the floor so he overrode nineteen's controls to turn its lights off then walked down one more flight. Again, nothing moved on the floor but this time he waited until he'd emerged from the stairwell before he overrode the controls to darken the floor. Cubicles and equipment shielded him from the blonde's view, if she was near her usual location.

He slowly worked his way back to Cubicle 14. The lobby of the building across the street had required a badge when he'd left the previous evening but it had been open on his way in earlier. The board in the lobby told him eighteen and the couple of floors above it were occupied by some sort of multinational public relations, advertising and marketing firm. That made sense. Whoever she was on the phone with he highly doubted they were locals. He didn't know why she'd not do the call at home at this hour but maybe she had some psychological reason, she was more comfortable projecting whatever authority she had from her workplace.

Whatever the reason, he hoped it lasted for a while.

He slowly slid around a corner and saw her, he froze as she faced his direction, her arms unusually crossed. Heels, grey this time, black stockings with a herringbone pattern but her skirt was similar to but shorter than the previous evening's except it was a deep, dark green. He was slightly disappointed as she still wore a matching dark green jacket. After a few moments she turned to her left and walked slowly and let her arms go free before they began their dance as it was her turn to speak, the slit in the skirt revealed the skirt's hem only just covered the tops of the stockings. He took the opportunity to walk the short distance and turned to settle again into Cubicle 14 as she walked toward the far wall.

Finally she spun and continued to gesticulate as she walked and spoke. Then she went silent before her face broke into a smile and she laughed. She went silent and walked to her workstation area, the same one as the previous evenings. She stood side-on to him and finally pulled off her jacket and set it on the chair to expose another long-sleeved button-down blouse, this one also flowed around her breasts and was tight against her abs.

He squinted. Something was... different.

He'd again seen the flashes of bare flesh at the tops of her thighs as she'd walked, these stockings fit like yesterday's while tonight's skirt barely covered their tops. That wasn't it. Then she turned and took a couple of steps toward him.

Holy... hell...

She indeed was model material. He'd never been married, had no steady girlfriend at the moment. But he'd rarely been celibate for any appreciable amount of time. He was familiar with breasts of many sizes and appreciated all of them. He'd also had more than one experience with those enhanced by a surgeon's skill, not always well done.

Yesterday's blouse had been translucent, this one passed that to be all but transparent.

Deep red nipples showed on her large and perfect mounds through the smooth and tight fabric that rather than detract simply emphasized the view even more than being naked would have. Whether her floor was cooler than his or it was the pressure of the fabric her nipples were impressively erect. As before, her blouse was unbuttoned to below her breastbone. It was obvious even from this distance that no surgeon had touched those perfect globes, the slightest sag that wasn't a sag made that clear, as did their movement as she again became animated when it was her turn to speak.

Howard wanted to use his phone and take a zoomed in picture. But he knew the flash was probably enabled and he'd need to activate the screen to do it. He simply stared and committed the view to memory. She turned and walked away from him, he caught glimpses of stocking tops as the hem of her skirt pulled up and one hand seemed to be near her chest.

He wasn't satisfied to simply press his flesh, he pushed his zipper down and took advantage of her position to give his rampant prick freedom. Then he had a thought and turned. Yes. The resident in Cubicle 14 had a pump bottle of hand lotion. He glanced back, the blonde hadn't turned so he used his thumb to quickly press a squirt of the lotion into his palm.

It was cool.

She pivoted quickly and waved her arms as her mouth made clear some sort of Big Moment had been reached in the call. The bottom of her blouse was tucked into the waistband of her skirt but while she'd been turned she'd undone every remaining button. As she walked and waved the cloth moved along with her, each wonderful nipple exposed in turn before it retreated behind its gauzy curtain.

He exhaled hard through his nose and his mouth and by reflex squeezed his cock. Hard. His lubricated thumb and finger worked the swollen head.

As if she might walk through the window she didn't stop until she was within a step of the glass. She finally stopped speaking and put her hands on her hips, which exposed almost the entirety of each breast as the cloth was pulled asunder. Again she tilted her head, a marker of her concentration on something being said thousands of miles away. Then her right hand left her hip and found the nipple of her breast on that side, a finger swirled around it before a second finger joined to coax it further erect as her distant stare continued as she slowly tilted her head to now lean to her left.

He stroked the full length of his own erect flesh, his couldn't get any harder but she seemed determined that hers could. Her distant stare didn't change but her mouth made what he assumed was a wordless 'O' as she worked at her tit. She licked her lips as her hand moved to repeat its treatment on her other one.

He moaned when she appeared satisfied with her work and both hands went free as she spun on her heels to walk away from him. He slowed his strokes, wanted to last as long as possible. She walked to her workspace and spun around and half sat with that lovely ass on the edge of one arm of the cross-shaped table and her arms each side of her and her hands on the table. She glanced over at the laptop to her right and he thought she squinted while she apparently read something.