Office Policy

Leorio rearranged the pencils in his cup. The sound was too loud, but he was afraid they looked too phallic left out. Long and straight. He opened his filing cabinet and put the cup on the bottom, then slammed the door. He swept his paperclips into the drawer too, just to be sure.
Every detail of the office had to be perfect or the whole meeting could implode like the 50,000th chance of the LHC, leaving nothing but a gaping black hole that was once his career, sucking in every bit of his future.
Thirty minutes ago, his supervisor had come in, hiding behind his thick glasses.
“Hey! Jim,” Leorio stood to shake his hand, then sat back down and flipped out his tie. “What’s the occasion?”
“Well,” Jim leaned a hand on Leorio’s desk. “We’ve got a personnel issue.”
“Great.” Leorio tapped his pen on his desk name plate, a triangle of stained wood with a plaque that held his title rather than name: Human Resources. “You made it to the right office. Congrats on mastering the cubicle maze; your hunk of cheese is in the mail.”
“See, that’s what we love about you,” Jim said. “That’s why I came down. Because I have a concern that the problem you’re about to preside over is going to tickle that sense of humor and get our asses hung out to dry.”
Leorio cleared his throat. He started toying with a pencil. “What’s the problem?”
Jim situated himself in the client’s chair, kicking his legs out and crossing them. He folded his hands over his belly, slouching back. “There’s been an incident with – and I’m modeling the language I want you to use here, so listen up – an incident with a noise complaint.”
“So far so good.” Leorio spread his open hands. “I do noise complaints. I have four extra packs of headphones in the closet – for the music offenders, and the victims get pricy ones for noise cancellation if it’s coughing or medical. Got a whole system ready to deal with it.”
“This woman is claiming it’s medical,” Jim said.
“Cool.” Leorio waited and finally Jim went on.
“Lou Serali was hearing buzzing noises, like a computer revving or, in his words, an electrical toothbrush. He got IT to come up and check his machine; it didn’t help. Figured it must be coming from next door. He didn’t know the girl – woman. Always say woman.”
“I do, man.”
Jim hesitated. “Don’t get smart now.”
“Wasn’t joking. I do, seriously.”
“Don’t say seriously, you sound like a surfer - and it implies you weren’t serious before. Anyhow, Serali doesn’t know the girl – shit - the woman in the next cubicle. She keeps to herself, like a hermit. Ugly dresser – don’t say that, but so you know, she’s the type that has a houseful of cats and an ailing parent in her guest room, maybe battling multiple sclerosis on the side.”
“Bit batty?”
“But crazy efficient. Very good with technology, about the only one that can foolproof format MS Word – “ he laughed.
“What does she do again?”
“Bit of everything. Mostly the website design, but we put her on database maintenance and she consults on grant proposals when she has time.” Jim leaned in. “My point is, we cannot afford to lose her. She’s got a hand in every pot and she’s doing the work of four. We’re not IBM here. We need good people for cheap. She doesn’t seem to care as long as we vouch for her when the police want to verify an alibi. Her words.”
“Got it. She’ll get royal treatment and Serali will get headphones. Sounds like she’s running that computer to fumes anyway.”
“That’s just it.”
“What?”
“The incident. He began to hear whimpering and moaning. It wasn’t the first time apparently, but he’d always thought it was best to give her privacy. Thought she was having a bit of a breakdown.”
“Nice guy, Serali.”
Jim swallowed, scratching his cheek. “Yeah. Well, he goes next door, thinking he’ll cheer her up. He gets inside and notices this chick – woman – is revving herself up with this monster dildo.”
Leorio sputtered. “Fuck the what now?”
“She’s humping – don’t use any of these words – humping the living breath out of this long glass looking thing. It’s vibrating. It’s not inside her or anything, but it’s pretty clear what she’s getting out of it. Just got her hands wrapped around it and pulling back, riding it like a stick horse. Serali is just watching for a second as she orgasms.”
