Overtime (9 page)

Valerie was on high alert walking back to the office, certain that the panties would begin vibrating at any moment, even though she vaguely remembered reading once that the remote only had a range of about twenty feet. But then again, Mr. Declan could be anywhere. By the time she got on the elevator she was jumpy and nervous; by the time she reached her desk, she thought her heart might beat right out of her chest.

An hour passed. Nothing happened.

Around three, Mr. Declan came out of the elevator and she watched him walk all the way in, through the glass doors, toward her. He stopped and said something to another assistant, then took a right and headed into the designer’s wing where he stood at the door to an office, nodding and speaking. Valerie pretended to do work, searching for a venue for the board meeting, but even five seconds her eyes flicked back to him. Was he reaching into his pocket? His jacket pocket? Where did he keep the remote—on him, in his desk, somewhere else entirely?

Finally he walked back toward his own office, going right by her desk.

“Good afternoon, Valerie,” he said, giving her the same nod that he always did.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Declan,” she said, trying to sound normal, as though it were any Monday.

He went into his office and left the door open.

At three-thirty, her chair creaked and Valerie thought it was the vibrator for a split second.

At four fifteen, she got up and went to the restroom, feeling the little bullet nestled next to her clit for the entire walk, cool and firm and arousing.

At four thirty, she began to feel disappointed.

It wasn’t until four fifty-five that it finally turned on. Valerie nearly jumped out of her chair with surprise. The buzz was perfectly quiet, muffled by her flesh and her chair, but snuggled right next to her clitoris, the powerful vibrations running directly through her.

She was absolutely positive that everyone in her open-plan office had seen her jump and somehow knew that she was wearing remote-control vibrating panties, controlled by her boss. Valerie froze and locked her eyes on her computer screen, sitting perfectly still, the wonderful low buzzing working its way through her cunt.

The sensation began to build, and she looked quickly at Camille, but the other girl seemed hard at work on something, even though they had four minutes before leaving. She swallowed and took a deep breath as unwanted thoughts began to leak in: the thought of Mr. Declan, back in his office, one thumb on the remote control; Mr. Declan, coming out of his office and bending her over her own desk in full view of everyone.

Then, the vibrating cut off. Valerie blinked, disappointed, and forced herself not to turn around and look at Mr. Declan. She waited, pussy aching, pretending to look at mansions in the Hamptons.

The vibrator cut on, suddenly, and then off again—and on and off, on and off in a pulse. Valerie squirmed in her seat and tried not to, wanting to get the best possible angle for it against her clit, trying to move it around, wishing it would just stay on permanently. Finally she put one foot under her and discreetly nudged the vibrator with one heel, only for it to cut off again.

Frustrated, she looked back at Jasper’s office. He sat there serenely, looking at his computer screen, refusing to make eye contact with her. A full minute passed, and Valerie stood, adjusted her skirt, and sat back down.

Just as everyone was getting up to leave, walking past her desk, it came back on, stronger than before. Valerie gripped her mouse in one hand, tightening the other into a fist, determinedly looking at her computer screen, trying to act normal and smile at everyone leaving.

“Night, Valerie,” said Camille, walking through the double doors.

“Night,” said Valerie, her face feeling like a tight mask as the delicious feeling in her cunt grew, threatening to build to an orgasm.

“Don’t work too late!” This was Michael, the nice, bearded guy who was the head of Design.

Valerie could only smile back at him and clamp down her pussy muscles, doing her very best not to come until he was out the door.

She grit her teeth together and crossed her legs, lodging it firmly against her clit in her folds. Valerie tried to breathe evenly, tried to relax, even as her eyes kept threatening to close and her hand was gripping the mouse so hard she was a little afraid it would crack.

The vibrator stopped again.

Goddammit!
Valerie nearly shouted. She clenched her jaw tighter and looked at her computer screen again, waiting for it to come back on.

She waited.

A few more coworkers walked past her desk, all saying their various good nights. She nodded at them, distracted.

