Nancy at the Office

by Bad Puppy

The elevator doors opened, and Nancy walked out into the darkened entrance hall of the office. For a minute she just stood there, thinking how different it looked at night than in the daytime. Then the elevator doors closed and she smiled, sighed, and shivered.

She walked slowly across the entrance hall, her steps echoing until she reached the carpeted hallway. She walked to her desk, looking around at the empty cubicles lit only by the light from the city outside. "Working late," she whispered.

She put her purse on her desk, took off her heels, and undid two buttons at the back of her silk dress. It slid off her and she was naked. She sighed again, and began playing with herself.

She wandered around for a long time, rubbing her breasts and pussy, stroking her skin, rubbing herself against her desk, other desks, dividers, the copier. She turned on the copier and made copies of her breasts, her pussy. The machine was warm, and hummed softly. She had to wipe off the wetness of her pussy from the glass. The office would look very different to her tomorrow.

She wandered into the dark entrance hall, and watched the elevators go by, up to the restaurant at the top of the building and back again. The tiles were cool under her bare feet. She rubbed her clitoris slowly, deliciously, thinking about what would happen if the security system failed and an elevator full of restaurant-goers stopped at her floor instead.

An elevator slowed... and stopped. The bell sounded on her floor. Nancy was at first paralyzed with fear, but then ran back toward her desk. She reached it as the doors were opening. She picked up her dress, purse, and shoes and hid behind the central island of offices.

She heard the footsteps and jingling keys of a security guard. She was trembling and afraid; why, then, she thought, was she still so turned-on? He approached closer; she heard him go around one side of the island, and she went around the other. When he was safely on the other side, she ran quickly and silently toward the entrance hall again.

What would they say when they saw the photocopies on her desk?

The elevator was still waiting there. She dashed across as the doors started to move and just got in as they closed. The elevator started down. Nancy felt a tug at her arm and heard a tearing sound. She turned and watched with horror as her dress, caught in the outer door, disappeared through the crack between door and frame. There was more tearing and the buttons fell to the floor of the elevator.

Nancy was shaking with fear and sex as the elevator dropped to the lobby. She dumped her shoes and purse and began pressing the elevator buttons frantically. She was on the verge of coming but she couldn't even grasp what was going to happen, couldn't imagine even the humiliation of running into the security guard again. It was useless: all the floors between hers and the lobby were secured, and the buttons had no effect. Had everything gone wrong, or was this what she had wanted all along?

When the elevator reached the lobby, she pressed the "close door" button repeatedly. Once, the doors opened convulsively, a crack, and she got a glimpse of a dark suit, a white shirt. It was only a matter of time.

A light flashed on over the "close door" button: "not in service". The doors rolled open wide.

For a second, Nancy had a vision of what they must be seeing: a pretty young woman with curly red hair and pale skin, completely naked and barefoot, her face and throat pink down to the tops of her breasts, her body trembling, her nipples hard, and her pubic area glistening; and the reflection of themselves in the mirror in the elevator, three men in tuxedos and three women in evening gowns.

Then she began to come. Not for the last time that night.