Leorio caught himself panting. He drew his hand across his mouth. “Wet. I mean, whoa.”
Jim smiled. “Yeah, that’s about what we said.”
“Holy cow. In work? At work?”
“At work. He doesn’t really report it; he says, Fuck, and backs out of the cubicle smack into Sally O.”
“No.”
“Right, who immediately reports her – to me, of all people who don’t give a damn – for noise disruption and sanitation concerns, as well as lewdness and all that. Accuses Serali too, that’s why he spilled out all these details. Point is,” Jim leaned in, knocking on the desk. “This poor woman feels absolutely embarrassed as hell, and yeah, she shouldn’t be getting off at work,” he grinned, “No matter how you or I feel about it.”
Leorio patted his mouth, forcing a stern expression. “I am impartial, Jim.”
“Pow,” Jim pretended to shoot him. “There you go, player.”
Leorio cracked up.
“Hush, Leo. So this girl is going to come in here. You are going to treat her with the utmost respect. You are going to say ma’am and all your manners. She is going to tell you some crazy shit about how she someone medically needs to be getting off every freakin’ three hours – “
“You’re shitting me. She has to get off every – she’s that horny? Where do I sign up? Maybe I’ll get her to cough on me. Or do we have to share needles?”
“Don’t say anything like that. Nothing that could be on a court transcript, please.”
Leorio mimed zipping his lips.

Now Leero was a bit nervous. He didn’t think he could look at the woman in the face, though he obviously had to. He was an amiable guy when he wanted to be, but deep down he was an honest and tame pervert. He couldn’t stop wondering what type of dildo, and what the woman must have looked like using it. He was vaguely sure how it might be used without going inside, and was marveling at the applications.
Then the door creaked.
The woman wasn’t a leggy, thick curled brunette in a miniskirt and platforms, like he was hoping.
She was a short, petite and humble blond in lumpy, almost homemade clothing. Her skirt covered her knees and she was holding onto a giant bag. She had no tits at all.
Leorio felt his erection flag.
The woman looked up, fiercely. She had a young face and absolutely bright blue eyes. “Leorio, is it?”
He nodded. His hips twitched as his erection rammed his zipper. He motioned at the seat he’d left in front of the desk. He had been thinking about moving the chairs to face one another, as he usually did in mediation to physically encourage openness and approachability. Now he was desperately glad he hadn’t. “Please have a seat, Ms. Kurata.”
She was already sitting, though she left the bag on his desk.
“I grabbed you some coffee,” he said, pushing a cup of Starbucks toward her. “But don’t – I mean, if you don’t want it, don’t drink it. Or feel obliged.”
“Thanks, but I don’t drink coffee.” After looking at him an instant, she did take the cup into her hands, holding it tight as if she wanted the warmth. “Thank you, though.”
“No problem, no problem.” He grinned, feeling a surge of confidence. She definitely liked him. His job was saved. “So, Ms. Kurata, you know why you’re here?”
“Yes.”
“Could you tell me what you think of it?”
Asking her was less aggressive than a direct accusation, and he didn’t want her to feel attacked. However, she looked up, instantly furious and cold.
“That asshole doesn’t understand. I’m very private about my condition, I knew no one would understand, I didn’t want to be a public spectacle – “ She looked off at the carpet, suddenly cowed.
Leero recognized that feeling instantly, having looked that way most of the afternoon. “You’re not going to lose your job. You work on the Weller Blue grant, and – and the website’s great. You do good work. Spectacular.”
“I can’t stand to have people looking at me. Despising me. I thought this job would be different; I’d be working alone. But I can’t even have this privacy.”
“I’m sorry,” Leorio said, genuinely hurt by the emotion in her voice. He wasn’t too empathetic naturally, but he cultivated it for his job, watching people carefully. “Look, how can we make this easier?”
“They’re going to tell everyone.” She growled. “Well, fuck them. But the first time I find a note or anything on my desk that makes fun of me, I’m suing the whole place.”
