You come out of the cubicle and she is there. As you always do, when the opportunity arises, you rake your eyes up her impossibly long legs, taking in her narrow hips and tight arse. You don’t know what it is about this frankly abrasive woman that provokes, terrifies, and turns you on so completely. She says something banal which you don’t quite catch, distracted as you are. Your automatic response is met by a small nod and you know you’ve said the right thing.
As you wash your hands, you watch her in the mirror. She knows you are watching her as she begins to readjust her bra beneath her shirt. There’s a challenge in her eyes as she looks at you; a challenge you know she cannot win. Her small breasts fit her lithe frame perfectly, but you know her insecurities will make her compare your bodies and find herself wanting. You meet her challenge nonetheless; anything to get a better look at her and maybe, just maybe the challenge would develop into something more.
She watches as you raise your shirt to reveal your black lace bra and match her movements to rearrange its contents. In the mirror she looks disappointed yet determined and moves her attention to her light brown hair. Here again you know that she will wrongly compare herself unfavourably against you as you pull out the bobble and release your masses of long, thick dark hair. You whip it back with a sharp flick of your head and you’re sure you hear her growl as she turns and walks away.
At the hand dryer she stops to look back at you, then grabs her long black skirt. Slowly, she begins to pull the hem up towards her waist revealing inch by torturous inch those exquisitely long legs. As the soft fabric slides upwards, past the lacy tops of her stockings, you feel a powerful twinge in your groin. When she stops, the split of her skirt reveals her sharp hip bone. You feel yourself flush as you imagine it pushing between your legs and grinding into you.
The satisfied smirk she gives you now stirs you into action. Whatever this challenge, this mating ritual is you refuse to be beaten and you stride towards her unbuttoning your trousers as you go. As you pass her, you allow them to fall and without missing a beat step out of them. You can still feel her watching you as you bend to retrieve them and leave the bathroom.
Safely back in your office, you head into the stationery cupboard and leaning against the door slide your hand down your pants desperate to relieve the ache within. Your silent climax washes over you and you can’t help but wonder if your little encounter has had a similar effect on Joanna. You presume not.
You hadn’t been invited to her birthday celebration, but you head to the pub anyway. You sit at the bar, alone, continuing your personal observation of her day. Across the room Joanna is sitting with Statham and Lyndon; one oblivious of her charms, the other just totally oblivious and neither one worthy of her at all. You’re too far away to hear what they’re saying but you don’t need to hear them to know they’re bickering. Lyndon looks totally uncomfortable beside them, until he jumps up and heads towards the bar. You hope he won’t speak to you and interrupt your Joanna watching but he doesn’t, and you give a small sigh of relief.
You watch intently as Statham, the ridiculous little man, continues his diatribe. Joanna ignores him her long, elegant fingers slipping into her wine glass and swirling them around the bottom of the glass scooping up the remaining dregs of her drink and then sucking them clean. You shiver watching the undeniably erotic action of her hand. She slips down the bench slightly and rests her head back, even from this distance you can see the lust shining in her eyes; Statham has obviously, finally, said something she approves of. Sat like that, with that look upon her face she looks stunningly beautiful, not that he’s noticed of course. For the millionth time you wonder why she puts up with him, he obviously doesn’t make her happy or satisfy her.
She looks to the side towards the bar, searching for Lyndon but instead her eyes catch your own. You could satisfy her. You’re sure of it, if only…You raise your glass to her then down what’s left of your whiskey, by the time you lower your glass her gaze has already moved on. “Happy birthday” you say under your breath, grab your handbag and head for home.
A few days later you see her coming towards you on the corridor, you stop at the notice board and pretend to be browsing the multitude of random posters and adverts pinned there while you surreptitiously ogle her. She stops beside you and begins to pin up the latest charity event poster. She smooths the paper tight to the wall, holding it taut with her strong, long fingers and you wonder if it is possible to fall in love with a person’s hands. Finally, possibly too slowly, you remember to speak and point out some of the more amusing notices. Smiling you leave her to finish her task, pleased that just this once your small talk hadn’t devolved into banter or a power struggle.
