What’s on my desk…

Because I just love to write and will write whatever comes to mind, I have a plethora of works in progress just simmering on my hard drive. My mind works like a revolving door and sometimes, it contributes to many a story laying dormant for months on end until I finally make my way back to it. My muse is fickle that way- whatever he deems necessary to talk about, he’ll talk about. Such is the case with my ongoing IR WIP, The Lonely Girl Chronicles.    The Lonely Girl Chronicles is a collection of erotic stories revolving around   the plight of four everyday career women looking for the one thing they believe they are lacking to have a rich, fulfilling life: sizzling passion, illicit lust, and life affirming love. The first story focuses on Margaret Lewiston, an up and coming analyst for a major firm, who survives her lonely existence by throwing herself into her work in the hopes that she wouldn’t have to suffer hours of loneliness that awaits her at the end of the day. When she meets Andy Yukov, an IT analyst, the catalyst for change begins.

And so, I present the first chapter of my WIP The Lonely Girl Chronicles.

Enjoy.

Warning:  Some scenes contain explicit sex and strong language. Please be advised.

 

Chapter One: Ruminations and Desirelonely girl

 

Margaret pushed her glasses further up her nose, her brow crinkling as she stared at the screen, attempting to make heads or tails of what she was seeing. This couldn’t be happening to her, not when she was against a deadline- a deadline that would probably make or break her job. Since joining the acquisitions department a year ago, Margaret had worked diligently, often going beyond the call of duty to show her worth but for all of her efforts, there had been no celebratory pats on the backs or glasses overrunning with champagne. No, those were saved for the faces of the department, the drop dead beauties that seemed to pose at their desks instead of actually putting in the work. It was the way of the world for Margaret; she’d always been the type to keep her head down and her shoulder to the grind to finish the job while others got the recognition. Just once, she wanted to break the shell she’d molded for herself, shatter the misconceived notion that she was worthless…

Just once I want someone to notice me, she thought absently as she averted her eyes from the screen, slipping off her glasses. Massaging her eyes, she exhaled and then sat back, taking a look at the now deserted office. As usual, she was the last one to leave, burning the midnight oil in order to meet the demands while her coworkers had left hours ago, no doubt having the life she’d only dreamed about.  It was Friday, for crying out loud, and she was stuck to her keyboard as if the fate of the world depended on one missing comma.

Anger suffused through her  as she stood and stretched,  again taking in the silence and the darkness, annoyed that her life amounted to the same boring ritual. She wanted excitement, she wanted passion, and she wanted to feel the rhythm of life pulsating through her veins.  In her fantasies, she had all she’d ever desired but she could only live in that fantasy land for so long before the harsh reality crashed down around her. She was lonely and judging by where she was at nine o’clock on a Friday night, that status wasn’t about to change.

Defeated, she sat back down and snatched up her glasses, determined to at least finish her work.  When she was done, she could go home and forget about her lonely existence, hopefully catching up on all the shows she’d missed through the week.  Perhaps when she was done with that, she would surf the net, hoping that her online friends were actually online.

“I’m pathetic. Simply pathetic,” she whispered harshly as she scooted her chair closer to her computer. Just as she was about to start working again, her work disappeared and in its place, a black screen appeared with the words that caused chills to run down her spine.

Error, please strike any key to reboot the system…

Margaret struck the enter key and closed her eyes, hoping that when she opened them, her work would magically appear.  Holding her breath, she slowly opened her eyes to see the same words once more and hit the enter key again, watching as those words seemed to multiply, spelling her doom.

Error, please strike any key to reboot the system…

Error, please strike any key to reboot the system…

Error, please strike any key to reboot the system…

Error, please strike any key to reboot the system…

“Fuck!” Margaret groaned as she slammed her hands on her desk. If she couldn’t retrieve her work, she was as good as gone. This simply wouldn’t work. Standing, she glanced at the screen once more, feeling the anxiety as it slowly bubbled to the surface. She had to fix this; she had to get this right…but how?

