Walls

Jane and Bob share a five-foot high cubicle wall, swathed in a gray fabric of unknown origin. Likely it is the by-product of some Chinese manufacturing plant. The wall is hollow and does not hold thumbtacks well.

"Good Morning, Jane," Bob says as he takes a seat at his desk and powers up his computer.

"Good morning, Bob." Jane smiles at the crown of Bob's balding head.

"Enjoy your weekend?" He asks as his fingers hit his keyboard with sharp taps.

"Yes, thanks. You?" she yawns and twirls a strand of her long brown hair around her forefinger.

"T-ball season at the Frank house," Bob chuckles. "Bob Jr. hit one out of the park."

Jane nods. Bob cannot see her acknowledgment but he seems satisfied and settles into faster and more furious typing.

She runs her finger across the telephone. Straightens the piles of papers in her inbox. Bob's phone rings. His voice is muffled and Jane presses her ear to the wall that separates them. His responses are short. Gruff. He slams the phone down and Jane jumps back.

...

Quitting time approaches.

"Have a good night, Jane," Bob says as he rustles through his things and stands, pushing his chair under his desk.

"Yes, you too, Bob." Jane lifts her arm and waves to him over the top of the wall.

Hours later Jane is wandering the streets of the city. Flowers lie listless in oversize pots. Children dart by with dripping ice cream cones in hand. Their parents, haggard and limp, ten paces behind. A tattered bench catches Jane's eye and she sits.

"Well, hello Jane," Bob says, his eyes bloodshot, his gait wobbly.

"Good evening, Bob," she catches her breath and holds it as the aroma of cigarette and beer wafts over her.

"Mind if I join you, Jane?" He asks.

She nods, scoots over, and presses her knees close together making room for Bob.

"You're beautiful, Jane," Bob says his words slurred and barely intelligible.

"Thank you, Bob." She folds her arms across her breasts.

Bob moves closer and places his hand on her slender thigh. He caresses her exposed knee.

"Beautiful, Jane," he murmurs. His eyes sparkle.

Jane straightens her back. She can barely breathe.

Bob leans closer to Jane and cups his hands around her face; his yeasty breath envelops her. Her stomach tightens into a tight knot and her heart beats furiously as Bob presses his lips to hers. Jane lets out a small cry and wrestles free of his grasp.

Bob's body slumps forward, his chin resting on his chest as his hands drop to his sides. Jane watches his chest heave up and down, then retreats, slipping away down a side street.

...

"Good Morning, Jane," Bob says as he takes a seat at his desk and powers up his computer.

"Good morning, Bob." Jane smiles at the crown of Bob's balding head.

"Quite a rainstorm, Jane." Bob says as he settles into his chair.

"Indeed, raining like cats and dogs." Jane responds.

"Well, the lawn surely can use it." Bob says as he flips through the folders lining his file cabinet.

"That is for sure." Jane says, as she checks herself in her pocket vanity mirror, running red lipstick across her full lips.

...

The clock ticks to 5pm.

"Well that's it for me," Bob says as he stands to leave. "Enjoy your evening, Jane."

"Thank you, Bob," Jane responds and reaches for her pocket book resting at her stiletto-clad feet.

When she reaches the far end of the parking complex, Jane finds Bob waiting for her, the heft of his body planted firmly on the hood of his car. He motions to her and she approaches him, the sound of her high heels reverberating off the cement blocks.

"Come sit with me, Jane." Bob says as he hungrily eyes her lithe form.

"Well, for a minute, Bob." Jane says hesitatingly. Her lean legs brush against his, her hands reach back to provide her with balance.

Bob moves his hand down to her ankle, caressing the top of her foot.

"You are so sexy, Jane," He growls languidly he moves his hand up the length of her bare legs, lingering to palm the soft skin of her inner thighs.

Jane braces herself and closes her eyes, fighting the urge to slam her legs shut.

