All In A Day's Work
of
ShmiBaby
genre
exibitionism
“Oh, I’m glad you’re here.”
Sharon, a pretty blonde, looked up from her computer to see the head of her manager Danielle peering over the wall of her cubicle. “Where else would I be,” Sharon sarcastically thought to herself. Daniel stepped around the wall and entered Sharon’s cubicle.
Sharon could tell by the way Danielle followed her initial greeting with a “so, how you doing” that she had some mundane task for her, that she couldn’t find anyone else to do. Without waiting for an answer, Danielle got right to it. “I got word from legal that they gave final approval on the proposal we’ve been working on for the last 2 months, you know the one, and we’ll need 20 copies, printed and collated for our meeting Monday morning. I went looking for Chris but he had to leave early. Something with his kid, so do you mind?” As if Sharon had any choice. “Sure, she said,” as she opened the file on her computer. Her manager stopped her.
“Since it’s a sizable job,” Danielle began,”and we don’t want to tie up the printers here, you’ll have to use the other printer. Yeah, I know, it’s a pain in the ass having to walk all the way to Timbuktu but at least you won’t be interrupted by anyone else who has to print something, am I right?” she said rather sympathetically.
“You do make a valid point,” Sharon replied.
“Great. When you’re done just drop them on my desk. Now I gotta run. Bunch of phone calls to make.” Danielle tapped Sharon’s desk as she left, finishing with “You’re the best, Shari.” Sharon leaned over her cubicle wall and watched Danielle as she headed down the corridor, then popped back down. “Then again, you’re not heading to Timbuktu,” she said to herself as she picked up her phone and headed for “the other printer”.
The “other printer” was more than just another printer and the Timbuktu reference was fairly accurate. The main print room located within the office suite itself was in a bright and airy space, with two state-of-the-art printers at the office’s disposal. A wall of windows overlooking the manicured grounds of the commercial park where Sharon’s company was located allowed in plenty of natural light. Meanwhile the “other printer” was located on the other side of the building. One had to leave the firm’s office suite, walk past the elevator lobby, turn right down a corridor where the freight elevator and stairwell A was located, then through a set of fire doors, down a long nondescript corridor, turn left down another shorter corridor, then swipe their company ID at that door to gain entry into what was a rather drab unoccupied section of the floor full of unused cubicles, office chairs and sundry other office-related particulars. Once one navigated their way through the labyrinth of cubicles they would arrive at their destination — a large storeroom that served as the print room where the “other printer” sat waiting for the arrival of whatever employee was tasked with using it.
Sharon smiled at the oblivious receptionist as she walked through the glass doors leading out to the elevator bank. Her heels clicked on the floor as she turned right, passed the freight elevator and pushed open the fire doors leading into the corridor. Reaching her destination, she swiped her ID card and stepped inside.
“Fuckin’ great,” she muttered to herself as she pushed aside some empty boxes maintenance might someday get around to throwing out. Several of the overhead fluorescent lights weren’t working (another item on maintenance’s to-do list) and the window shades were closed which only added to the space’s dim gloominess. Weaving in and around the cubicles, Sharon finally reached the print room. She turned the door handle and stepped in.
“Hello, old friend,” she said as she turned on the lights. She fired up the printer and computer monitored and waited while both booted up. As she logged into the corporate account, a flashing light on the printer screen indicated it was out of paper. “Fuckin’ figures,” she grumbled. Looking around, she spotted several reams sitting on top of the steel shelves that were also in the room. Unfortunately they were just out of reach of her 5 ft 6 body. A vintage desk provided her a solution. As she began to climb on top of it, she kicked off her shoes. Heels probably weren’t the footwear of choice when clambering atop office furniture, especially the slick top of an all metal desk. Neither was the tailored dress she was wearing. After transferring several reams to the desktop, she climbed down, noting how cool the linoleum floor felt under her bare feet. Sharon then reloaded the printer, found the necessary file on the company server, made the correct selections and hit “print”.
