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He glanced up from his newspaper as she came in, and then briefly at the monitor screens before returning to his paper. Thus he missed the brief smile she gave him. He was vaguely aware of the rustle of plastic as she emptied his waste bin into her black sack, before leaving him in peace. It was after all, just routine.
A few minutes later she was back, trailing her vacuum cleaner behind her like some exotic pet. Again he looked up at her as she plugged it in and switched it on. This time he did see her smile, a little apologetic at disturbing him, and he smiled weakly back before returning to his paper and resuming the article that ran alongside the picture of the leggy blonde.
The insistent noise of the vacuum cleaner irritated and distracted him. He kept looking up to see if she had nearly finished. Well, that would have been his story if anyone had challenged him. In fact he found himself watching her as she bent and stretched pushing the nozzle of her machine into obscure and inaccessible nooks and crannies. She noticed his glazed lascivious looks, and smiled at him artlessly but seeing that he had caught her eye, he simply resumed reading his newspaper with an embarrassed cough.
"You here all night, luv?" she asked absently as she unplugged the machine and started looping the cable.
"Yep," he didn?t look up from his paper.
"Can?t be much fun. When do you knock off?"
"Seven." He still didn?t look up.
"Must get a bit lonely," she said thoughtfully. She had collected all her bits and was ready to go.
He said nothing, just shrugged.
"Listen, I?m parched. I?m going to grab a cup of coffee before I go. D?you want one?"
He looked up at last. She had long curly chestnut hair tied at the back. As she stood before him, he had to admit that she looked attractive. In her cleaners overall and with no make-up, though, she was certainly no film-star. For him such people only existed in pictures next to articles he pretended to read in cheap newspapers, and although she had the advantage that she was real and standing there in front of him, he preferred the safety of the printed image.
A brief break in the story to make an authors note:
S to r y c o p y right belongs to N i c k at c a s s a n d r a dot d e m on dot c o dot u k as should be stated at the top. Sorry for the interruption. Please carry on reading.
She smiled and disappeared into the corridor outside before returning with the coffees.
"Ta, very much," he said.
She sat down on his visitors chair sipping her coffee while he continued reading the paper, wondering vaguely how long it would take her to drink her coffee and go.
"You like this job, then?" she asked breaking the silence.
"S?Okay, I s?pose."
"What?s the pay like?"
More silence. He glanced up at the monitor panel, then carried on reading.
Of course he knew nothing about her. He didn?t know why she was there drinking coffee with him and indeed the question never even occurred to him. He wasn?t to know that home for her was just a lonely bed-sit and that after she finished that night all she had to look forward to was a bus-ride home and yet another night watching the television until she felt tired enough to go to bed.
She simply made him feel slightly awkward. He didn?t see the hungry desperation in her face because he was too absorbed in his newspaper, and even if he had looked at her, he would probably not have registered anything. He had no idea just what was going through her mind as her longing eyes ignored his pot-belly and armpit stains and saw only his sex. As far as he was concerned, she couldn?t possibly be attracted to him. Only Julia Roberts or Demi Moore had ever expressed any desire for him, and then only when his eyes were shut. They had taste and saw him for the real man he was. The ordinary woman was not so perceptive. How could she be?
By chance, as much as anything else, he looked up at her as he turned the page. She sat facing him and was now staring absently at his monitor, her hand resting on her thigh.
>From where he was, he could see a little white triangle between her legs.
Her eyes met his, and this time she did not smile. He nearly missed it and would have moved on to the sports section oblivious, but the movement was there and unmistakable. As he glanced down, he saw that her legs parting slightly, and her hand moving unambiguously upwards.
His eyes widened reflexively and he looked questioningly at her face again. The lack of expression gave him no answers, but as she slowly raised her left foot to the seat, giving him a full view of her sex, barely trapped beneath lace panties, his newspaper slipped to the floor.
He fumbled with his belt, with his fly, and she took a deep breath as his fleshy member sprang from its confines. She slipped her hand inside the top of her overall and under her bra, to pinch at her hardening nipple, biting her lip. Her heart skipped a beat in anticipation as he arose from his chair and advanced towards her, his prick swinging towards her face.
She leaned forward, and pulled him towards her to take his swelling head into her mouth where she flicked it with her tongue. He groaned, pulling himself clear suddenly. She flinched slightly and gasped as she felt his hot fluid spatter across her cheek. Withdrawing her hand from her breast, she collected his semen with her fingers and, with a eyes closed, proceeded to rub it into her breast.
She cried out loud, thrusting her hips forward as she slid her other hand inside her panties. She was all but oblivious of him as he re-zipped his fly and walked uncertainly back to his chair. Her fingers desperately manipulated her engorged clitoris and spread her delicate moist folds for him, but he simply retrieved his newspaper. Her hips bucked convulsively with her approaching orgasm as he started to read with disappointment how the Arsenal had lost to Wimbledon.
When she had finished herself off, she sat there for a moment, her soaked panties now a source of discomfort and embarrassment. As the warm sensations of passion wore off, she began to feel dirty and humiliated. Slowly she marshalled her thoughts and feelings, to direct them at what now became the object of her loathing. She looked at him venomously, seeing now the pot-belly and armpit stains, as he concentrated ferociously on why his favourite team had lost so dismally.
"Well," and she cleared her throat, trying to keep her voice even, ?I?ll be going now, then.?
There seemed to be no more for her to say or do. He could only bring himself to nod.
She rose from the damp visitors chair and left his office walking slowly down the empty corridors to the building?s entrance to sign out and leave. She seemed unaware of the whirring of the motors on the monitor cameras which followed her. Her bowed figure moved from screen to screen on his monitor station as he watched her go. Something stirred within him, but he wasn?t sure what it was and as she faded from view there was less and less he could do about it anyway.
He returned to his newspaper.