Why on earth had he brought it to you? Why hadn’t he just destroyed it? How he’d ever managed become a student doctor is beyond you, he’s certainly not inherited any of Joanna’s obvious, albeit vindictive, intellect. But you can have some fun with this you think as you put your feet up onto your desk and consider your options. You decide that before you make any kind of a move, you need to know just how compromising the tape actually is.
Later that evening you push the tape into your video player and press play. On screen, Joanna strides into view dressed in a sheer, black nightdress through which her slender curves can clearly be seen. She’s gained a little weight you notice; it suits her and you cock your head to get a better view. You feel a twinge of jealousy as Secretan pushes her down onto the bed and begins massaging lotion into her glorious legs, but you cannot look away. When he begins to pull her nightdress over her head, you remember with a lurch of disgust what and who you are watching and quickly switch the video off. You’ve seen enough and a plan has begun to form…blackmail!
You know that given her seniority within the hospital, Joanna would be in a position to give you pretty much anything you asked for, but you don’t want to cause any actual damage to her life and career, the incident itself has already done enough. It occurs to you that you could use this to coax her into your bed, but that isn't appealing either; you want her there of her own accord or not at all. And so, you come up with a list of ridiculous demands, just to show her who’s really in charge around here beginning with demanding her presence in your office. When she storms through your door, you can see that the summons has had the desired effect. She is incensed with anger and fear but desperately trying to push it aside uncertain of how far you were willing to go. You toy with her for a while before telling her what you want.
To Joanna’s credit she actually does give you everything you ask for, she even manages to work out a way of fulfilling your impossible dream of flying. Although being hooked up to a harness and a pulley couldn’t really be described as flying but you appreciate the effort she has gone to and trust that she won’t just drop you. Not that you’d blame her if she did. You had expected her to tell you to get lost well before now but have to admit that you’re enjoying her now frequent visits to your office. Eventually word of the tape gets around to Mac who manages to sweet talk you into giving it to him and your game ends.
You had expected the visits from Joanna to stop as soon as the tape was destroyed, but you were wrong. They did peter off somewhat, but you notice that she has begun to come down to you rather than asking you to go to her. You like this subtle change in your relationship, not least because your office is much more private than hers is and you can continue your light-hearted competitive banter, flirting some might say, without fear of being disturbed.
Although you don’t consider yourself to be lesbian, you’re happy to acknowledge and even act upon your occasional attraction to other women, but your dominant desire is for men. Consequently, you find yourself, on a quiet day in the office, creating an array of realistic clay penises. The feel of the smooth, wet clay slipping through your hands as you squeeze and tease it into phallic shapes is distinctly sensual. As you finish your final creation, your skin is tingling and an idea pops into your head. You quickly strip down to just your knickers and begin to smooth the slick material all over your skin.
As you finish, Joanna stomps into your office and slumps into the chair, her eyebrows raising in confusion. The sight of Joanna sat there in her low cut, barely professional pink wrap around top coupled with the tension your own fingers had created sent a jolt of electricity through your body culminating in a sharp twinge of desire for the tall blonde. You imagine sticking one of the clay penises to your bodysuit and using it on her. You grab the smallest of the cocks and push its base flush to your clay covered knickers:
“What do you think of this?” You ask. “With…” You pull the cock away. “or without?”
Joanna just looks at you, watching with fascination as you move the phallus back and forth.
“With or without?...”
“Just show me again.” She says staring at you, and you repeat the display. She swallows hard and sounds breathy as she tells you “without” and tries to bolt for the door.
“Tits” you shout after her stopping her in her tracks and she’s back at your desk in a millisecond.
“Are they even?” You ask her, thrusting your chest out towards her.
“No, not quite.” She replies and tentatively reaches out to touch you. Silently you curse the desk that’s creating a barrier between you as she gains confidence and firmly caresses your breasts and tweaks your nipples beneath the clay into hard points.
