bleh

Work is a bitch, definitely. 

There's a boat load of reports– they climb your desk and everyone elses, sometimes you walk in and consider jumping out the window in an any% suicide speedrun. Those sleep deprived nights and coffee fueled days all become worth it at the end.

And by end, you obviously mean in the middle of the work day. Where you and your favourite co-worker find an opportunity to have a break, hiding in whatever unoccupied space you two can find. It’s been an established thing for a while now, you and Yena had a moment in the bi-annual ‘please stay with us party’ with some non-alcoholic beverage that was spiked with something certainly alcoholic. It motivated her to make a bold decision, a kiss and a blur.

She ended up in your bed that night. 

Things shifted from that point, Yena got braver. She’s never explicitly stated if she likes you or she just likes to please, she doesn’t tell and you don’t pry. 

Today's private space of choice is the janitor's closet, small and devoid of people. It’s dimly lit and reeks of bleach but it does get the job done.

She's all giggly when she descends to the floor, her presence forces you against the door. It's locked, you quadruple checked. "Have you done any of your papers yet?" she asks, fiddling with your zip.

You sigh, the answer is yes because you got here early– get home at 11pm, get there just before dawn and haul ass. "Barely, feels like the pile hasn't budged."

"That's because it hasn't." She states, your office trousers sit in a pile by your feet. Yena gives you that same excited, slightly needy look. It's her that started this and her who continues it. She has an oral fixation that she always tries to keep satiated. From the lollipops she crams in her desk, to the straws she has for every drink. 

To the cock currently in her hand.

"Work's a bitch." You groan, partly because of the statement and partly because she's dribbling over your tip. Her soft hand stroking it with twisty motions. It feels incredible, looks incredible. Her office outfit, the blazer mainly– she looks so professional and so ruinable.

"Tell me about it, we only have 5 minutes if we get coffee."

"How much time if we don't?"

"We're getting coffee." Yena wastes no further time, her hungry expression being satisfied when your tip slides in between her lips. She doesn't have time to be slow, your cock is already hitting the back of her throat. She sucks and slurps, getting you messy. Your hands claw at the wall despite wanting to ruin her hair, not enough time to fix it.

"F-fuck." It's suffocatingly warm, half trapped in her slick mouth and the other half being squeezed and pumped. She moves quickly, thoughts of work and the timer disappear and crumble to dust when Yena bobs her head up and down.

Yena hollows her cheeks, a tandem act with her fingers. You moan and struggle, Yena sucks faster at your sounds. "You really want this coffee huh?"

She doesn’t laugh but instead keeps her lips firmly around your length. She was desperate for you to cum, her other hand reaching to massage your balls. Yena takes advantage of the overwhelming stimulation, your coworker knows exactly when you are about to cum. No need to vocalise it here at least, under different circumstances she wants to hear it.

Right now she wants you to cum and not get caught.

So she braces herself, working just a bit harder. Closing her eyes as you begin to throb, the orgasm hits you like a truck. Body locking up stiff as Yena's mouth gets filled with your pent up load, the stuff you've been holding while far too busy to even make five minutes. She's a professional in everything though, taking it without so much as a struggle.

When she's done, she gets off her knees. Unable to resist the urge to kiss you so you can taste how well a job she did. "I didn't get any on my outfit right?"

The excuse is pretty obvious, she twirls around and despite the fact most of her body is clad in office attire that leaves practically everything for the imagination she's still the hottest woman ever conceived. If you had the time she’d have her bottom half removed and you’d go to town, alas, the minutes are up so you'll have to settle for the imagination and the opportunity to touch her before saying a simple no.

"Good, it's annoying to wash out at a sink. Time for coffee!" She's swapped back to her normal bubbly office mode, the one that would make nobody suspect she just blew someone inside the janitor's closet. She leaves first and you wait thirty seconds before promptly following.