Bob leans across her body, and pushes her back against the hood of his car. His erection is pressed snuggly against her thigh.

"Sexy, Jane." Bob whispers as he slips his fingers inside her panties and pushes them into her silken folds. Jane fists her hands up into tiny balls.

Bob's phone trembles against their legs. Bob retreats, pulling his pussy stained fingers from Jane's core.

"Shit, Jane." His breathing ragged, his face flushed. "It's the old lady, doll." He shrugs as he pulls his car keys from his back pocket. Jane stands and tugs at her knee length skirt. She runs her hands through her long locks and watches as Bob motors up his car and pulls out of the parking garage.

...

"Good Morning, Jane," Bob says as he takes a seat at his desk and powers up his computer.

"Good morning, Bob." Jane smiles at the crown of Bob's balding head.

"Love that American Idol," Bob says as he tears open sugar substitute packages and dumps them into his tepid coffee.

"Yes it is a fun show," Jane says, picking at a loose thread hanging from the hem of her skirt.

...

Wednesday is Happy Hour day at the office.

"You coming, Jane?" Bob asks as he stands to leave.

"Yes, Bob. I will see you there," Jane says, tucking her belongings away at the back of her top drawer.

The pub smells dank and moldy. The mourning cries of cowboys drift over the pool table. People huddle in small groups.

"Glad you made it, Jane," Bob says, stroking the back of her neck.

"Thank you, Bob," Jane says turning to face him.

"I want to fuck you, Jane" Bob says as his fingers dance gingerly up Jane's arms.

Jane says nothing. Her gaze drops to the ground.

"Grind my cock inside of you, Jane," Bob whispers into her ear as he massages her fleshy ass cheeks.

Jane catches her breath and wiggles her body from his. "Excuse me for a moment, Bob," Jane says as she moves towards the restrooms.

"Sweet baby, Jane," Bob sings, as he follows close behind her.

Bob pins Jane to the wall outside of the bathroom, pushing her skirt up with his hand. Bob presses his body flat against her, his desire pronounced. "My cock deep inside of you, Jane," Bob says thrusting his erection against her pelvis. Jane clenches her teeth and presses her palms to the wall behind her. "My sweet angel, Jane," Bob says as he undoes his zipper and frees his rigid dick. Bob pulls at Jane's leg and wraps it around his waist. She offers no encouragement or objection. "So wet, angel," Bob coos as he presses the head of his dick to the slippery edge of her full lips.

Footsteps and conversation travel their way and Bob quickly releases Jane and adjusts himself. Jane runs her hands through her hair and pushes her way into the bathroom.

...

"Good Morning, Jane," Bob says as he takes a seat at his desk and powers up his computer.

"Good morning, Bob." Jane smiles at the crown of Bob's balding head.

"They're moving me up to seven," Bob says as he begins stuffing his personal belongings into moving cartons.

"Oh, really?" Jane asks as she flips through her fashion magazine.

"Yeah, some new manager thinks it makes more sense," Bob huffs as he continues packing.

"Hmmm," Jane says, nodding.

Bob finishes his packing, pushing back his chair for the last time. "Well that's it for me, Jane," Bob says as he grabs hold of his boxes.

"Good luck to you, Bob." Jane says standing to peer over the wall separating the two.

"Thanks, Jane. Same to you." Bob says, smiling as he turns to leave and walks in the direction of the bank of elevators.

...

Lunchtime beckons. Jane pulls a crinkled brown paper bag from her pocketbook. The smell of peanut butter mingles with the damp scent of air conditioner coolant.

"Look like I am your new neighbor, Jane," Ted says as he peers over the wall and places his belongings on the desk.

"Indeed, it does look that way, Ted," Jane says as she carefully picks at the tinfoil clinging to her sandwich.

"Well, glad to be here, Jane," Ted says as he takes a seat at his desk and powers up the computer.

"Glad to have you, Ted." Jane smiles at the crown of Ted's balding head.