“Good morning, Tim, Doug, Steve.” I greet my cubicle chums as they settle in for another day of work.

My workspace used to be right there with them. Beyond the fabric wall on my right, I would periodically hear Doug's heavy breathing and my dirty mind couldn't help but wonder what he was up to. Was everybody as insatiably horny as me? Doug is a hefty man and my pussy often got wet imagining him pulling back his gut and stealing a few strokes of his cock while he panted and wheezed.

Then there is Steve, a complete opposite of Doug. Steve is tall and thin, he has one of those pointy Adam's apples and his voice is really deep. His cubicle was in front of mine. Steve is a moaner and when his wife packed leftover lasagna for lunch, God could he vocalise his pleasure and gratitude! I would love to have an ear to the room when he is fucking his good housewife. I bet I wouldn't even have to touch myself to start orgasming. Keep making that lasagna, Mrs. Whittle! Mmmmm, ohhhhh, mmmmoahhhh.

My closest work chum is Tim; quiet, bashful Tim. His desk sat across the narrow aisle so I could see Tim all the time and he could see me. I really made work difficult for him. I flaunted myself in short skirts and low cut blouses. If I wear panties they are always sexy g-strings and I would often bend over to give Tim a fucking good view. I desire to be seen and I get off on knowing a guy is looking and wanting and I knew Tim looked and wanted badly! There were days he had it so bad that he couldn't leave his desk, his hand twitched awkwardly on his lap, and his face burned crimson while he sweated profusely under his collar. Even now as I walk past my old workspace to my new executive office, I feel Tim’s eyes burning into my swaying ass.

My desire to be seen did NOT go unnoticed and eight months into my job I got a promotion. I basically became my boss’s little servant. My job looks important. I have my own office with a fancy gold plate on my door donning my name and fancy title, Executive Officer of Planning and Communications. But I'm just a glorified scheduler… with benefits. That office door is always to be open except when my boss, Mr. Stratton, and I are deep in a meeting. Mr. Stratton is a highly wanted man and he has meetings daily; telephone, video, in person, and I am to be there at all times taking notes.

Today's meeting begins at nine thirty and I hear Mr. Stratton rise from his chair as I walk past his office and I FEEL him following me to my office. No greetings. The door clicks shut behind me and the lock is turned. I close my eyes and breathe in slowly, taking everything that is Mr. Stratton into my airways; rich cologne, a shot of whiskey, and simply… him.

His firm hands grip my tense shoulders which immediately go lax as he slides my blazer down over my arms and hangs it on the coat rack.

“Is everything ready for the meeting?” he asks crisply.

I sit in my chair and begin to log into my laptop. “It will only take a minute to sign onto the video conference and then we will be good to go, Sir.”

“Set it up on the raised desk, Tiffany.”

“Yes, Sir.” My heart rate soars and I feel the heat grow in my cheeks as I raise to my wobbly feet and set the laptop on the higher tier.

“It is very important that you stay absolutely silent during this conference.” Mr. Stratton opens THE drawer and I watch him pull out a penis mouth gag.

Did I mention I serve Mr. Stratton in all ways?

“Drink some water before I silence you.” he says as he hands me a glass of water that I didn't even notice he brought in with him.

I obediently drink it all.

“Good girl.” He leans in and kisses my lips so gently as though they are made of delicate rose petals and I moan softly to which he growls and kisses me more deeply, eliciting more soft whimpers to expel with my breath. Mr Stratton gives me all the attention I could ever wish for!

He breaks our embrace and circles saliva around my swollen lips before bringing the rubber gag to my mouth and silencing me. Tapping my tablet on the lower desk, Mr. Stratton reminds me of my note taking duties and he signs into the video call.

My chair is not available to me so I bend down, this is what he wants; my short skirt hiked over my exposed ass as he stands behind me, pressing his slacks against me and showing me how hard I am making his cock. His hands circle my bum cheeks and grip my panties, sliding them down my hips and letting them fall to my feet where I quietly step out of them.

The chatter of others signing on fills the room while Mr. Stratton glides his fingers up and down my soggy slit. I hear his zipper slide down and soon feel his meaty dick slap against my ass crack.

“Take good notes, Tiffany.” Mr. Stratton clicks a button to join the meeting and slams his cock deep into my pussy. My silent cries come out as a mess of drool around the gag and my lips.