The linoleum floor felt kind of nice. While she would often take her shoes off while at her desk, walking around barefoot in the office wasn’t something one would consider “professional”. But here it was different. Here, away from everyone else, Sharon could take off her shoes. As the printer hummed along, Sharon’s frustrated mind began to wander. Taking off her shoes was one thing, Sharon thought to herself, but what about taking off… Sharon shook the thought from her head. She was at work, for goodness sakes. Then again, she was all the way on the other side of the building. Alone. And as her manager said, nobody to interrupt you. And since she had broken up with her asshole boyfriend several months prior, and sworn off dating for a (long) while, currently silicone and the internet were her only sexual outlets. The steamy notion reentered her head. The mere idea of doing something so wickedly salacious led to a warm feeling between her thighs. The pretty blonde stepped out into the cubicle room away from the sounds of the printer and listened.
Nothing. The warm feeling began to spread. She recalled how watching videos and reading stories about impulsive women engaging in the risky act she was now seriously contemplating really turned her on. So why not experience that exact feeling first hand, especially when the opportunity presents itself?
Sharon returned to the printer room and leaned against the desk. First she pulled off her work ID, clipped to a lanyard hanging around her neck, and dropped it on the desk. Then her hands wandered to the belt around her dress, unbuckling it. She pulled it off and tossed it behind her. Her fingers began to fiddle with the buttons on her dress, undoing one, then another until her dress fell open, revealing her powder blue panties and white bra. Using one hand to hold her dress open, Sharon’s other hand wandered down her flat belly to the waistband of her underwear. She teasingly ran a fingertip just inside the elastic band, inhaling deeply at just how horny she’d become.
Eyes rolling back into her head, Sharon gently stroked herself over her now damp panties. Gently moaning, she shrugged her dress off, letting it slide down her arms and onto the floor. Stepping away from the desk Sharon, wearing just her underwear, walked over to the door of the print room. Standing in the doorway, she looked out into the open space, then turned and glanced at her discarded dress, belt and shoes. Any second thoughts about what she was doing vanished as Sharon suddenly felt the need to be completely naked. As in right now. Reaching behind her back, she deftly unclipped her bra, pulling it off and tossing it aside. The nipples on her perky B-cup breasts, already hard as little pink pebbles, seemed to get even stiffer. One hand groped her breasts while the other slid into her little panties.
“Oh, God,” she said as she cupped her warm sex. She pulled out her creamy fingers and sensually licked them, then inserted her thumbs into the elastic waistband and pushed her underwear past her cute little ass and let them slide down her long legs. Stepping out of them, Sharon relished this new and naughty feeling. But something didn’t feel right. She needed to be even more naked. As in completely naked. Head-to-toe naked. So she removed her watch and her bracelets, then pulled off the hairband that was keeping her ponytail in place. The only thing she was wearing was her black-framed eyeglasses, which gave her a slutty librarian look. Fluffing out her long blonde hair, Sharon moaned in bare naked delight. Her arousal was already leaving a slick sheen on the inside of her thighs.
Sharon stepped away from the doorway and into the main area. The cool floor gave way to a soft warm carpeting as a very turned on Sharon began to wander about the empty cubicles. The dingy condition of the room made her feel extra dirty. By now her body was at peak sensitivity as she skillfully edged herself, knowing how intense the end result would be. Her roaming around eventually led her to the main door that led out to the corridor. Turning around, she could see the open door of the print room, where every stitch of her clothes were. The room and her clothes seemed miles away. Turning back to the door, Sharon slowly and quietly opening it, then slipped into the empty corridor. Reaching back into the room, she pulled one of the empty boxes she’d cursed earlier over to the door to keep it open. After all, if the door suddenly closed she wouldn’t be able to get back in. Her ID card was back in the print room.
Along with every stitch of her clothes. The thought made her tingle with nervous arousal.
As Sharon slunk down the corridor further and further from all her clothes, she kept glancing back to the partially opened door, a strategically placed box the only thing saving her from the utter humiliation of having to explain why she was completely naked at work. Still, Sharon couldn’t help but imagine the weight of the door causing the box to slip ever so slightly, with that one little teeny tiny slip leading to another, then another, until the door suddenly closed shut, locking her out as naked as the day she was born. The very idea was so arousing she could feel her sex quivering. Sharon eventually reached the end of the corridor. Peeking around the corner, she could see the fire doors all the way at the far end. Did she dare?