“We understand,” Leorio said. “And we’ll take particular measures to combat any malicious – anything. But let us take care of that. I have to ask; did you think that was acceptable behavior for a workplace?”
“It’s a medical condition,” she snapped.
It’s a good one, he thought, straining. He grabbed his chair arms. “Oh? That’s certainly a – a factor we’ll consider.”
“It’s called PSAS. Persistent Sexual Arousal Syndrome.”
That’s what your parents should have called you, Leorio added, looking over her earnest face. She was flushed; there was such life about her. He felt cavernous, like he had to devour her, to bury himself in her, fit together like hands. He wished the drawer was lower so he’d have something to grind into. “Tell me about that, please.”
“It’s like that restless leg syndrome they advertise on TV.” Her tone was brusque. She sounded like she’d given this speech a dozen times, often to laughing audiences. “I always feel – ready, and it gets very intense sometimes. I’ve worked out managing it on my own. I don’t want surgery.”
I’d never agree to treat it, Leorio thought, creaming against his tented trousers. Just endless exams for this little angel. Thresholds…intensity…
He nodded, frowning with empathy. “Of course not.”
“I’m generally very quiet, and I try not to disturb anyone. But it’s a very real condition for me and it requires some unconventional…mitigation. I don’t mean to upset anyone.”
Her eyes scorched him; she scanned his face for signs of doubt or amusement.
When she didn’t find it, she sighed. Her shoulder’s dropped visibly and her brow smoothed. She was even more beautiful with that great open face. She was clean, he thought, like plate out of the dishwasher – no, like new unworn teeshirts out of the dryer – no…he couldn’t think of anything more romantic than soft flour for the bread he made on Sunday’s. She was making his balls throb.
She smiled at him. “Sorry, this is really terribly embarrassing. You’re being so nice about it.”
“Of course. You’ve been a great sport, frankly. And you have been discrete for the vast majority of your employment.” Words were thick on his tongue, what with the lack of blood, but he’d jotted down notes ahead of time. He hid them with his hand and glanced at them, lifting his thumb. “How long have you worked here? Two years?”
“Three in August – you know, I really think I could just ride this out, with the administration’s support,” she said, shifting to the edge of the chair. “If you could put this on the list of conditions for the health insurance, then maybe people would understand it’s a legitimate handicap. I do my best.”
Leorio was slaughtered by the earnest gush in her tone. Images of her doing her best flooded his mind and suddenly, all the porn he’d watched of buxom pinups seemed strangely vanilla compared to this vixen waif. He saw her face straining, her intense, shameful, secret ride to climax again and again, longing after a man who could understand her insatiable blood thumping urge –
God, he thought, I could get a Playboy column out of this.
“Leorio!”
“I’m sorry,” he twitched. “I just – I was considering our people, our health contacts. I don’t think they’d swing it, unless you can find a few other employees with the same condition.” Preferably aggressive lipstick lesbians who like deflowering innocent web designing pervs in front of a video camera. “However, if it is a legitimate medical condition – “
“It is!” she barked, standing up. “You think – “
“No, no, you misunderstood – I misspoke. I meant, I meant because it is, or you know, on the condition of it being real,” he cringed, feeling himself tanking. “Then, and uh, therefore, we can do something about it. Get some real action down. How does that sound?”
The double meaning echoed loudly in his ears. He thought, screaming simultaneously, You IDIOT and Say you’d love it!
She nodded and sat down. “I apologize.”
“Don’t, don’t. Could you…I’m sorry, but would you consider going to someplace private when you need to…finish yourself off?”
She looked up, a bit startled. It was casual though, not obscene, so she let it slide. “I was trying the women’s room, but it’s actually very crowded it there, and hard to – it’s easier to brace in my chair. It just ended up being more private to stay in my chair. I thought of buying a car, and I could go there, but it was too much money and it’d take way to long to go down to the garage and back up every single time.”
Leorio cleared his throat. “I’m sorry. Bracing?”
