"No lunch today," says the private message from you on yahoo messenger. "I
o get off bad".
My heart starts to beat faster just reading those words, knowing what they
usually mean. From then on I hardly trate on my work, my mind
helplessly wandering to similar situations, previous occasions on which you
had sent just such a message to me. You must have noticed it, too, for a
few minutes later another message flashes on my s. "You look like you
hardly wait. You' re such a transparent little slut." My hardening cock
twiches. Shame overes me as I drop my gaze meekly to the floor.
Whehers finally ask me out to lunch I politely dee, saying that
I had a late breakfast and that I want to finish some extra stuff. Some of
them look dowically at me, while a couple ive me advice.
"Don' t work too hard, man," Jason tells me with a pat on my back followed
by a knowing gla you, who seems to be engrossed in some reports on
your desk, sitting across the aisle, four cubicles away. I feel my heart
give a lurch as Jason tinues on his way. Does he know? Do the others
know? I' ve always feared that, in your wild and frequent desires to take
me, somebody might have seen or heard something. If wot out..
Ohe others are all gone, you look up from your reports and gaze over
at me seriously. I only wait, petrified to my chair as you stand up and
saunter slowly over to my cubicle, rubbing your obvious bulge lewdly as you
do so. I know all about that huge monster you pa your pants. It' s
long, it' s thid it' s always hungry.
"Stand up and strip," you and me, your tone brooking . You
are always supremely fident that I will obey you, as if you have a
divine right to be obeyed by me anytime, anywhere. And you do. I have no
choice but to obey. Pushing my chair baervously, I stand up - my small
young asian