“IT, you idiot,” she chastised herself aloud. Moving quickly for her phone, she sat down and stared at the screen, dialing the number to the IT department. Hopefully, she wasn’t the only one left in the building. She was depending on some lowly tech geek as lonely as her who’d decided to stick it out in the office instead of trudging home to wallow in his loneliness. At that thought, Margaret snickered mirthlessly and ran a hand through her bone straight hair, realizing that was exactly what she was doing.

“IT department, Andrew Yukov speaking, how may I help you?”

Russian… At the sound of the deep accented voice, Margaret sat up straight and pulled her hand out of her hair and fixed it back, preening as if  this hyper masculine voice could see her through the line. Immediately, she imagined how the man attached to the voice would look, the dark intensity in his gaze as he fucked her with his eyes or the demanding presence that made her body quiver with anticipation. Almost instantly, Margaret felt the warm moisture pooling between her legs as she let her imagination run wild, images of this dark, brooding man pushing her against the wall and stripping her of her lace panties.

Yes, that’s right, laced panties. Just because she was lonely didn’t mean that she had to resort to wearing granny panties. She’d taken pride in her assortment of racy lingerie and got a kick out of wearing them because she knew that her outward appearance was only a fraction of who she really was. Underneath all that conservative veneer laid a predatory seductress, lying in wait for her prey.

And right now, she imagined that the sexy voice on the other line was looping her legs through his arms and hiking her against the wall of her cubicle, lining her up.  She could practically feel his dick as it invaded her tight hole, filling her completely. Margaret’s pulse jumped as he began to pump into her with abandon, thrusting her back against the unforgiving wall. She ran her nails down his back, annoyed that she couldn’t mark him but was rewarded with him pounding her pussy as if he simply couldn’t  get enough.

“You like it rough, don’t you?”

She wet her lips decorously as he began to thrust like a piston into her, pushing her to the precipice of   passion. He was relentless in his quest to make her come and he grunted like a beast in heat as he slammed his hips against hers almost violently, ripping a scream from her lips. It seemed as if he took her in this manner for hours, her sex quivering and devouring his dick wantonly. She was made for a good hard screw, her wide hips and strong legs giving him something to work for and when she flexed her sex and swallowed his dick, she grinned as he responded in kind, bellowing in anguished victory as he took her quickly.

Margaret could feel her body shifting as the warmth bloomed from deep within. She looked up into his eyes and smiled, feeling every bit of the sex kitten she believed she was.  As he mastered her body, she leaned forward and kissed him, thrusting her tongue deep into his mouth. It seemed only fair; he was fucking the shit out of her , the least she could do was fuck him with her tongue.  Her kiss had its desired effect; she could feel his body constricting around hers. He was ready and he was determined to fall over that edge, bringing her with him…

 “Eh, hello, are you there?”

“Damn,” Margaret panted heavily.  The calm, accented voice had brought her back to her reality and she shook her head and placed her hand on her chest, feeling the erratic beat of her heart under her palm. Shifting in the chair, she moaned slightly as the evidence of her arousal began to pool in her laced panties, making her just as hot as she had been in the throes of her passion filled fantasy. After a moment, she took a deep breath and answered, “Yes, I’m here, Mr. Yukov. I think I need your help.”

“Ah, tell me the problem and I can see if I can help you, ah…”

“Ms. Lewiston , Margaret Lewiston.”

“Alright, Ms. Lewiston, I’m Andrew, please call me Andy.”

I’ll call you a Popsicle if you’d let me suck… Margaret thought lewdly. Again she shifted in her seat, relishing the sensation of her wetness. She bit her lip and forced herself to reign in her lustful passions, attempting to focus on the problem at hand. She had to recover her work if she wanted to have a job to come to on Monday.

Clearing her throat, she spoke, “Alright, Andy. I was wondering if you could help me with a problem I’m having with my computer. I was working on a very important project and the screen just went blank. I followed the prompts and nothing happened.” A long silence followed and Margaret gripped the phone frantically, “Andy…are you there?”

