Exposed at the Office - Sex Stories

Exposed at the Office

... action, and delivers the first three pages...then stops.

"Please load paper," reads the screen.

Swearing silently in my head, I look around. There is a stack of spare paper in the compartment under the copier. To reach it, I will have to bend right down to the ground. In a skirt. With no panties on. The swearing in my head intensifies as I look around again, like some kind of meerkat looking out for predators. The copier is up against the wall, in clear view of the whole office. Everyone can see. Of course, nobody is looking...yet...but if they glanced up, they would see...everything.

I know I have to get this copying done. Trapped, I think about the best way to do it, and go for a careful bend at the knee, dropping down into a kind of squat, letting the hem of my skirt fall around me to cover my dignity. I pull open the magnetic door at the bottom of the copier. There is one ream of paper there. Right at the back. Of course. I reach my arm in, and can almost touch it...almost...but I have to twist and reach to my right to get right to the back. As I reach I can feel my skirt riding up higher...higher...and then my fingers grip the edge of the paper, and pull it back towards me, my skirt hem sinking back down. I look around. Nobody noticed...I don't think.

Staying in my squat, I open the tray and load the paper. As I slide the tray shut, the copier resumes my job, and I rise carefully, using the copier for support so I can stand up straight without sticking my ...

... bare behind out for the whole office to see. The process has left me flushed and anxious, and I rush to collect the papers together as soon as they are delivered, and hurry to Conference Room 1.

*****

The conference room is laid out perfectly. The tables are arranged in a neat square, with comfortable leather chairs around each of the four sides. There are twelve folders laid out on the tables, with the water glasses and refreshments. I guessed right! Well, something had to go my way today. I move to the far side of the room and open the first folder, leaf to the back, and insert the first set of papers into the waiting pocket, careful to neaten the edges and lay the folder back perfectly square, the company pens straightened up next to it, before working my way round to the next one. I'm conscious of time, and I know I need to work fast; I can't be in here when the clients arrive.

I've worked my way round half the room, and have my back to the door when I hear a noise. Startled, my hand slips and the remaining papers flutter off the desk and into the middle of the square of tables. Silently cursing, I straighten and turn, and my world stops moving. Mr Daniels is in the doorway, with Sophie just behind his right shoulder. His brow is furrowed in frustration as he looks at the fluttering mess of paper settling in the middle of his orderly conference room. I begin to stutter out something between an apology and an explanation, not even sure what words are coming out of my ...