tagErotic CouplingsAlways In Supplies

Always In Supplies



The following story is for the entertainment of ADULTS ONLY, and contains descriptions of explicit sex. If you are not an adult, or reading sex stories upset you, or you are offended by subjects of a sexual nature - do not read any further!

This story is for entertainment only. It contains adult oriented material. This is a work of fiction. The acts and characters contained within are figments of my imagination and have no basis in fact. I do not practice, advocate, condone or encourage acts portrayed here. The characters in the story are entirely fictional. You need to believe that all of the characters are over the age of eighteen.

This story may not be reproduced in any form for profit without the written permission of the author. This story may be freely distributed with this notice attached.

* * * * * * * * * *

Always In Supplies: A Harvey Marcus Retrospective

In a sudden delusion caused by two simultaneous synapses crossing each other, I thought, "Gee, wouldn't it be keen to tell the story of how I, Harvey Marcus, got started with all of this screwing around. I mean, it didn't just happen out of nothing. Everything has a cause, a spark, an ignition. So, here's another Official Retrospective, detailing how I involuntarily got sucked into a campaign of accidental sex with all of the world's eighteen-year and older females.

Episodes One and Two found me seduced by two different babysitters. Episode Three involved a stranger, while Episode Five partnered me with a relative.

This jumps back to my Fourth Episode, bringing Mr. Marcus to a new boundary condition: sex with a co-worker. It wouldn't be the last time, but it was the first. The rest were merely copies.

* * * * * * * * * *

I'd been working for the company for a few years and feeling pretty secure in my position. The work was exciting and fresh, and from my healthy annual raises, I knew I was valued as an employee. One day when I got home, I noticed that I'd left a pen - which I'd gotten from our supply room - in my pocket. No big deal. When I threw it into the kitchen drawer, I noticed that it joined almost a dozen other pens from work. Was I subconsciously stealing supplies? I viewed myself as an honest man. Well, kind of honest, given a series of extramarital couplings. But the babysitters who seduced me and that bossy stranger in the gynecologist's office were almost beyond my control. At least, that was my story and I was sticking to it.

Over the next couple of months, I made sure that I left pens from work at work. Then around the house, I found myself scrounging for pens. Whenever I needed one, I couldn't find any. They weren't magically disappearing.

Annie was too young. There was only one reasonable explanation. "Harriett, have you seen my pens?"

"Are they yours? I didn't know I was prohibited from using them."

Everything had become justification for an argument. "I meant, pens I brought home from work."

"From the kitchen drawer? I take one when I need one."

She must have left them behind or lost them because she had taken all of them. So I decided that the next time I went to the supply closet at work, I'd take a box of pens, bring it home and put it in my desk drawer, not the kitchen. That would be a whole lot more efficient than taking them home, one at a time.

The next day, I waltzed into the supply room, took a box of pens and walked back to my desk. No big deal.

As I left my cubicle to go home, a man in a double-breasted suit blocked my path. "I need to check your briefcase."

I'd splurged on an expensive brown leather briefcase with brass locks when I got my job. "Uh, sure." I popped the clasps and opened it for inspection. My nose detected the new leather briefcase smell, or perhaps it was just my active imagination.

"Hmmm." The man lifted the box of pens up in front of my face. "You should know better. So what did you do with the other office supplies?"

Millions of butterflies flitted around in my stomach. Would taking a box of pens lose me my job? How stupid! "What other? I just needed a few pens-"

"A box full?

"Okay, I'm sorry." I could have taken them home one at a time over a two-week period not have been detected. So much for efficiency.

He folded his arms over a developed chest. "So how did you get the calculators out? One at a time or the carton of a dozen all at once?"

"I didn't take any calculators. I don't do arithmetic at home." Except for counting up the women who want sex with me. That was a growing number, and my only opportunities. Harriett had taken down her shingle.

"Well, if not you, someone else, but you're a prime suspect." He pointed at me with the box of pens, not his finger. "We'll be keeping an eye on you."

I pulled my suit jacket tight to fight the chill of his words. I'd be under scrutiny? For a lousy box of pens? I wasn't going to take the wrap for large-scale theft. Someone else was doing it, and I was determined to find out who.