“Ah…yes, I am, ah…here. You say that the screen just went blank?”

Okay, what’s his malfunction? Margaret thought as she arched a brow. Deciding to keep her sharp tongue out of it, she answered, “Yeah, just like that. Is there any way I can recover what I was working on?” More silence. “Andy?”

“Yeah, it, eh…it sounds like the server may have crashed. Just one moment, please…”

Margaret sat back in her seat and crossed her legs, chancing a glance at the small mirror that was hanging on her wall. She studied her  big, round brown eyes hidden by her glasses, her thick, dark eye lashes, and her button nose, seeing hints of both the Native American and African American blood that ran through her veins. Her warm caramel hued skin wasn’t flawless but it wasn’t completely damaged and her plump lips seemed to balance her face perfectly. She wasn’t drop dead gorgeous like the faces, to be sure, but she wasn’t half bad…was she?

“Apparently not enough for anyone to notice,” Margaret whispered dully. Shaking her head, she leaned her elbows on her desk and placed her face in her hand, waiting for Andy to finish whatever the hell he was doing. Glancing at the clock, she exhaled wearily; she was stuck in this relentless cycle.

“Care to tell me why you’re working on a Friday night?”

Andy’s voice came out of nowhere, startling Margaret out of her self- depreciating thoughts. After a second, she realized he was trying to make conversation and decided that even though he was a stranger, there would no harm in acquiescing. “I’m working because this work won’t get done by itself.”

“So, that means that you have to ah…how is it you say, stick around? Are you the only one who works in your department, Ms. Lewiston?”

Margaret felt the anger rise. He was mocking her loneliness and making her feel more pathetic than she already felt.  Who the hell did he think he was? Instead of letting her anger get the best of her, she replied, “What about you, Andy? Why are you working late?”

“Ah, I took someone’s place. He needed the night off.  I usually work in the day time, like most everyone else. You seem to be the only one working late most days.”

How would he know that? “That’s not true,” Margaret lied. She was livid but wasn’t quite ready to give him the business, “I go home.”

“Not according to the logs, Margaret. You’re here early in the morning and late at night. What does your boyfriend or husband has to say about his woman putting in those types of hours?”

“I suppose he’d hate it if there was one,” Margaret responded quietly. The fire that was previously burning in her belly had extinguished at the thought of her lonely existence and she exhaled heavily, rubbing her hand over her face as if she could scrub out the shitty parts of her life.  Ruminating over her life had been a sore spot and because she wanted to remain sane, she tried not to think about it often but Andy had shone a big ass flashlight on her pitiful life. Annoyed, she exhaled heavily and shook her head, “Look, are you going to be able to fix this or should I be looking for another job?”

“No need to look for job, Margaret. I can fix this. Will be just a moment, I will have to come to you…”

Margaret sat up stiffly and looked around at the darkened bull pen, suddenly hesitant about the situation. True, she was alone but she wasn’t willing to lay her life on the line…even if he sounded sexy as hell.

He could be some kind of maniac, preying on the innocent women of the world or maybe, just maybe…

“How long will it take you to get here, Andy?”

“Five minutes tops…”

“Alright, see you then,” Margaret responded as a sinful smirk inched over her lips. So she was contemplating seducing the IT guy, it wasn’t like she was hitting them out of the park. She’d give the dork some play and maybe, just maybe she wouldn’t have to resort to her battery operated boyfriend and her menagerie of indecent fantasies.

Game on.

 

Advertisements

4 thoughts on “What’s on my desk…

  1. Aja says:

    Look at you! I really like it and can’t wait to see what happens between her and Andy :).

  2. Lily says:

    Really nice work Margaret. Looking forward to reading the rest!

  3. stephaniebartley1 says:

    Great sart to this story. I can’t wait to see what happens next. I am glad it will be an online free story while you work on it. I love when the authors does this so the readers can give some input. So far, this one looks like it will be great!!!!!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s