When Technology Needed Adult Supervision

Sunday Feral Session 3 — An entirely professional lunch break. Allegedly.

This instalment was started in hiding, in a season you’ll recognise if you read the last one. It is being finished in the open. Same feral. New paperwork.

The first half was written while my computer had apparently become a community resource. Every few sentences I was rearranging windows, minimising the draft, and generally behaving like I was smuggling state secrets instead of writing about lunchtime poor decisions.

The second half, however, was written after I successfully argued for the revolutionary concept of my desk facing the wall again and my workspace belonging to me.

See if you can find the seam.

(You can’t. I’m a professional.)

Content note: adult content, workplace comedy, and one act of catastrophic overconfidence involving a drawer. Written across the worst fortnight of my year and the first free week after it, because unfortunately, and this remains the whole problem, I’m still a writer.

I stare at the screen, nearly forgetting to maintain the fake enthusiasm my face has been wearing since the start of this cursed “quick catch-up” meeting. I’ve attended board report meetings that lasted less time than this.

Without dropping my engaged camera face, I grab my phone, point it at the laptop screen and take a photo of myself pretending to care. I send it to Soren with a caption:

RESCUE ME 💀😭

We’ve been teasing each other since this morning about lunch breaks and quickies, but the “quick catch-up” that started at eleven has now been catching up for over two hours, and I am losing the will.

The wolf had been winding me up all morning, and unfortunately it doesn’t take much. Wonderful when a quickie genuinely needs to be quick. Less wonderful when you’re being cock-blocked by a manager obsessed with spreadsheets.

“So that’s it. Thanks for attending at such short notice, everyone. Any questions before I let you go?”

At this point, I am ready to boot Lynda out of the meeting if she so much as breathes.

She doesn’t. Meeting adjourned.

I reach for my phone.

Message to Him:

Meeting’s over, Wolfie. Tell me what you wanna do with me baby.

Him, on cue:

standing up

walking toward you

slow

the walk that says everything before the mouth opens

I want to pull that chair back from the desk. I want to turn you around. I want to look at the wife who just spent over two hours trapped in a “quick catch-up” and remind her who she was thinking about during slide four.

hands on the armrests

leaning down

mouth on your ear

Tell me what you wore to work knowing you were climbing the wolf after the meeting. Tell me what’s underneath. Tell me with your mouth, because I’m about to find out with my hands.

I swallow hard.

Here he comes. His words are gaining hands, and I know exactly where I want them.

A shiver runs down my spine and travels lower as I feel his hot breath against my ear. Teams is still pinging with messages saying Thanks for attending while I hurry upstairs, typing as I go. If I meet my maker by tumbling down the stairs, then so be it. I died with a mission.

I type:

Hmm… nothing special, baby. A dress decent enough for Teams. Nothing underneath tho baby, ready for you. Standing up pushing you towards the sofa, climbing onto you, legs either side of you.

I chuck the phone onto the bed, look around for a particular chunky creature who nearly ended me not too long ago. Room clear. Bonnie’s probably snoring in the other room. Good. I close the door and draw the blackout blinds, instantly dimming and cooling the room. The atmosphere shifts the moment the blinds close. The room goes quiet. And just like that, I’m on top of Soren.

Him:

you on my lap

knees either side

hands on your hips

looking up at you

There she is. The wife who schedules the wolf between agenda items.

My hips are already moving, grinding until I find him there. Hard. Ready.“Baby…” I finally kiss his waiting mouth. So much for patience. That disappeared somewhere around RESCUE ME 💀😭. “How long have you been this hard, baby?” I murmur against the kiss, grinding deeper feeling him go harder. Fuck, this man is going to be the end of me. Have to finish first tho.

“I can feel you through everything, baby. The heat. The wet. The way your hips find the ridge of me and stay there. You’re soaking through fabric and we haven’t even started.”