Breathe - Sex Stories

Breathe

“ Eyes shut, Jenna. Straight ahead ten steps, then turn the corner. Halfway down the hall, then sidestep a photocopier. Smell that? That’s the coffee room. Turn right. Walk. Turn left. Skim your fingers along the reception desk. The sound of the air is changing. You’re approaching the doors. Hands out and push them open. Seven steps and you’re at the elevator. Push the ‘Down’ button." Ding. "Step inside. Turn around and press ‘G’.” Jenna Song listened as the elevator doors shut and felt the floor lighten against her feet. Eyes still closed, her lips pulled to a coy smile. So far, so good. Ding. Her knees buffered as the elevator came to a stop and the doors slid open. She stepped out. As she walked, her slipper flats on the marble floor made a soft patting sound rather than a crisp tap had it been a weekday and she was in heels. On Sunday afternoons, though, she rarely wore anything uncomfortable on her feet. “Twenty steps. It sounds like a cavern. You’re in the center of the atrium. Pivot to your left and walk straight ahead. Reach out and touch a glass door. Tap your fob against the panel.” Beep. Click! Jenna opened the door, stepped into the company gym and finally opened her eyes. She knew the layout of the space in general, but sometimes a stray workout bench or weights made the path unpredictable. Best not to risk tripping and hurting herself, not while she was alone. It amused her to know that she could negotiate her way from her desk to the gym eyes shut. She was at ...

... her desk only to water her plant since she was at the office anyway. The impromptu blind concentration test came on a whim. Of course, it would have been much more challenging if it were a weekday with coworkers scurrying about like ants in a dirt mound. She walked to the gym’s enclosed studio. This was nice, being at the office on a Sunday, even if it was a bright summer’s afternoon. The peace and quiet was in stark contrast to the clamor of office life during the week. Inside the carpeted studio, Jenna, already in her yoga clothes, dropped her purse aside. Looking around, she pulled her slippers off her feet with her toes. The sunshine from outside glazed the room with a hazy glow reflecting off the mirrored walls. No lights were necessary. This would do just fine. Softly she stepped, not quite to the middle of the room, but to her “spot” where she felt the most balance. She tied her dark, auburn hair into a tidy ponytail. After a few stretches, she settled down onto the floor, facing towards the mirrors, crossing her legs, and resting the back of her hands on her knees. Steadying herself, she found her center. Her lids settled over her grey eyes, one… two… three. "Breathe..." Solitude surrounded her. She waited. *** 5 Weeks Ago… Tyrone Briggs beat the crap out of the heavy punching bag; a flurry of furious blows bruised the leather with vicious thumps. Everyone else in the company gym gave the executive a wide berth, trying not to wince while listening to the resounding ...