I decided to keep my own supply room vigil. If I was being watched and hanging around the supply room too much, I'd be incriminating myself by my behavior, so I was stealthy about it. And whenever I visited the room, I updated a personal inventory of the expensive items in a small notepad in my suit jacket pocket: calculators, desk clocks, leather binders, the desirable stuff for a thief. Yes, I got the notepad from supplies.

Over a two-week period, I detected a pattern in my inventory history. The thefts happened late in the day or overnight. That meant either an employee or the cleaning crew. I decided to set up a sting operation, staying a bit late each night and making a legitimate visit to the supply room, in case Mr. Double Breasted was watching.

Two nights later at 5:30 PM, I went down to the supply room for replacement batteries. My wireless keyboard and mouse required three each. The batteries had legitimately registered 'low' so if confronted, I had the bad batteries in my pocket as proof of good intentions.

The room was already occupied. A young secretary who always wore black was in the room holding a shopping bag. I'd had only a couple of opportunities to work in her vicinity, none of them positive. Most of the time she worked alone in a corner cubicle, one that faced windowless walls. Her black outfit was her exclusive wardrobe, matching her sullen attitude. She didn't seem to want to be working here, or maybe anywhere. Her distain for her co-workers was palatable. Her hair was always pulled back tight into a bun, pulling her eyes apart. Oh yes, and thick lensed glasses in a black frame.

My appearance startled her. The shopping bag fell from her grasp. Packages of Post-It notes, boxes of pens and markers and four electric pencil sharpeners tumbled onto the floor.

"What are you doing?"

"Oh my! Oh yes. This is very awkward." She looked away, avoiding eye contact.

"Awkward? Stealing is illegal, not awkward. Do you know they thought I was the thief? What's your name, so I can tell the office manager?"

"Miss Thrope. Miss Anne Thrope." She shook, probably from nerves. She'd been caught, red handed. "I'm so sorry."

"You can show it by putting that stuff back."

"Oh yes, of course." She knelt down and gathered the items at her knees.

"And never doing this again." From behind, I had my first opportunity to examine her body. I knew staring at my female co-workers would get me fired, so I avoided any obvious opportunities. This time, it was just the two of us, and she had her back to me, muttering continuous apologies.

As she put the items back, I viewed her in profile. A pretty nice body, with a round ass and modest tits. I wondered how she looked with her hair down. Given the lack of sex in my life, those horny thoughts were not unusual.

"I am so sorry. I shouldn't have done this. I need to stop doing this. Please forgive me."

I was tired of her remorse. "Just go to the office manager tomorrow and confess. You'll feel much better."

Her voice became strident. "No. I need to be punished right now."

"Huh?" She was no child and I wasn't her parent. What was I supposed to do, put her on a 'time out'?

Her eyes were aimed at the floor. "I need to be punished, just like the last time I was caught."

"Last time?" I already knew that this was a recurring behavior. I didn't know that someone had caught her before and she was still stealing in spite of it. "I'm not Security. Just turn yourself in."

"I will. I promise. Oh yes, and I'm so sorry. But right now, you must spank me." Her eyes focused on mine.

What? "I can't do that. You're a grown woman."

"But you must." She leaned against the shelves. "I need to be taught a lesson, just like the last time. That's what he said."

"He who?"

"Mr. Tashun. He caught me and scolded me and told me I needed to be punished. You caught me, so you do it."

I knew Tashun's name. He was about two or three levels above me in the management hierarchy. Did he really spank an employee for stealing? Maybe it was a senior executive perk. Reluctantly, I patted her ass. "Okay, you've been spanked."

"He did it harder. Wait." She pulled up her skirt and held it at her waist "Now."

I'd been right. Her ass was nice and round in plain white cotton. I slapped against her panties. Okay, maybe I fondled one buttock.


I was getting harder. Per her request, I gave her a glancing blow.

"You're not doing it right. Here." She pulled down her panties. They fell to her ankles. "Spank my bare skin." She arched her back.

Not only was she exposing her ass but standing with her legs slightly apart, her pussy was on display as well. When I smacked her butt nice and hard, my hand got wet from her leaking pussy. This was turning her on. And seeing and slapping near her cunt had me fully erect. I slapped her ass a few times. My hand left red marks on her pale skin. "There, you've been spanked. Now get dressed and we can go home-"

"Spanking was Mr. Tashun's first punishment. There was another one."

