box of treats #3- aisle of plenty

(loosely follows on from box of treats #2shelf-life” …….)

I have to confess, while at work I’ve been making any excuse I can to find myself going to the corner of the warehouse where in my first week there as a part-time seasonal postal assistant working in the sorting office I stumbled on Gillian, the office administrator, and one of the full-time warehousemen having full-on sex: at work!

There’s also been a few visits to the archives room again, where in the second week at work I had a similar encounter. It wasn’t like I say, full-on sex but where, down one of the aisles this very same man I’d seen with Gillian, whose name I’d since learned was Christian, brought me to orgasm and then vanished leaving me stunned and wondered if I’d imagined it.

I couldn’t help the frisson of excitement I got every day now getting ready to go to work. I was sure both of these incidents were one-offs, an accident of being in the wrong, or right, place at the right time. Remembering just set the butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I knew what I was thinking, what if it happened again just at the very moment I again happened to be walking past, the pair of them again, ‘at it’. It could happen, I thought, it could, although I knew we all worked shifts which didn’t always overlap. Nevertheless, secretly I hoped.

The third week came around I kept seeing Gillian and now we even exchanged little chats in passing, though what I’d seen and she knew I’d seen remained unspoken, after all we were at work. I did get the feeling that, like me, she wasn’t averse to being watched in such a compromising act, risky though it was, I too understood that sometimes our desires get the better of us and have to be taken all the way to the end, wherever that is. As for the guy, I had seen him just the once since my own rather intimate, up close and very personal experience with him. There was no interaction beyond sharing a smile or a nod of acknowledgement, though there was definitely a glint in his eyes, something deadly mischievous. 

On the Thursday of the third week on the evening shift at around 9pm I had a break and wandered almost absent-mindedly around the quiet warehouse shed. I do enjoy these unsocial hours, an eerie but intoxicating quiet. I turned a corner and there I was again, exactly where I watched them in my first week indulging in their secret tryst. I went and stood next to the boxes I the corner where they did it. I closed my eyes and remembered and began unconsciously touching myself, hand slipping over my blue standard-issue work trousers, feeling the warmth between my legs. My other hand I ran over one breast over my burgundy standard-issue work polo-shirt complete with sewn Royal Mail logo. If I had thought I may have considered it a little disrespectful, fondling my clothing emblazoned with the work ‘Royal’.

I unbuttoned the top button and lowered the zip a little and my hand disappeared inside to feel just how warm I was as I imagined how she felt, I imagined the smell, their stifled moans as they both cum, her over him while he was inside her, then him in her. I pressed my fingers into my knickers.

A cough from behind brought me up short. I turned feeling a heat flush across my face and the word, shit! on my lips. His voice came back, don’t stop on my account. It was Christian. I hadn’t even known he was on this shift.

He approached a couple of feet closer saying feel free to carry on. I froze and fumbled with the trousers zip which I managed to pull up but failed with the button. A couple of more feet and we’d be face to face. Then we were. He was very tall, slim, solid build, about early thirties I guessed, dark eyes, slate grey I would say. Let me help you with that, he said and his fingers went to the trouser button, or, he continued, should we not fasten it just yet?

I was dumbfounded, flustered, having been caught in the act of almost pleasuring myself, and at work. I needn’t have been if I’d been rational, after all I’d seen him and Gillian fucking on this very spot. I see you couldn’t resist coming back, to see what you witnessed a couple of weeks ago maybe? I stumbled my words not regaining my composure quick enough. Sorry to say, he said, but you missed us here last night. It’s a shame, I’m sure you would’ve enjoyed it, us, again.

An embarrassed laugh left my lips as his fingers lingered over my still unfastened trouser button. As you weren’t there how about I tell you what we did, or better still, show you. I wasn’t sure what he meant and said as much while now so close I could breathe him in, the soap he uses, his skin. Well, he replied, and instead of fastening the button he pulled down the zip again. By the way, now whispering as thought the scene had suddenly taken on shrine qualities, I forgot to ask, I hope you enjoyed last week in the archives.

I couldn’t deny it, I had, hugely. With the front of my pants fully unbuttoned and unzipped he leaned down and we kissed.

This is how it started, he said, and then. He reached both hands around and grabbed my buttocks hard causing me to gasp the breath from his mouth mid-kiss. His hands were large, strong, I could easily feel that as he squeezed and played over them as the backs of my legs were lightly pressed against the top edge of a box. He leaned me slightly backwards and without warning moved one hand and slipped it down the front of my trousers grabbing my sex through my knickers, not unlike he’d done the previous week in the most unusual position through the shelves. He kneaded me hard and I felt myself unable to stop him. Not because I couldn’t, but because I didn’t want too, despite feeling apprehensive and worried someone might see.