As the glass door opened, it started again and her eyes drifted shut with relief, hoping that maybe this time she’d get to finish. It started on low and then built quickly to top speed, vibrating so hard Valerie felt like her teeth might be rattling, then going back down to low speed again, back and forth, the rhythm of it quickly bringing her to the edge and then back, every repetition more frustrating.

Then it stopped, again. Without realizing what she was even doing, Valerie turned around and looked at Mr. Declan over her shoulder, her eyes wide, her face flushed. She could feel sweat making its way between her breasts and they made eye contact for a few seconds before he nodded and went back to looking at his computer screen.

Valerie thought she might cry from frustration.

As soon as she turned back to her computer the vibrator came on high again and stayed there, and it didn’t take more than thirty seconds before Valerie started coming, gripping the edge of her desk in her hands and grinding her teeth together as she came in full view of her coworkers, or at least the ones who hadn’t gone home yet. She tried desperately to act like nothing was going on, or like maybe she was a little surprised by an email she’d read, but what she really wanted to do was tear her shirt open and scream Mr. Declan’s name.

Fuck me, Mr. Declan
was on the tip on her tongue, but she swallowed it, opened her eyes again as the orgasm subsided. She ran her hands through her hair, trying to collect herself, and the vibrator turned off again.

It was 5:03. Valerie shut down her computer, gathered her things, and headed for the door without looking back at Mr. Declan again. She was still wearing the panties and thought that at any moment, they might turn off, jerking all her muscles involuntarily and making her fall over in her high heels, but she made it to the glass doors and then to the elevator, limbs still shaky and face and neck still a little sweaty from the experience.

When the elevator came, no one was on it, a little strange for 5pm in an office building.
 

As the doors were just about to shut, a hand stopped them.

They opened to reveal Jasper Declan standing there, cool as a cucumber.

Valerie swallowed.

“Going home?” he asked, casually, as he entered and hit the ground floor button. The doors slid shut.

“I am,” Valerie said, standing up straight, trying to hide the fact that her knees felt wobbly and she was sure he had the remote still in his pocket.

“Is 5:04 too late for our arrangement?”

He looked at her with an intensity she was coming to recognize. It took her breath away, just for a moment, every time she saw it. She tried to act confident, to keep the quaver of desire out of her voice.

“I think 5:04 is fine.”

Without warning, Jasper hit the bright red emergency stop button and the elevator lurched, its downward progress halted, both the 15 and 16 lights lit.

Then, very calmly, he removed his suit jacket and hung it neatly over the hand rail.

“Open your shirt,” he said, as he unbuttoned his cuffs and began to roll them up.

Obediently, heart pounding, Valerie put down her handbag and jacket and began at the top button of her blouse, loosening it and the next
 
four, all the way down to her waist, revealing a white bra with scalloping around the edges and a slight flower pattern on the cups. Jasper watched hungrily, never taking his eyes from her as if he was drinking in every single detail of the moment.

With both hands, Jasper reached into her bra cups, grasping one large breast in each hand, and then lifted them over the top of the bra, crushing the cups below their weight, her nipples just visible above them. She was backed against the mirrored wall of the elevator as he lightly ran his fingers over the nipples, playing with them, squeezing her breasts. Valerie could see a bulge in his pants.

He pulled away and turned her around, holding her in front of him, the two of them facing the mirror, his head next to hers, staring into her eyes still. One hand disappeared into his pocket and came back with a small black plastic device with a slider on it, and he held it out in front of Valerie.

She knew what it was. With his other hand he touched her breast, rolling the nipple between his fingers, firmly kneading it. Valerie watched in the mirror, loved watching him with his sleeves rolled up, her half-naked, him doing whatever he wanted to her here, in this half-public place where firemen could probably break in at any moment.

“Mr. Declan,” she sighed, leaning back into him.

“Did you get your pussy waxed like a good girl?” he asked.

“Find out,” she said, meeting his eyes in the mirror, and then smiling a little.

