A few years ago I had a job in a large travel agency in London. Being highly sexed I have to 'see to myself' once or sometimes twice a day so I would regularly have to nip to the toilets and spend 5 minutes relieving my tensions but the place was grotty and I did not enjoy being there. Then I 'discovered' the stock room. This was a small room in the basement where we kept the large numbers of brochures and forms that we used. As staff only visited the room in the evening, to get fresh stocks of brochures for the next day, I reckoned that it would be private enough for my needs. The fact that it smelt better than the toilets and had a comfortable, if tatty, chair that I could use, were bonuses. Finding time for play was easy enough as my job involved tasks, like taking mail around and popping out to deliver tickets, that took me away from my desk and made it acceptable for me to be out of sight for a while. Things went well for a few months and I got to love my little hiding place, visiting it whenever the need arose.
One morning I was in need or some fun and had nothing pressing to do in the office so I made for the stock room. I did my usual preparations of dropping my knicks, popping them into my pocket, making myself comfortable on the old chair and then set to it. After a couple of minutes, things were getting nice. My clitoris was letting me know that my fingers were doing their job and that my orgasm was very close. I closed my eyes and concentrated on the erotic scene playing in my head. Soon I lost touch with where I was and was totally focussed in the pleasure I was having. Next I was opening my eyes and seeing my manager staring at me. She did not look amused and simply told me to sort myself out and get upstairs. I was horrified and expected to be the laughing stock of the office. She, however, said nothing to anyone about the incident but I found it so hard to look her in the eye again (and I missed my little breaks ) that I soon moved on to a new job.
Janice - 46
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