A very naked Sharon stepped out into the longer hall. It seemed some carnal force was gently moving her along as she crept closer and closer to the two doors. A glance down and behind her revealed the telltale signs of just how aroused she was — drips of her juices glistened on the tile floor. It was at this point when she was most vulnerable that Sharon might have been the most aroused. If somebody suddenly came through those doors she’d have nowhere to run or hide. Instead she’d be completely exposed in all her naked glory.
She finally reached the fire doors, her sex screaming for release. Looking through the glass window, Sharon could see the freight elevator and the bright red exit sign for the stairwell. Beyond that and right around the corner would be the elevator lobby. And just past that, the glass doors to her company. Her body purposefully leaned against the push bar of the fire door. It slowly opened. Sharon stepped one bare foot out past the doorway. Than the other. Her entire naked body followed. “Oh, God,” she whispered to herself.
Sharon was barely a 20 second walk to her office. If anyone just happened to wander around the corner, they’d be greeted by the stark naked blonde’s peachy ass as she felt herself up while pressing her naked breasts against the cold metal of a fire door, relishing in how stimulating it felt on her rock hard nipples. They might even notice that her dripping sex was leaving small wet spots on the floor between her bare feet. All kinds of erotic images were racing through Sharon’s mind, all of them involving her getting caught, trying to hide her shame while the moisture seeping through her fingers betrayed her true intent. She imagined entering the stairwell or summoning the freight elevator, taking her nude escapade to another floor. She pictured herself being discovered and subsequently marched through the office bare-assed naked while her shocked coworkers ogled her. She’d be bent over the conference room table and spanked on her bare ass where she’d cum in an uncontrollable orgasm which would only add to her already extreme shame and arousal.
“Oh, God,” Sharon muttered again. She was nearing the point of no return and needed immediate release, and this most certainly not being the place for that hurriedly slipped back into the corridor, quietly closed the door and hastened back to where she’d come. She’d barely rounded the corner when the first pulses of her orgasm began to wash over her. Even before she could plunge her fingers back between her legs her sexual energy began to spill from her swollen lips. Sharon began fervently rubbing herself, her orgasm puddling onto the cold tile floor. She had to use her free hand to cover her mouth and stifle her cries of pleasure. Shockingly, that orgasm wasn’t enough.
The idea that she had just masturbated completely naked in her office building like some wanton slut had turned her on like she’d never been turned on before. Heading back down the corridor, she hurriedly pushed open the door leading back to the printer. Thankfully it had remained open. As it securely closed behind her, Sharon hurried back into the maze of cubicles and mounted the first office chair she saw, using the smooth plastic armrest as an ad-hoc sex toy.
“Oh, God, oh fuck,” she kept repeating as she molested herself while grinding her swollen pussy along the chair’s arm, madly humping it like a dog in heat. Probing fingers found her swollen clit, others teased her puckered rose bud. She was no longer the well-educated professional her company admired. She was reduced to nothing but a shameless slut, exposing and abusing herself to satisfy her own primal desires. After a while the frustration that had been bottled up inside her was released in a guttural “ohjesusfuckingchrist” tidal wave of sheer orgasmic bliss that Sharon wished would go on forever. When it finally subsided Sharon slumped over the now saturated chair to catch her breath. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this sexually exhilarated.
Once her breathing had slowed down to normal she noticed the copier was quiet. Either it was out of paper again or it was finished. She stumbled over to the room to find out. It was finished. Thankfully there was a restroom in the area which Sharon could use to clean herself up. She half expected to look like the aftermath of a drunken gang-bang, but surprisingly she didn’t look that bad. Once presentable and professional-looking again, she collected the collated copies and reluctantly got dressed. But not completely as she stuffed her panties into her pocket. With plenty of new-found verve Sharon strolled back into the office, smiling and greeting her colleagues and wondering if they noticed her post-orgasm radiance. Of course they didn’t.
Walking into Danielle’s office she triumphantly held up the copies, then placed them on her desk. Her smiling supervisor looked up from her phone call and responded with an appreciative thumbs up.
Later that day as she she drove home, Sharon kept thinking back to how lewd and lascivious she felt prancing around at work totally nude and playing with herself, and how satisfied she’d felt afterward. Could the risk of being so naked and naughty in public, and the vision of such humiliating fantasies really have that kind of thrilling affect on her?
