Sara's office could have been worse in terms of boring, characterless international offices. She had long since mastered the ability to shut out the hazy hum of phones ringing, printers, copiers, coffee makers, and muffled chatter. When she gave herself the time to focus on it, it had transformed into white noise that was almost relaxing.
But Sara didn't have much of it these days. Everything was pressing. There was a deadline for everything. The office had become her life, and her life had become the office. Her routine was to get up on Monday, dress, eat, commute, work, return, wash, and repeat. She might as well copy Monday and paste it through the week until Sunday, when she can spend her free time preparing to start all over again.
Sara knew she'd lost her spark somewhere along the way. She had a nagging feeling she was missing something important. Every time she left a room, she patted her imaginary pockets, a subconscious bodily tick she'd picked up somewhere in the last two years, as if she was always forgetting something. That sensation was with her at all times of the day. But it wasn't her keys that she'd misplaced. It was much more fundamental than that.
Sure, she had her moments of rebellion. She would sneak out for a cigarette now and then and enjoy its badness. Maybe once a month she'd wear something sexy beneath her charcoal trouser suit, something only she knew about and could touch. Her little mutiny, her little secret. It was a minor detail, but it caused her to stand taller, walk bolder, and smile a little more than usual. She needed to guard it: to rebel too frequently would be to trample the embers, and it would no longer be unique.
But it wasn't sufficient anymore. She had given up keeping track of how long it had been since her last date or even her last hookup. What had happened to her, she questioned. She once took chances. She used to be impulsive. She felt ashamed that she had given it all up for a T-shirt bra and a good salary. She desperately wanted to get back in touch with herself, but she knew she wouldn't be able to do it until she took a chance and forced it.
But today she did feel unique, and she was determined to make it happen at all costs. The deadly pressure that she had allowed to build up uncontrolled needed to be released, so she needed to open a valve.
Mark was the next to appear. Sara had interviewed Mark for the position; she later realized she had been flirting with him during the interview, which made her uncomfortable. Mark was new. He had remarked he was flexible in any position, and she recalled flushing as she flubbed the "oh really" inadvertently. She was five years older than him at 27, and he was clever, clean, cocky, and brilliant. Since the interview, there had been an ethereal discomfort between them that belied any attraction.
The adult course of action would have been to brush it off, perhaps even make light of it, and limit it to an awkward kiss at an office party. But Mark was going to give Sara the break she needed from responsibility.
She looked up from her desk to see Mark. At his own workstation, he was organizing paperwork. She opened her instant messaging program and started typing.
Mark, says Sara. The office is experiencing a crisis.
Sara regarded. After reading the message, Mark's brow furrowed slightly in fear. His gaze swept the office before locking upon hers. He noticed her cheeky grin as it appeared on her face.
Says Mark Salut, Sara. What kind of emergency do you have?
There will shortly be an impromptu fire drill, according to Sara.
Mark declares:
is there?
Yes, says Sara. Everyone is getting out. Fast.
Therefore, the office will be vacant, explains Mark.
Two of us should remain behind, advises Sara, to ensure that everyone leaves the area securely. You have recently been elevated to assistant fire officer. Can you handle the job?
There is only one way to learn, according to Mark.
When no one was looking, Sara went casually over to the wall, checked that no one was watching, grasped the fire alarm lever, and pulled. Sara stood slowly, a sly smile spreading across her face. Uncomfortable alarms started to wail, and people started to get up from their workstations. Suddenly, the workplace was filled with noise.
Sara screamed above the commotion, "Everyone out, NOW."
She held open the fire escape door while standing by it and pushed her coworkers out one at a time, like paratroopers. Last to leave was Mark, but she slammed the door shut before he could. The workplace was noisy and empty, and it was just her and him.
Without saying a word, they locked a hot and intense kiss as she placed her back against the door and pulled him to her by the tie. He slammed his weight into her while encircling the back of her head with one powerful palm that was holding onto her long hair.
As they kissed, the sprinkler system activated since it appeared that the heat between them may cause them to catch fire. His aftershave's scent was drowned in the cool water that was poured over them, and his white shirt stuck to his tall, lean figure. She poked about within his body with one hand while unbuttoning her jeans with the other.
While still gripping her hair and pushing her against the fire escape door, Mark took a step back and saw her enjoying herself in expectation of him. As the sprinklers doused them, he heard her breath increase and her body swell with increasing pleasure.
She said in a low voice, almost to herself, "We barely have five minutes before the fire brigade shows up. They met eyes. You need to fuck me now, and you need to do it immediately.
Her dress pants fell to the ground as she kicked them off. She had on heels, a lace thong with her hand inside, silk suspenders, her shirt, and her jacket in addition to her long, creamy legs being covered in dark stockings with lace tops.
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She swiftly unfastened Mark's belt and zipper with her free hand and discovered him to be thick, hard, and prepared. She took it out and caressed it as she touched her own body before bringing him close to her and lifted her leg to his waist. As Sara led him inside of her, he wrapped her leg around himself and felt the moisture in her.
As he assumed control and started to carefully and gradually push inside, she gasped. She wasn't willing to wait since she needed him instantly in its whole. With one hand still enjoying herself and the strength of his hold in her hair, she started to grind up and down him while holding him at the back of his neck for leverage.
In order to get her to be on her tiptoes, Mark raised her leg a little higher. He then gave her lengthy, gratifying strokes in and out. He was virtually pulling Sara off the ground and slamming her against the door as if he were going to screw her through it, and Sara could feel his strength.
She started to follow his thrusts with her own as she inched closer and closer as her legs grew weak from the familiar wave of pleasure that raced up her body. As Mark entered her, the waves of pleasure grew stronger and developed into physical convulsions that grasped him tightly and brought him closer to his own zenith.
Sara's claws dug into Mark's neck as their holds tightened, and Mark's hand pulled Sara's head to one side by her hair. With each flick of her finger, Sara's free hand worked frantically on herself, further weakening her legs.
They both had their mouths wide, their faces turned up toward the ceiling, their eyes closed, and they were both drenched in agony.
Finally, Sara allowed the tsunami to crash down on her, and all of her muscles instantly went into spasms, shattering her entire body while she yelled obscenities through clenched teeth. Mark was engulfed in her by the spasms, which caused him to lose control. He let out a guttural howl as he reached his climax inside her orgasm-ridden body.
The sounds of the alarms began to reappear as their senses came back to themselves, and they collapsed into each other, smiling, beneath the water that was still pouring over them.
They made contact with one other's foreheads and kissed. It was time to leave since the fire department was on its way. With Sara, a deadline was always present.