With his other hand he grabbed the hem of her skirt and pulled it up, roughly, to her waist, exposing the lace panties she was wearing. He ran one finger delicately along the junction of panty and skin, feeling the soft, smooth surface of her after her wax. Then he dipped his fingers under the fabric, running them along her pussy, still wet from before and getting wetter.

Watching in the mirror, Valerie moaned lightly.

“Put your foot on the handrail,” he said, and without questioning him, she somehow balanced on one foot while bending her knee and perching the other foot on the handrail, exposing her crotch to the mirror, both of them looking at it.

“Beautiful,” he said, moving the panties aside slightly, his eyes taking it all in from the mirror. His thumb moved on the plastic remote, sending a hard buzz through Valerie’s core. She jumped and yelped.

“Shhh,” Jasper said. He smiled.

“Sorry, Mr. Declan,” Valerie said in a voice that was half-whisper, half moan.

Instead of answering he plunged two fingers into her waiting cunt, making sure not to move the vibrator off of her clit, moving them around and massaging her g-spot as the vibrator hummed and hummed. It didn’t take Valerie long to get to the brink.

Suddenly, the elevator’s call box crackled to life.

“What’s your emergency?” a woman’s voice asked, thick with a New Jersey accent.

Valerie’s eyes widened in surprise. Neither the vibrator or the fingers let up, even for a moment.

“No emergency,” said Jasper in a perfectly reasonable voice that gave no indication he had two fingers up his assistant’s cunt. “Hit the button by accident. My apologies.” He pinched her nipple again. Valerie made a soft whimper and a gasp, and Jasper looked at her in the mirror, piercingly, studying her whole body.

“All right,” said the disembodied voice. “Gimme a minute, we’ll have you moving again.”

“Thank you so much,” Jasper said, and turned the vibrator up to max.

“Oohhhhh,” Valerie moaned, unable to stop herself any longer. Between the fingers and the vibrator, she couldn’t hold out and the delicious feeling overtook her, balancing on one foot, and she came hard, feeling her pussy muscles spasm on Mr. Declan’s fingers, practically falling backward against him, unable to stand properly upright any longer. The entire time she could see herself, tits out and shirt unbuttoned, skirt hiked up to her waist and bare cunt on full display, in the mirrored wall of the elevator.

When it was over she was breathing hard and Jasper released her, holding her up until she had both feet on the floor again, backing up as she pulled her skirt down and smoothed it, fixed her bra, buttoned up her shirt again.

Just as she did, the elevator lurched again, and continued downward. Decent again, Valerie picked up her jacket and handbag, slightly rattled at what had just happened. The muscles in her cunt were still clenching and unclenching themselves, and she watched Mr. Declan roll down his shirt sleeves and put his jacket on again, finishing just as the doors to the lobby opened.

He looked over at her and nodded, just like any boss to his assistant.

“Have a good night,” he said, and walked into the lobby ahead of her, reaching the big revolving doors and then turning left, the opposite way she did when she walked to the subway stop.

When she got home, she made a quick stir fry dinner of her leftovers and ate standing at the kitchen sink, thinking about what had just happened, unable to make heads or tails of it. So far, being Mr. Declan’s submissive seemed okay: orgasms were great, and they felt especially good when they were out of her control, it turned out. She didn’t think she’d ever get tired of the hungry way he looked at her, or of the sexual acrobatics she thought she might be in for.

On the other hand, it wouldn’t do for her coworkers to find out about this. Head of the firm or not, if someone else found out she was fucking her boss—or, at least, doing sex stuff with her boss, since they hadn’t actually fucked yet—she’d probably never worked in New York advertising again.

She scraped the scraps off of her plate and into the garbage, washed the plate and put it in her tiny dish rack. Then, finally, she took off her panties, removed the bullet vibrator, and washed them very carefully, by hand, hanging them in her shower. She felt a thrill, just looking at them, hanging there.

The vibrator itself she left in her underwear drawer, where she’d leave it until told to wear it again.