There was only one way to find out.
Sharon, a pretty blonde, looked up from her computer to see the head of her manager Danielle peering over the wall of her cubicle. “Where else would I be,” Sharon sarcastically thought to herself. Daniel stepped around the wall and entered Sharon’s cubicle.
Sharon could tell by the way Danielle followed her initial greeting with a “so, how you doing” that she had some mundane task for her, that she couldn’t find anyone else to do. Without waiting for an answer, Danielle got right to it. “I got word from legal that they gave final approval on the proposal we’ve been working on for the last 2 months, you know the one, and we’ll need 20 copies, printed and collated for our meeting Monday morning. I went looking for Chris but he had to leave early. Something with his kid, so do you mind?” As if Sharon had any choice. “Sure, she said,” as she opened the file on her computer. Her manager stopped her.
“Since it’s a sizable job,” Danielle began,”and we don’t want to tie up the printers here, you’ll have to use the other printer. Yeah, I know, it’s a pain in the ass having to walk all the way to Timbuktu but at least you won’t be interrupted by anyone else who has to print something, am I right?” she said rather sympathetically.
“You do make a valid point,” Sharon replied.
“Great. When you’re done just drop them on my desk. Now I gotta run. Bunch of phone calls to make.” Danielle tapped Sharon’s desk as she left, finishing with “You’re the best, Shari.” Sharon leaned over her cubicle wall and watched Danielle as she headed down the corridor, then popped back down. “Then again, you’re not heading to Timbuktu,” she said to herself as she picked up her phone and headed for “the other printer”.
The “other printer” was more than just another printer and the Timbuktu reference was fairly accurate. The main print room located within the office suite itself was in a bright and airy space, with two state-of-the-art printers at the office’s disposal. A wall of windows overlooking the manicured grounds of the commercial park where Sharon’s company was located allowed in plenty of natural light. Meanwhile the “other printer” was located on the other side of the building. One had to leave the firm’s office suite, walk past the elevator lobby, turn right down a corridor where the freight elevator and stairwell A was located, then through a set of fire doors, down a long nondescript corridor, turn left down another shorter corridor, then swipe their company ID at that door to gain entry into what was a rather drab unoccupied section of the floor full of unused cubicles, office chairs and sundry other office-related particulars. Once one navigated their way through the labyrinth of cubicles they would arrive at their destination — a large storeroom that served as the print room where the “other printer” sat waiting for the arrival of whatever employee was tasked with using it.
Sharon smiled at the oblivious receptionist as she walked through the glass doors leading out to the elevator bank. Her heels clicked on the floor as she turned right, passed the freight elevator and pushed open the fire doors leading into the corridor. Reaching her destination, she swiped her ID card and stepped inside.
“Fuckin’ great,” she muttered to herself as she pushed aside some empty boxes maintenance might someday get around to throwing out. Several of the overhead fluorescent lights weren’t working (another item on maintenance’s to-do list) and the window shades were closed which only added to the space’s dim gloominess. Weaving in and around the cubicles, Sharon finally reached the print room. She turned the door handle and stepped in.
“Hello, old friend,” she said as she turned on the lights. She fired up the printer and computer monitored and waited while both booted up. As she logged into the corporate account, a flashing light on the printer screen indicated it was out of paper. “Fuckin’ figures,” she grumbled. Looking around, she spotted several reams sitting on top of the steel shelves that were also in the room. Unfortunately they were just out of reach of her 5 ft 6 body. A vintage desk provided her a solution. As she began to climb on top of it, she kicked off her shoes. Heels probably weren’t the footwear of choice when clambering atop office furniture, especially the slick top of an all metal desk. Neither was the tailored dress she was wearing. After transferring several reams to the desktop, she climbed down, noting how cool the linoleum floor felt under her bare feet. Sharon then reloaded the printer, found the necessary file on the company server, made the correct selections and hit “print”.
