11th
Sometimes I write things for reasons I can’t explain.
GOD, today sucks, he thought, staring idly at the screen. He couldn’t tell if it was the ADD he always denied he had, or the sheer boredom of it all, but in the four hours he had been at work, he hadn’t managed to complete a single task.
Work was piling up, and all he wanted to do was go home.
Four more hours, he groaned to himself, looking at his watch, not even I can fake looking busy that long.
He pushed away from his desk and leaned back in his chair. The chair loudly squeaked his approval as he leaned back and stretched his arms. He came back with a thud, producing a louder squeak from the chair.
He could feel the chair inviting him to give it a good squeak once more, but he knew it would quickly become bothersome to his coworkers. It was an invitation he knew he should not accept. He resigned himself to continue his attempt to look busy for the rest of the day.
But as he pulled his chair forward to his desk, it caused a slight rocking motion in the chair, and again the chair extended a welcoming toot.
Okay, he thought to himself, just for a little bit..
He stood up in his cubicle, but only so much as to peer over and sweep the immediate area. The closest three cubicles were empty. The only one who might hear him goofing around was Lauren, and even she seemed unusually engrossed in her work. As she leaned into the spreadsheet for more intense study, her breasts seemed to inch their way out of her blouse. She sighed, sliding her bosom up and down her desk. A sudden bulge in his pants became apparent to him, and he quickly slumped down into his chair, which squeaked once more on his re-entry.
He started off slow, rocking gently back and forth. The chair uttered a melodic twittering as he rocked. A smile crept over his face and he continued, faster now, the squeak of the chair becoming quite hypnotic.
He drifted.
He was inside her now, thrusting hard and deep. She moaned in time with the squeaking of the mattress, urging him to grind harder. Gripping her hips with his hands, he pushed harder…
*thwok*
A sharp pain dragged him back to the mundane scene from which he hoped to escape. The impact from the underside of his desk resonated in his flesh sword, and he smothered his urge to cry out in anguish.
This fucking desk, he winced inside his head, fuck this fucking desk.
The sky darkened in his mind as he unzipped his pants…
“Jack, do you have the estimates for thWHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?” Lauren said, stumbling as she reached his cubicle.
“YEESSS!” he screamed, thrusting his kielbasa of love onto the desk, poking his keyboard with every lunge.
Lauren turned ot run, breaking the heel off of her shoe in her rush to flee the scene. As she ran, she could hear his screams of “OHHH FUCK YOU DESK!!! TAKE IT! TAKE IT ALLLLLLLLLLLLLLLLL!”
Undaunted by the interruption, he continued pumping away, his erection now fueled by pure hatred for the desk to which he laid waste.
As he erupted, man juice shooting haphazardly onto his keyboard, he felt several strong hands grip his arms. As the security team dragged him away, his still rock hard member bouncing outside his pants, a single thought repeated inside his head: FUCK YOU, DESK. FUCK. YOU.