I did say I wasn’t sure about this and he replied, sure you are, why else would you be here? I couldn’t argue with that, and I made no real effort to escape. I thought I was going to cum right at that moment as his fingers pushed at the material and my trousers had partially come away from my hips.

Then we…, he said, and without completing the sentence, edged my trousers completely from my hips and down my thighs until they slid down to my ankles. He urged me down onto my back on the box with my legs hanging down and continued rubbing my mound, making my white knickers stain with arousal. Up went my polo-shirt far enough to expose my black recycled lace bra. He seemed pleased to notice it was a front fastener. Why did I wear that one today? It was because it was the easiest in my haste to get dressed earlier, I hadn’t even thought. One simple clasp, no challenge for him as he cleanly flicked it loose and both cup easily fell away showing him my now excited nipples to which his fingers quickly found themselves rolling and pinching.

Liking it so far? he grinned. I didn’t answer, no answer was required as I lay there with my breasts on display and my trousers round my ankles. He edged me to almost orgasm but then slowed. I could smell both of us now. He leaned over me and rubbed his groin still in his trousers against my mound, grinding, once more edging me to which again I came so close then he pulled back, as though knowing. This was so cruel, I thought.

He knelt down, I propped myself up on my elbows and felt him pulling my boots off and then my trousers completely and was back on top rubbing my now soaking knickers. His fingers probing the shape of my labia, my folds, pushing, teasing.

For a second I wondered actually how many other girls he’d had here before, apart from Gillian, or was she the only one, and now me.

Then we…, again, another incomplete sentence but his actions clearly spoke for themselves when his hand slipped inside my knickers and began fingering me there down this semi-darkened aisle at work. I felt my juices coating my thighs, his hand encouraging my hips to respond in kind to his rhythmical motions, which they did. He still squeezed one breast at a time, my nipples now almost too tender to touch.

I suddenly felt very exposed, very naked, because I was, in a state of dishevelled dress as he brought me to orgasm right there were he also brought Gillian to the same state. I was sweating, almost everywhere, panting, biting my lips.

Then we…, there it was again, like a ‘ready or not here I come’, those two words and nothing else. He flipped me over onto my stomach and felt part of the wind knocked out of me. I twisted my head around as much as possible as he pulled down my knickers and spanked me. Good lord, I was not expecting that. He did it again, then again. He did it again, I felt a heat first just where he spanked then the sensation travelled to between my thighs. He gently rubbed then did it again a few more times. My entire body shook with delight though I didn’t admit that to him. I felt even more exposed now him seeing me like this from behind.

Down came my knickers completely and off one leg. A warm wet hand went to my sex and teased me open when I felt something which weren’t his fingers touching me then pushing inside me, stretching me, filling the space, thick, hot, determined. There was nowhere for me to go but brace myself and then his head slipped inside as did many inches of the rest of him. His found his comfort zone and with my legs slightly apart and me awkwardly splayed across the box began to fuck me, we began to fuck, my rear meeting him half way each thrust which grew quicker and deeper.

For a moment I wondered if Gillian was where I was right now and we’d switched places. I couldn’t tell but am sure she wasn’t, no one was watching our illicit encounter, our naked excitement as he pored over me like liquid, very firm liquid. I reached under my tummy and touched my clit and a few seconds was enough to once again cum as he moved his hips raw against my buttocks. As I reached forward to grip the edge of the box I heard him groan, stiffen, his legs and hips tighten and then he too cum, firing all he had inside me, his white sticky semen now freely flowing unhindered.

For minutes after we stayed like that until he flopped out and I felt an awkward trickling down one leg. I couldn’t move but knew I had too, and eased myself to sitting position, legs closed and after a minute fastened my bra and pulled my top down over it. This was the first glimpse I got of his member this close, and realised actually how sizeable it was even now, somewhat wilted as it was. I could describe it as dejected-looking except I knew form the smile on his face he was far from that.

Once he’d fastened his trousers and I was finally zipping myself up again he said, well, same again, soon?… He set off out of the aisle leaving that question hanging in the air between us and me needing my next port of call to be the bathroom. I was still flushed but in a way now I really didn’t mind.

Where, I had to wonder, was this going and what might the weeks yet to come bring. . . .

(and there is more to come in box of treats #4– our secret”…… )

© Emmaleela


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