(Just a little Easter treat from me to you, a first episode (#1) of more to come ~x)
A man’s bum watched from behind when he’s having sex is far from the most attractive sights to behold, but can be oddly alluring, captivating in an “I really need to look away, now!” way.
I didn’t look away, not when I realised it he wasn’t on his own. My first immediate vaguely rational thought being that he was masturbating, even though this was at work would be a strange thing for sure, but was equally surprising was that I saw straddled either side of his standing pose another pair of naked legs, women’s legs. Oh my god! You can’t blame me for saying that as I very quickly re-jiggled my thoughts to realise he, they were fucking, having workplace sex, and down a quite aisle of a warehouse.
She was looking surprisingly comfortable atop a pile of well-packed boxes which were themselves stacked on a pallet. This is not what I was expecting when I took this temporary seasonal Christmas job at the post office as a sorter. I took it for the extra cash and it sound easy enough and not too taxing, which is exactly what I wanted, basically, easy-money. As I’d used my brain enough during term time at university the last thing I wanted was a job that required too much thought. This was very much a by-the-numbers job that after a day I could do with my eyes closed.
My eyes were open now though, open very wide as I’d accidentally wandered into two ‘colleagues’ bonking on the evening shift. I liked these shifts as they were quieter than the ones during the daytime which were hectic. There were far fewer staff one for the lates and most of us were seasonal anyway so we all mostly knew each other after the first week. Sometimes we worked in pairs, sometimes on our own and my task this night was to deal with the oddly-addressed letters, collect them and work out where they are supposed to go then allocate to sorting as appropriate.
This time though on my way to the office to get started I stumbled into a lesser-visited corner of this huge warehouse, and because it is as such explains why these two are here: they knew it would be somewhere no one else would come at this time of day. Or so they thought. They hadn’t reckoned for me, Emma, who has a habit of finding myself in all kinds of unexpected situations for some reason. If something strange is going to happen then it’s likely to happen to me, I’m just waiting for aliens to land, it’s bound to happen just as I’m walking past at the time, doesn’t matter where it is.
I was stopped in my tracks as I appeared from between two aisles, saw them, then heard them, albeit they were being quiet, still there was definite giveaway panting going on. I froze, stared, couldn’t believe my eyes, I took one ever-so quiet step backwards so I was at least partly concealed behind a pile of boxes. Then I did something I hadn’t planned and they certainly didn’t plan I’m sure, I watched. I couldn’t not watch. There they were fucking on boxes, his with his work trousers around his ankles that, if it wasn’t for her legs appearing around his thighs, it would have looked like he was humping boxes. There are some weird people around, after all.
She was on her back facing him lying on the boxes, pencil skirt up around her top thighs and her legs open wide, every now and then bending her knees and gripping his hips as his entire body pushed into hers, his hands groping her buttocks and then her naked breasts, which with a little adjustment to my inadvertent viewing post I could see around him just enough to see her shirt was completely unbuttoned, bra unhooked and dishevelled. She definitely looked happy and definitely enjoying it.
I didn’t know her but had seen her around. She is one of the full time staff, an office administrator who I see around a lot usually smart-casually dressed, like she is now although looking less stern and business-like than she usually does due to the awry nature of her clothing and having a man between her legs. I don’t know how long they’d been there but long enough to be well into what they were doing, her very pale skin almost glowing in the low shadowy light of this part of the building. She is a redhead after all, pale skin goes with the territory. Her hair was a long bob and also stood out as it always does. Soon after I started I saw her and thought how amazing her hair colour was, better than my dark brown, or at least it was nearly black now as I’d not long dyed it.
She was a curvy build, slim but very beautifully-shaped with slender arms adorned with freckles which I saw grabbing his waist with fingers digging in. I couldn’t work out who he was at first then I did as I caught his profile briefly. Another full-time warehouse worker, usually worked evening and night shifts, never see him on the day ones. He was another I’d noticed and thought, wow, he keeps fit. Now I know one of the ways he likes to work out! I wondered if they were a couple, girlfriend and boyfriend, though I’d never seen them together at work before.
Soon after starting I had heard something about a girl who works here, who has a ‘reputation’ for probably this very thing I’m illicitly watching right now. It’s unfair, they never say that about a guy having a ‘reputation’ but when it’s a girl they do, usually disparagingly.
I believe if one has a healthy sexual appetite there should be nothing wrong with that, for a woman or a man. After all, I knew I have an extremely high sex drive, the same drive that’s probably driven me to still be here, semi-hidden, watching them going for it, feeling tiny pangs of envy of her. Good for her, I thought. I have to admit if the chance occurred for me here then there’s a good chance I would also, go for it.
She was looking right at me. Shit, I thought, and froze again, looking straight at her too. Our eyes connected, locked, she still buried in the throes of wild work-sex. I realised I was smiling, and blushing actually. She smiled back and actually winked. Then her head was flung back as he thrust himself hard inside her again and again. I think she just had an orgasm at that but they kept going. No stopping until the end, I could see that.
I heard myself whisper, god I wish that was me right now, as I was growing increasingly horny. How could I avoid it? Two people having full-on sex in front of me, her knowingly now, and him still oblivious to my presence. Her knees now raised even higher wrapped around his waist and linked at her ankles and their groans grew more desperate. Her beautiful breasts, which of course I’d never seen before, rocked back and forth with the force of his momentum.
By now I realised I’d unbuttoned my specially-provided blue work trousers and had my hand inside and inside my own knickers. I was rubbing, masturbating while I watched. This was so wrong, so wrong, so wrong, and so thrilling; so risky, but such a rush too. The night was dark outside, the rest of this corner of the warehouse empty but for us three. I couldn’t help myself, especially even more exciting for the fact that she now knew I was there, watching; voyeur. I pulled down my zip for better access to myself and fingered, spread my moisture over my sex, my clit. My legs began to grow weak. I stared as she lifted the top half of her body to wrap her arms as well as her legs around him as she cum exactly as his buttocks tensed, looked like they were gripping something invisible for dear life and he too cum; exactly as I did too. I pictured his throbbing appendage cumming inside her, how he felt, how it felt for her. It took me by surprise and through my now watering eyes I saw her looking over his shoulder again straight at me with the most mischievous look, clearly her cum-face. But then again she was probably seeing mine as my legs buckled and I fell against the boxes still trying to keep quiet.
I’d closed my eyes momentarily and when I opened them again I saw her whispering into his ear and then he turned and then both of them looked in my direction, both with such naughty expressions spread across their faces. She clearly just informed him they’d been watched the entire time, by me. I was caught, no longer the innocent bystander. I knew their dirty little secret but those glances we shared at that moment said a lot without saying anything, specifically that this was our secret, between us and us only. None of us needed to voice that or do anything other than look, smile, and for me, blush again, big time.
I never imagined working somewhere as innocuous as the sorting office for the mail would include such added benefits. I wondered if there are any more surprises I’ve yet to discover, and wondered if our shared smiles suggested what was unbeknown to me to come in the next week.
(loosely continued in “box of treats #2– shelf-life” . . . . . . )