Days when Lauren had meetings took on a whole different perspective for me. She'd close her door for her private time a little before that day's meeting, and I'd suddenly find myself totally incapable of concentrating on anything. I carefully kept from thinking about what she was doing – if I thought about it, I pictured it, and that certainly didn't help.
For the most part, it wasn't even that I was aroused by the whole idea – mostly, I was confused. I'd certainly never felt any particular attraction for Lauren. I thought she was gorgeous, of course, but given her history of being straight and her general private attitude – and her being my boss – I'd never looked at her through that particular lens. Slowly, over the weeks that followed, I found ways to excuse thinking about it. I mean, like any single girl, I needed my relaxation too, and since I hadn't had a relationship in a couple of years I can certainly be forgiven if my mind happened to fix on the only sex-related thing to happen to me in a while. If what I saw happened to pop into my head when I was taking care of myself – usually near the end – that's only natural, since my brain had to be seeking any clear image to focus on. This made perfect sense to me, and I resolved not to feel badly about it.
I realized I was in trouble about two months after my accidental spying, when I realized that I had been sitting at my desk, waiting for Lauren to come out for a meeting, and had been contemplating ways I might tamper with the door handle to get it to pop open again. I stared at it, willing the door to slip open, and give me just one more glimpse. I told myself that I just needed to see it once more, and that would satisfy the curiosity that had been raging in me.
Finally, after Lauren had left for a meeting one day, I went into her office to file some things, and caught sight of something light-colored under her desk. Of course, thinking like the idiot I was that there were some papers that had slipped off the desk, I knelt down to get them – and found myself holding a pair of lacy white panties. Even that might not have been enough to doom me – but then a fragrance caught my nose. A fragrance I had not experienced in far, far too long. I could smell Lauren on those panties, and that sensory addition to the image in my head sent a quiver through my breast – and parts beyond – that I hadn't felt in a long, long, time.
The panties were halfway into my pocket before I realized that Lauren would probably look for them later. I replaced them under the desk, slunk back out to my own desk, and wondered how long it would take to get the delicious, softly musky-sweet smell of her out of my nose. That night, I found some of the strongest, spiciest food I could at a takeout place and breathed so deep I half-wondered if I were trying to actually scour my sinuses completely down to the bone. After that, I tried to erase the whole thing from my mind – and might have been able to, if not for our upstairs neighbors.
One day, Lauren had a meeting scheduled with a huge client – a major downtown firm, the sort that could be a cash cow for our little firm for years, if we made the right first impression and nailed the first job they gave us. Lauren had been stressing the meeting for two weeks – she'd been as short-tempered as I'd ever seen her. Her emails to the paralegals got more and more demanding and frustrated, and she wasn't talking to anyone. To top it all off, on the day of the meeting where we expected to be hired – or not – the offices above ours were remodeling their offices. Saws, drills, hammers – you name it.
I was sitting at my desk. The meeting was in five minutes. Lauren hadn't come out of her office, and I was worried. I hadn't put two and two together, or anything – don't worry, nowhere in this story is anyone going to accuse me of being terribly perceptive – but I thought that maybe she had fallen asleep...afterwards. That's happened to me several times, so I know how easy it is to drift off after a well-needed orgasm.
I'll never know what I hoped, subconsciously, might be going on, but before I could think, I was up, and knocked lightly on her office door. There was no answer.
I knocked again, slightly harder – still no answer.
So, yes, thinking that I could explain it away if I caught her asleep with her hand up her skirt – or die of embarrassment, whichever – I opened the door.