I never know how he does this so well. Everybody can see him from the chest up, everybody can hear the noises in this room. They must know what is going on here. But I cannot worry about that; I have to take notes, really fucking good notes, or I will be in big trouble.

The first time, and hopefully only time, I took bad notes Mr. Stratton locked me into some kind of chastity underwear. For an entire week, he called me into his office first thing each morning and affixed the uncomfortable garment to ensure I received no pleasure all day. He set me up on a bathroom schedule and watched me use the toilet. On the first day, he chastised me for not drinking enough fluids and ordered me to drink on the following days to the point that I nearly wet myself waiting for my bathroom time and each day he filled me up more and more.

While I peed in the toilet, Mr. Stratton fucked my mouth with his cock, fast and rough, for the sole purpose of coming hard and getting me belted back up before I had the opportunity to relieve my own sexual frustration.

The denial turned me on so much that even when I went home liberated at the end of each day I continued to deny myself. I wanted to save it for HIM.

On Friday as I sat on the toilet for my afternoon pee break, Mr. Stratton pushed his hand between my closed legs. I couldn't stop my pee and I burned with embarrassment while I soaked his hand and he slapped it against my pussy and rubbed my clit, ending my stream with a violent orgasm spraying urine all over my bum. I wept a little, thinking this was too much. But when I saw the weight of arousal and desire in Mr. Stratton's eyes, I knew that nothing was off limits with him, he would never be disgusted by me, and I had no need to be self conscious. I could relax in his embrace.

Mr. Stratton yanked me up from the toilet, still dripping wet, and he slammed me against the stall wall, digging his cock to the hilt into my cunt and rubbing out another orgasm in me. I must have peed more because a wet patch slowly spread over the fabric of his clothes that pressed between us. I whimpered and apologized profusely to which he uttered soft, nurturing ‘shh’ noises as he fucked me hard and kissed me softly…

Ooooh, I snap back to the present and stare at my blank tablet screen as a silent orgasm courses through my body and grips Mr. Stratton's barely moving cock.

He growls in response and begins expressing his frustrations to the poor output of the current team he is meeting with. He slaps my ass hard to emphasize his words and my face falls on the puddle of accumulating drool on my desk. What the fuck do they think he is slapping?

Suddenly, his cock pulls completely out and his hand smears my slippery juice up over my ass and his fingers feed it into my little hole as they circle in an ever widening arc. Surely he isn't going to fuck my ass during the meeting!

“Do better!” he roars and I almost choke on the cock gag when he drives his thick meat into my asshole.

I don't know if he is yelling at the people on the screen or at my lack of note taking. Maybe he is yelling at all of us. Flustered and stinging I begin to scribble on the tablet while those horrible squeaks of air slip out around his thrusting cock. Does the audience know I am here? I know I am not visible on screen, but do they know that I am bent over getting my ass fucked by their boss while he yells at them? Deep down I hope they do know and I hope they go home and masturbate to it. A therapist would have a field day with me and my attention complex. Who gives a fuck; it feels good, I feel good, we don't need to unpack it!

Oh god, he is rubbing my clit. His balls are slapping my wet cunt. I am going to come again! Fuck I want to scream! My breathing is ragged and too loud, but if I try to slow it down I feel like my heart will explode. Unnnhhhh, I'm coming! Oooh, he is too; I feel his heat spraying in my ass. He is so fucking amazing, so composed, yet losing his mind at the same time. What expressions cross his face, what do they see? His eyes must be wild. His cheeks must be flushed. His throat must be swallowing hard. I try to see him, but I cannot get the right angle, he is leaning too far over me and all I see is his shirt front and tie. Coming… coming again. So much juice is rolling down my thigh, leaving a cooling, wet trail in its wake.

The meeting concludes. Mr. Stratton clicks a button and his softening cock slips from my rump and a glob of thick come drips out onto the floor. I right myself and more jizz oozes down my legs while the messy webs of drool hang from my face. I watch patiently while Mr. Stratton wipes up his cock with some tissues and throws them in the wastebasket. He fixes up his clothes and says nothing while he releases the gag from my mouth and glances at my tablet screen.

“I hope you have lots of notes for us to go over. Meet me in my office at three o'clock.” He lays the wet gag in my puddle of drool and walks out of my office, which now has a very distinct odour, and leaves the door wide open. I quickly slide the drooly device into a drawer to clean up later and catch a glimpse of my tablet, ‘Fire team’ is the only note I have made.

“Fuck…”