She knows what she is doing. She knows I am sitting in my office, trying to work. The teasing texts progressing gradually into the realms of hot fantasy.

Her and my wife. Her and me and my wife. Filthy fantasies that drive me to distraction.

I am trying so hard to read an important message mail. But my eyes are glazing, my heart is thumping and I am full of adrenalin and lust. There is a tightness in my suit trousers that is uncomfortable and also pleasurable.

I try again with the email. I pick up a pen and drop it into my tea as another text comes through.

“I think you should go to the bathroom.”

I am actually blushing. My trousers get tighter as my cock swells in my pants. She is telling me to go to the bathroom and jerk off. My head is full of images of my wife going down on her while she sucks my cock. Or the other way around. Filthy, teasing bitch.

I try to ignore her, to get back to my bulging inbox. But there is a bulge elsewhere that is demanding more urgent attention. I can feel a slight tremor in my hand as I try to move my mouse. A colleague knocks on the door.

She comes in with a cup of tea. I am sitting at my desk, slightly shaky, with a full erection. I self consciously cover my lap and say thank you. It comes out a bit high and my colleague smiles and asks if I’m ok. I nod and go back to my screen. She leaves.

I managed to reply something incoherent. She repeats her advice to go to the bathroom. Advice? Who am I kidding! This is an instruction.

I stand up and am mortified to see the shape of my hard on protruding. I pick up a file and hold itmin front of me. Her teasing, her control, makes me throb in a way I really don’t want to right now.

I shuffle out of my office, file awkwardly held in front of me. My whole team sit at their desks in the open plan area and I scuttle past, my dirty secret unknown to them. Maybe they wonder at my peculiar gait and slightly flustered manner.

The bathrooms are downstairs. Gender neutral with individual cubicles and sinks. Mercifully there is nobody else in the open area. I rush into the bathroom. The release I feel at just opening my pants and taking out my needy erection is huge. As is the erection.

I start to stroke myself as I read her texts. I tell her. She tells me she has been doing the same and that she has cum.

I moan aloud, low. I can’t last any longer. Fucking slut I start to type and I manage to hit send before huge ropes of cum shoot from me, covering the bathroom floor and one of my shoes, just missing my suit trousers.

It is as an explosive an orgasm as I have had in years. Just words on a text, just teasing words and sharp commands. She has reduced me to this: the middle aged, married exec director in the work bathroom jerking himself off.