Office lust

Picture this. A secretary in nothing but black lace snapping at her hips and stockings climbing all the way up those legs. She slips past the desk, heels tapping the floor, and suddenly the quarterly reports can wait. One knee on the chair, one palm flat on the paperwork, she leans in like she’s got every file in town memorized. Boss leans back, tie already loose, letting the spreadsheets stack up untouched while she sorts the rest of the evening by herself. No coffee run needed tonight. She’s already on it.