The linoleum floor felt kind of nice. While she would often take her shoes off while at her desk, walking around barefoot in the office wasn’t something one would consider “professional”. But here it was different. Here, away from everyone else, Sharon could take off her shoes. As the printer hummed along, Sharon’s frustrated mind began to wander. Taking off her shoes was one thing, Sharon thought to herself, but what about taking off… Sharon shook the thought from her head. She was at work, for goodness sakes. Then again, she was all the way on the other side of the building. Alone. And as her manager said, nobody to interrupt you. And since she had broken up with her asshole boyfriend several months prior, and sworn off dating for a (long) while, currently silicone and the internet were her only sexual outlets. The steamy notion reentered her head. The mere idea of doing something so wickedly salacious led to a warm feeling between her thighs. The pretty blonde stepped out into the cubicle room away from the sounds of the printer and listened.
Nothing. The warm feeling began to spread. She recalled how watching videos and reading stories about impulsive women engaging in the risky act she was now seriously contemplating really turned her on. So why not experience that exact feeling first hand, especially when the opportunity presents itself?
Sharon returned to the printer room and leaned against the desk. First she pulled off her work ID, clipped to a lanyard hanging around her neck, and dropped it on the desk. Then her hands wandered to the belt around her dress, unbuckling it. She pulled it off and tossed it behind her. Her fingers began to fiddle with the buttons on her dress, undoing one, then another until her dress fell open, revealing her powder blue panties and white bra. Using one hand to hold her dress open, Sharon’s other hand wandered down her flat belly to the waistband of her underwear. She teasingly ran a fingertip just inside the elastic band, inhaling deeply at just how horny she’d become.
Eyes rolling back into her head, Sharon gently stroked herself over her now damp panties. Gently moaning, she shrugged her dress off, letting it slide down her arms and onto the floor. Stepping away from the desk Sharon, wearing just her underwear, walked over to the door of the print room. Standing in the doorway, she looked out into the open space, then turned and glanced at her discarded dress, belt and shoes. Any second thoughts about what she was doing vanished as Sharon suddenly felt the need to be completely naked. As in right now. Reaching behind her back, she deftly unclipped her bra, pulling it off and tossing it aside. The nipples on her perky B-cup breasts, already hard as little pink pebbles, seemed to get even stiffer. One hand groped her breasts while the other slid into her little panties.
“Oh, God,” she said as she cupped her warm sex. She pulled out her creamy fingers and sensually licked them, then inserted her thumbs into the elastic waistband and pushed her underwear past her cute little ass and let them slide down her long legs. Stepping out of them, Sharon relished this new and naughty feeling. But something didn’t feel right. She needed to be even more naked. As in completely naked. Head-to-toe naked. So she removed her watch and her bracelets, then pulled off the hairband that was keeping her ponytail in place. The only thing she was wearing was her black-framed eyeglasses, which gave her a slutty librarian look. Fluffing out her long blonde hair, Sharon moaned in bare naked delight. Her arousal was already leaving a slick sheen on the inside of her thighs.
Sharon stepped away from the doorway and into the main area. The cool floor gave way to a soft warm carpeting as a very turned on Sharon began to wander about the empty cubicles. The dingy condition of the room made her feel extra dirty. By now her body was at peak sensitivity as she skillfully edged herself, knowing how intense the end result would be. Her roaming around eventually led her to the main door that led out to the corridor. Turning around, she could see the open door of the print room, where every stitch of her clothes were. The room and her clothes seemed miles away. Turning back to the door, Sharon slowly and quietly opening it, then slipped into the empty corridor. Reaching back into the room, she pulled one of the empty boxes she’d cursed earlier over to the door to keep it open. After all, if the door suddenly closed she wouldn’t be able to get back in. Her ID card was back in the print room.
Along with every stitch of her clothes. The thought made her tingle with nervous arousal.
As Sharon slunk down the corridor further and further from all her clothes, she kept glancing back to the partially opened door, a strategically placed box the only thing saving her from the utter humiliation of having to explain why she was completely naked at work. Still, Sharon couldn’t help but imagine the weight of the door causing the box to slip ever so slightly, with that one little teeny tiny slip leading to another, then another, until the door suddenly closed shut, locking her out as naked as the day she was born. The very idea was so arousing she could feel her sex quivering. Sharon eventually reached the end of the corridor. Peeking around the corner, she could see the fire doors all the way at the far end. Did she dare?
