[WORK FROM HOME FICTION]
Is it professional respect, sexual chemistry or even both? We seem to be talking quite a bit recently, enough to make me wonder if there’s more to this interaction. After three weeks in the new role and all there required manager orientation, certain themes stand out loud and clear; no fraternizing with staff! No after work drinks hookups, no closet room rendezvous or photocopier explotes. Nothing without notification of HR.
Is not the forbidden not always the most tempting.
With all the rushing about, arranging staff to work from home and supporting the wider business to do the same, time has been a blur. All kinky thoughts and fantasies fading into the same blur.
With things settling down, team meetings all virtual including afternoon tea breaks, a familiar feeling returns. Daily one on one checkings, that glint in their eye and that warm tone in their voice. Surely this is more than work related engagement and team mate check-ins, my imagination goes into overdrive.
It’s still dark, early in morning and I wander over to my impromptu home office catching up on the overnight activity. I sit down wearing a t-shirt and boxers chuckling to myself about my work from home attire. An hour later, I think that I need to get ready for the day and get dressed or at least put trousers on.
A familiar ping echos from my computer speakers, it’s them. “Hey, how are you today? Do you have a few minutes to join me for a virtual coffee x”.
Is that a kiss? I should not answer. I do. “Hi, sure, I’m just about to get some :-)”. A telepresence alert pops up on the screen, I accept. My heart races, I can barely let out an audible “Hi”. They pop up in front of me, slightly messy hair which is tied up, loose fitting jumper, and a steaming mug displaying the words “up for it” with a big arrow pointing to the rim of the mug.
My mind screamed “THIS IS DANGEROUS TERRITORY!!!”, it was too late. I had to shift my position, the fabric of my boxers under strain as my body lost all control to this brooding temptation.
Reaching into my boxers and stroking the building desire, is akin to rubbing the lamp and letting loose the genie. It takes all my focus to keep the genie under some measure of control, all I wish for is that my conversation continues with some coherence and the movement of my hand not giving my actions away.
“Catch you later”, click and the call is ended, however the genie is far from sated. “This is the last time, OK” I lie to myself before seeing to the need and taking things properly in hand.