“Interesting” you say aloud as she once again bolts out of the door. That was not how you expected this to go.
Statham is sitting in your office blathering on, bragging about some stupid contest and going off like he’s Billy Connolly or something. You ignore him, stare out of the window and pretend to take a phone call with your back to him while you try to work out which of your pranks you’ve not used on him yet. You’re slightly disappointed when he runs out of steam and stand up to leave of his own accord, but only for a second because as you turn you see Joanna passing him in the doorway. She closes the door behind him and takes up the spot he’s just vacated. Whilst you’re happy to see her, it hurts you to see her so low. Ever since The Incident you’ve watched the fire slowly extinguish in her and for once you slip into the role you’re paid to fulfil.
“Well the way I see it, there are three things you can do to bring Dr. Statham down a peg or two…” you begin. But she cuts you off, she doesn’t want your advice and you feel chastened by her rebuttal. “Oh” you say sadly, looking down at your hands.
“What are they?” She asks gently. You stare off into space, imagining swiping away your paperwork and pulling Joanna to you for a devastating kiss.
“Oh, shit, I’ve forgotten!” You tell her needing to give yourself a second to think what the other two options could be, certain that passionately fucking on the desk wouldn’t be considered suitable. She sighs, frustratedly:
“I wouldn’t care, only he’s just so inanely happy.”
“Dr Statham? Happy? He’s borderline schizophrenic with a predilection for self-harm and a jackhammer stammer.” You counter, your disdain for the ludicrous, pompous man oozing from you.
“Then why’s he always smiling?”
“I don’t know, maybe he’s had a stroke?”
“All I want is for him to be as miserable as I am.” Again, you feel a twinge of sadness at seeing Joanna so cowed and yearn for the feisty, power hungry vixen you know she really is.
“Oh, come on now Joanna, that’s pathetic! Anybody can do miserable. What you really need to do is scare the bastard. Have some real fun for a change.” At that she perks up and you can see the cogs whizzing around as she considers the possibilities. Maybe this conversation is heading the way you had hoped after all.
You don’t know what’s happened, but something has relit Joanna’s fire. She barges into your office, her skirt tucked up into her knickers. She leans towards you, one hand planted on your desk, the other on her cocked hip. Struggling to breathe you ignore her for a second before asking what she wants.
“You’re fired” she hisses “Go on, pack your bags and piss off!” The bitch is back, and she is magnificent.
“Have you got official confirmation of this, in writing, perhaps?” You ask calmly, challenging her. She seemed phased for a moment before responding sheepishly.
“Can I see it?” She grabs a pen from the caddy and scrawls something onto the desk.
“I love you” You read when she is done.
“Bye, bye bitch!” She corrects leaning over the table once again. You look down at the words “I love you” scribed in front of you and your eyes drift over to her strong, tanned thighs. You act before you have time to think, climbing over your desk you slide your body into the narrow space between Joanna and it. Even in this position she’s taller than you and you need to cant your head slightly to look into her eyes. She stares back at you; a predator surveying her prey and your legs turn to jelly in her gaze.
She steps closer to you, bringing her back to her full height then grabs your hips, pulling you tight into her. Your bodies flush together, she raises one hand up to your squirrel and yanks your head back, her head dropping to catch your lips in hers. It is a brutal kiss, an assertion of dominance, and you respond, hard and feral, matching her intensity not yet ready to be tamed. You slide your arms around her, one hand grasping her arse, the other burrowing up under her shirt caressing the smooth skin within then raking your nails down her spine. You feel her growl vibrate on your lips and you repeat the motion, harder. She pulls back:
“You’re forgetting who’s in charge around here” She mutters, her voice gravelly, thick with desire. “Maybe I should remind you. Pin you down. Take you. Shall I?”
You shiver at her words. “I love you too.” You whisper ready and willing to take this wherever Joanna wants it to go.