The Office Slut

Milton Scrag glanced around at the sea of curious, indifferent, or hostile faces, while nervously following the busty blonde toward the far side of the room. Cubical after cubical passed, and he looked inside at the assortment of entombed humanity. He saw many women, some worth a second glance. Two had short skirts, one shouldn't have, she was older than dirt. The other was a fine looking woman, but she was obviously a bitch. You could see it in her eyes, if you bothered looking at her eyes, while being presented with a view of the edge of her white panties showing beneath the short skirt.
 Milton did look at her eyes, briefly. She didn't bother closing her legs, and Milton didn't bother looking away. Three more cubicals contained some fine breasts. One was so close and so open, that he was tempted to reach down into her blouse and scoop them out for a better look. She didn't even glance his way. The blonde before him made a rude noise and continued on to the far side of the office. He looked back to see at least a hundred cubicals in the huge room. It was packed.
 All of these thoughts passed through Milton's head, as he followed the alluring sway of the blonde's hips. Suddenly the hips stopped swaying and she turned to face him.
 "The new guy is the farthest from the window?" he asked with a nervous laugh.
 "Yes," she said coldly, then pointed toward the empty cubical. "Stop by personnel and fill out some papers before you go home," she said, turning away and promptly forgetting that he existed.
 Milton felt small and insignificant. He gave the nearby workers a nervous smile and sank from sight, into the thinly padded chair. He turned in it experimentally. It squeaked loud enough to wake the dead. He twisted and turned, trying to find a tune in the horrible squeak. Suddenly he heard a shoe strike the far side of the partition. He had only been at the desk for moments and he had annoyed somebody already.
 "Sorry," he called nervously. He slid the chair forward. It grated annoyingly. He looked down to see a sheet of glass, possibly plexi-glass, beneath his wheels. It was probably used to make the chair move easily on the thick carpet. He didn't like it. He immediately pushed the chair back and slid the glass out of sight beneath his desk with his feet. That was better, the chair slid smoothly and quietly, back and forth. He looked around himself and noticed that the partitions around him only came down to within two feet of the floor. He could see feet, desks, and file cabinets in the cubicals around him. His back was against the wall. He saw a black streak on the wall where many other chairs had brushed against it.
 "Welcome to telemarketing the Telechoice way," Milton mumbled, reading the cover as he took the papers from his briefcase, which Ms. Witeasha had thrust at him only moments before. He never thought that he would sink so low, as to attempt telemarketing. But when they offered a flat rate, plus commissions, he just couldn't resist. It was better than selling vacuum cleaners, he thought. He turned to page 7 and found a full line of vacuum cleaners. He chuckled as he quickly turned the page and came upon the sexy lingerie section. He could sell anything he liked, anything he believed he could sell. He had about as many choices as a typical flier of sale items from a hardware store or supermarket. It consisted of 12 pages. Milton really believed that there was something in there that would strike his fancy. His eyes went again and again to the underwear section. How long had it been since he'd had sex, or dated a girl that looked like that? He thought to himself as he looked at an exotic black haired girl in see-through underwear. He could almost see her pussy lips through the flimsy material. He would give anything to suck on those fresh pussy lips, or sink his stiff cock into them. How long since a girl like that? Never, he thought to himself, licking his lips. Most of his sexual experiences had been with whores, and most of them looked like a typical gum chewing crack whore.
 Milton turned to a selection of riding lawn mowers and decided to start there. It was fall, people were lazy and hated raking leaves. This was the time to offer a riding lawn mower for sale.
 He kicked off his shoes, as he turned pages in a lose-leaf notebook, until he reached the proper prepared speech and began memorizing the speel about lawn mowers.
 "Good (enter morning or evening) (enter sir or madame)," he read silently. "I am calling today to offer you the top of the line Scutter riding lawn mowers with automatic height adjustment and our patented vacuum bagging system. Are you interested in a Scutter, (enter sir or ma'am)?."
 He visualized saying this to a prospective customer, but just saying it in his head made him tongue-tied. Shaking his head, he turned to the next section. It was a dating service. Maybe he should start there. People said he had a sexy telephone voice, even though his real image was somewhat less than perfect. He was middle-aged, bald, and slightly pudgy.
 "Are you tired of being alone?" Milton read with a twist of his lips. Damned right he was tired, but some lame dating service would not help him. The minute they got a load of his bald head, and toad-like body, they would be outta there. They always were. The excuses ranged from the common headache to "I have syphilis".
 "Oh Yes!" a female voice moaned from the far side of his partition. He started to stand up, but thought better of it. All eyes would go to his sweaty, bald head the moment it peeked over the partition. He sat back in his chair, then impulsively slid his chair back and looked beneath his desk. To his amazement, he found that the sheet of glass, which he'd discarded beneath the desk, made an excellent reflector. Pushed half under the partition as it was, it showed a shapely pair of legs jutting from a short skirt. At the moment the legs were spread, but from the angle on the floor he couldn't see actual panties. Her chair was in the way.
 Milton sat up, grabbed a sheet of paper and stood.
 "Is there a copier around here?" he asked. The woman was beautiful. She gave him a smile and nodded, continuing her speech on the phone as she did. She seemed very civil and was certainly beautiful. She had dark brown hair, a nice face, and a great figure. She was wearing a white blouse under the open jacket of a blue suit type outfit with small white stripes. On her it looked good, but not half as good as the friendly smile. He wasn't used to that.
 She held up one finger while she spoke on the phone. Finally she covered the phone and pointed behind her.
 "The door on the right side of the room," she said in an exaggerated whisper. She suddenly uncovered the phone and spoke. Her sexy red lips seemed to hypnotise Milton.