The office floor feels the same as before you left, unsurprising given your break was painfully short. It’s loud with its standard fluorescent hospital lights.Yena’s already back at her desk, looking like she’s been there for hours. She’s got her blazer back on, another lollipop and she’s typing up a storm with the focus of a girl who definitely did not just have her throat full in the janitor's closet.

And the coffee was the last remotely enjoyable part before you two had to lock in. Even though you work right next to each other most of the time there was no room to have a conversation, first off– your boss seemed hellbent to put a knife to the atmosphere, make sure no joy was happening on her dime.

Then there was just all of the work, you could take a building, double it then double that and still you'd probably run out of room. It's not just the quantity or even the quality you have to produce, it's just so fucking boring. This should be illegal, how repetitive this is. Money talks and you can't pay rent on your desires to abolish the concept of reports.

So, you get it done.

With a few shushed conversations in between, words may not be banned but are sure heavily discouraged. "So... why do you think our boss is always so uptight?" You ask with your head still buried in work, "I swear she wasn't like this."

"She wasn't. It's a stressful time with everything going on. Her bonus relies on us doing well." Yena replies, scribbling something. "Perhaps she should try a similar arrangement to ours, lots of co-workers call her smoking fucking hot."

"You agree though, I see the way you stare at her tits in that shirt.” You jab, it’s no secret. Yena becomes a cartoon with outstretched eyes whenever your boss bends over. “Imagine that, maybe we wouldn't be whispering."

“Shhh… it’s not so obvious right?”

“Super fucking obvious.”

And you two continued until dinner time, where you two finally got another break. Not to fuck, you two aren’t that depraved. Grabbing a quick bite to gossip over before walking yourself back into hell. Or perhaps purgatory would be more apt, hell implies active torture.

Post-dinner quickly became a deep night. The tapping of office equipment slowly disappeared, people vanished and the AC shuts off. Past the time they are willing to pay for, everyone has left. Except for you and Yena, it’s sort of your obligation to work to the bone.

Yena had taken off her blazer and had it donned over her chair. Sipping on another coffee, caffeine is her lifeblood at this point. The lack of focus was clear as day, she's twiddling with her thumbs, radiating ennui and spending more time stargazing than anything else.

"We could just go home." You say bluntly, the only reason you are here is for her and the inverse seems true. "It's a big enough dent."

She stretches and looks at you like you suggested something royally ridiculous. "No way, but we can stop working."

It's your turn to look weird.

"Think about it, we're on the clock sure. But who's going to know what we are up to?" She gets off her chair, 'towering' over you with a playful smirk on her face. "Exactly, you already get the picture."

"So you want to get paid to suck dick?"

"Wouldn't be the first time…"

"what?"

"what?"

You don't know how to transition from that, Yena leans forward and gives you one lone peck on the lips. Letting the taste of coffee on her breath hit yours, it's palatable when it's her. It lasts awhile, no longer being rushed to work and able to enjoy the moment.

Yena pulls away, dropping herself to one knee. Her hands are eager even with the given time. "Mmh, I was thinking about this. Five minutes was not enough." All barriers to the cock she wanted were gone. "Bet you were thinking about it more though."

"Only work." You lie, it gets a pout and her hand dry pumps your shaft. You relax into your chair, this is stress relief you plan to enjoy.

"Meanie." Her hand is replaced with her tongue, she eyes your cock like a prize– a snack that's been hidden away. She licks upwards one side of your length at a time, leaving a thin layer of saliva in her wake. "You were thinking of it, the way my lips will feel. How badly you wanted to grab this fucking ponytail and force my head down."

Fuck. The thought breathes out involuntarily between your lips, she gives a few more slow licks to the base and ensures it's well lubricated. "Maybe I thought about it once or twice…"

"All day maybe." She gives one swipe over the pre-cum pooling out, her plush lips closing around your tip. Her desire is palpable and exciting, she craves your taste like candy. Her hand is just as soft, working in tandem with her mouth. No matter how many times she sucks you off, no matter how often she makes you cum. It's just as exhilarating as the first time.

"You look cute."