She gestured to the bag. “I was supposed to bring that.”
He got up carefully, scraping his erection low against the table edge, hidden. He looked into the bag. There was what he first instinctively identified as either a sausage or a pool toy, or maybe an abstract sculpture. It was a long curved dildo, made out of rubbery plastic with a vibrating device laced through the center.
He choked, grabbing the desk. He imagined her little hands wrapped tight around it, licked lips begging the air for mercy as the rode this pole.
She smiled.
“Sorry! Excuse me – “ he burst out.
“Hey, if there’s anyone who understands involuntary arousal, it’s me,” she joked.
He grinned. “Right. Well,” he desperately wanted to banter with her; it was his defense mechanism, his affection mechanism, and his flirtation gambit. But he couldn’t risk it. “Can I touch it?”
“Not a snake. Just looks like one. But trust me, I don’t let biters down there.”
She’s funny, Leorio thought, relieved. He grinned, hefting the thing. It was soft and firm, really nothing like a cock. More like the idea of a cock, like a description 12 girls would give each other at a sleepover: It’s this long thing, and it’s sort of squishy and then it gets hard and shivers!
And then you feel so good, he added, lecherously.
He glanced up at her.
It was an accident; the intensity of their eyes together made him smug.
“Leorio,” she warned.
“I’m sorry,” he corrected. He held his hands up, laying the thing on the desk. “I’m really sorry.”
“Sure.”
He looked at it.
She grabbed it away, blushing. “It’s not like I put it in me! Stop imagining it. I just put it between my legs when it’s not enough.”
“When it’s not enough?”
She dropped the thing to her lap, tightening her hands. “I – I usually wear a – one of those – it’s not important.”
“What?”
She pulled her thighs together, squeezing tightly.
“Vibrating panties?” He knew he sounded gleeful, but it was too much, it was just too much. “You wear buzzers – how often? How long?”
She sat still for a moment, noble to the core.
Lifting a set of folders judiciously in front of his trousers, Leorio stood up. She was too beautiful a character, in too luscious a predicament. All he could do as a gentleman was excuse himself.
She dropped her head into her arms, pulling her knees together.
Leorio kicked himself. If she was crying, he was toast, and he deserved it. Poor thing.
But the second he touched her shoulder, he knew it was different. She was shivering and so overheated he could feel it on his palm, just as his fingertips brushed her sweater. She was orgasming, trying to quench her lust with pressure and intent.
He brushed his hand over her back.
“S-stop.”
He leapt away. “I’m sorry! I thought – “
“It’s alright,” she said, breathless. She looked up and he saw she was crying. “It’s just that…it’s been getting worse. That’s why I got caught. I didn’t use to need it, not during the day.”
“It’s getting worse? Are you sure you shouldn’t get treated?”
“Why?” she snarled, flashing her eyes at him. “So I can be some castrated prude who cringes through sex? I know women that can’t even be loose enough to let some guy put it in. They bled; it hurts. At least I can get some pleasure, even if it is alone.”
At that moment, he would give the world to comfort her. He moved near and put his hand on her back. “It’s alright.”
He embraced her.
“Don’t touch me.”
“Okay.”
She reached up for the toy on the table. “Don’t look at me.”
He turned away. He heard the buzz.
She gasped quietly. He dripped into his pants.
Moments later, she stood, dropping the toy in her bag and walking to the door. “You can fire me.”
“You need someplace private when you’re at work,” he said quickly. “Why don’t you come here and I’ll leave? I’ll take a long lunch and you’ll have your privacy. Problem solved! And you can stay in this position – as a web designer here.”
She shook her head, then thought about it. “You’d let me use your office?”
“Sure. It’s company property; it’s for any employee. You’re one of our best,” he shrugged. “I’d hate to lose you over something so petty.”
“Thanks.”
“That’s the office. If you’re human, I got resources for ya.”
She laughed and left. “Thank you, Leorio.”

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