Marcia jumped when the phone in her cubicle rang. With a feeling of dread, she picked the handset off the cradle.
“This is Marcia. Yes, Byron, I’ll be right in.” Her heart sank. As if being marched into a prison camp, she stood up, and stiffly walked towards Byron’s office door. She could hear his voice behind the door, and she opened it without knocking.
Byron was sitting on his desktop, talking on the phone. The fifty-year-old short slender balding executive with the short-cropped beard looked up at Marcia, and waved her in. The thirty-five-year-old slender woman in the scooping satin blouse and short skirt closed the door behind her and timidly approached Byron. Without even pausing his loud phone conversation, Byron spread his dangling legs and simply pointed to his crotch. Knowing the drill, Marcia stood between Byron’s legs and unbuckled his belt. She unsnapped his pants, unzipped his fly, reached into his briefs, and pulled out his all-too-familiar cock.
As Byron continued his phone negotiations, Marcia reached out and stroked his cock to full hardness. Byron ran his free hand though her long thick strawberry blonde hair one time, and then slid his palm down her exposed chest, into her blouse, and over her white lacy bra. His fingers slid into her bra cup, and he fondled her small left breast.