I had no clue. "What did he do?"

She turned around. I stared at the front of her pussy. She reached forward and grabbed the bulge in my pants. "He used this."

My dick? Of course not. His dick. "I can't do that." It wasn't like I couldn't. I was erect and physically able. What if Mr. Double Breasted was watching? "Not here." I didn't really have a suggestion for another place.

She hadn't removed her hand from my crotch. "Why not? He did it, in this very room. I bent over like before-" She let go.

My cock was throbbing. "Uh huh."

"And he dropped his pants and took out his thingy."

"His penis?"

"Yes. Now go on, do it!"

Tashun had discovered Anne's theft and spanked and fucked her as punishment. Except it didn't work. She was back again, loading up on supplies. Maybe he didn't apply the punishment deep enough or hard enough. Given her demeanor and attitude, she hadn't ratted him out. Hell, she thought she deserved it. If the pattern held, she wouldn't tattle on me, either.

I gave one fleeting thought to the great job I was about to lose. I unbuckled my pants and pulled down my jockeys. My cock stuck out in anticipation. "Like this?"

"Oh God, his was a lot smaller."

That was more information than I needed. If he was small, then he'd only delivered a minor punishment.

"The spanking got you all inflated, didn't it? Shame on me. I'm really sorry. Let me fix it." She dropped to her knees. She closed her eyes as she took the head of my cock in her mouth. She slurped and sucked. My cock hardened past erect. "It's getting worse." She stood up facing away and spread her legs. "You'll have to penetrate me. That'll make things right."

I didn't know if would solve any issues except getting my rocks off, for which I would have been forever grateful. "You're sure?"

She reached behind and pulled me close enough so my cock thwacked her ass. "Punish me."

I aimed my cock at her still damp labia. She cocked her hips to accommodate. I slid in easily. Miss Thorpe had experienced more than just small Mr. Tashun.

"Oh yes. Now punish me harder."

I humped from behind, taking advantage of her lack of focus on anything but our intercourse by copping a feel of her tits.

She turned her head. "No kissing and no fondling, just punishing."

Having been put in my place, I attacked her place with more vigor. The shelves rattled with every thrust.

"This is better than Mr. Tashun's punishment. Lots better. I don't think I'll ever steal anything, ever again. And if you punish me really good, I'll report myself tomorrow morning first thing."

Since I wanted Mr. Double Breasted to have his perp, I kicked it up a notch. As I held her hips, I banged against her, again and again, delivering my cock to the depths of her pussy and blows to her ass with my groin. "Are you going to be a good girl from now on?"

"Oh yes! Oh yes! I'll never steal anything ever again. And if I need to be reminded of what happens to bad girls, you'll apply another punishment, won't you?"

"Damn right I will!" My hips were pumping fast, drilling deep. Her pussy muscles tightened. She grunted a few times and then went limp. I wrapped my arms around her and held her close. With just a few more deep dives, I felt the rush. I held her against me as I gooped her pussy. And while I supported her, I slid my hand up and pressed it against her breast. She didn't complain.

It took a minute or so, me holding her erect as my erection shrunk. She seemed to come out of whatever stupor she had been in. I let her loose as she regained the ability to stand on her own. I put my deflated cock away as she pulled up her panties and pulled her dress into place.

We stood, facing each other. Had I really just fucked a co-worker? She might actually confess to her crimes, but I was going down with her. I'd committed the extreme in sexual harassment.

"Thank you for helping me see the error of my ways. I'll never steal again. And if I ever get the urge, I'll come and see you." She reached up to care for any stray hairs that had escaped from her bun.

Was I actually going to get away with it?

Miss Thrope's hand made a crack as it hit my cheek. "I told you, no kissing and no fondling." She plodded out of the room, leaving her empty shopping bag as evidence of a theft gone bad.

I rubbed my cheek as I returned to my desk. Miss Anne Thrope had already departed. I stuck a single pen in my shirt pocket, pulled on my trench coat and headed for my car.

A couple of weeks later around the coffee machine, coworkers buzzed about how Miss Anne Thrope was caught sneaking a couple of laptops out in her shoulder bag. The company let her go and was planning on pressing charges. I wondered why she hadn't come to me when she got the urge, and if she'd ask the district attorney to fuck her as punishment?

### An Original H M Tale ###

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