A very naked Sharon stepped out into the longer hall. It seemed some carnal force was gently moving her along as she crept closer and closer to the two doors. A glance down and behind her revealed the telltale signs of just how aroused she was — drips of her juices glistened on the tile floor. It was at this point when she was most vulnerable that Sharon might have been the most aroused. If somebody suddenly came through those doors she’d have nowhere to run or hide. Instead she’d be completely exposed in all her naked glory.
She finally reached the fire doors, her sex screaming for release. Looking through the glass window, Sharon could see the freight elevator and the bright red exit sign for the stairwell. Beyond that and right around the corner would be the elevator lobby. And just past that, the glass doors to her company. Her body purposefully leaned against the push bar of the fire door. It slowly opened. Sharon stepped one bare foot out past the doorway. Than the other. Her entire naked body followed. “Oh, God,” she whispered to herself.
Sharon was barely a 20 second walk to her office. If anyone just happened to wander around the corner, they’d be greeted by the stark naked blonde’s peachy ass as she felt herself up while pressing her naked breasts against the cold metal of a fire door, relishing in how stimulating it felt on her rock hard nipples. They might even notice that her dripping sex was leaving small wet spots on the floor between her bare feet. All kinds of erotic images were racing through Sharon’s mind, all of them involving her getting caught, trying to hide her shame while the moisture seeping through her fingers betrayed her true intent. She imagined entering the stairwell or summoning the freight elevator, taking her nude escapade to another floor. She pictured herself being discovered and subsequently marched through the office bare-assed naked while her shocked coworkers ogled her. She’d be bent over the conference room table and spanked on her bare ass where she’d cum in an uncontrollable orgasm which would only add to her already extreme shame and arousal.
“Oh, God,” Sharon muttered again. She was nearing the point of no return and needed immediate release, and this most certainly not being the place for that hurriedly slipped back into the corridor, quietly closed the door and hastened back to where she’d come. She’d barely rounded the corner when the first pulses of her orgasm began to wash over her. Even before she could plunge her fingers back between her legs her sexual energy began to spill from her swollen lips. Sharon began fervently rubbing herself, her orgasm puddling onto the cold tile floor. She had to use her free hand to cover her mouth and stifle her cries of pleasure. Shockingly, that orgasm wasn’t enough.
The idea that she had just masturbated completely naked in her office building like some wanton slut had turned her on like she’d never been turned on before. Heading back down the corridor, she hurriedly pushed open the door leading back to the printer. Thankfully it had remained open. As it securely closed behind her, Sharon hurried back into the maze of cubicles and mounted the first office chair she saw, using the smooth plastic armrest as an ad-hoc sex toy.
“Oh, God, oh fuck,” she kept repeating as she molested herself while grinding her swollen pussy along the chair’s arm, madly humping it like a dog in heat. Probing fingers found her swollen clit, others teased her puckered rose bud. She was no longer the well-educated professional her company admired. She was reduced to nothing but a shameless slut, exposing and abusing herself to satisfy her own primal desires. After a while the frustration that had been bottled up inside her was released in a guttural “ohjesusfuckingchrist” tidal wave of sheer orgasmic bliss that Sharon wished would go on forever. When it finally subsided Sharon slumped over the now saturated chair to catch her breath. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this sexually exhilarated.
Once her breathing had slowed down to normal she noticed the copier was quiet. Either it was out of paper again or it was finished. She stumbled over to the room to find out. It was finished. Thankfully there was a restroom in the area which Sharon could use to clean herself up. She half expected to look like the aftermath of a drunken gang-bang, but surprisingly she didn’t look that bad. Once presentable and professional-looking again, she collected the collated copies and reluctantly got dressed. But not completely as she stuffed her panties into her pocket. With plenty of new-found verve Sharon strolled back into the office, smiling and greeting her colleagues and wondering if they noticed her post-orgasm radiance. Of course they didn’t.
Walking into Danielle’s office she triumphantly held up the copies, then placed them on her desk. Her smiling supervisor looked up from her phone call and responded with an appreciative thumbs up.
Later that day as she she drove home, Sharon kept thinking back to how lewd and lascivious she felt prancing around at work totally nude and playing with herself, and how satisfied she’d felt afterward. Could the risk of being so naked and naughty in public, and the vision of such humiliating fantasies really have that kind of thrilling affect on her?
There was only one way to find out.
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