Prompt: Her pussy begged to be touched, and as soon as she found some privacy, she raced a hand beneath her skirt. How did she get so desperately turned on in the middle of the work day?

Alyssa paced along the floor to ceiling glass wall of her office. She was the youngest executive of her company, only 31 when she became the VP of product and research. A meteoric rise; that’s how the WSJ had put it in a recent interview. At the company, she was known for being direct, and cutthroat. Not sugar coating feedback and demanding excellence. She was pacing in her tall, red heels, almost excited.

“If he’s late I swear to god,” she hissed, nearly laughing.

Her secretary, a young man with a clipboard cleared his throat.

“He should be coming out of the elevator now.”

“I want you to sit in for this, take notes.”

“Yes Ma’am,” he said promptly, moving to the back corner of the room.

Another man appeared coming across the open office. He walked with purpose though didn’t dare look across to the glass windows. Alyssa watched him, tracking him all the way until he got to her door.

“Frank, I’m glad you could come by. I wanted to talk to you about the new device mockups your team submitted, did you look them over?”

Frank was older, maybe late-40s, and had a bushy gray mustache which tussled as he spoke.

“Well, yes, I did-”

“Yes?” Alyssa interrupted, holding out her hand, “so then you let that design make it all the way to my desk?”

Her tone was condescending as she stared up at him, her shoulders squared. Frank looked to the floor.

“We were meeting the specifications-”

“The specification was to make something people would want to buy, not a not a plastic brick Frank. Do you think people want plastic bricks? Do you think they will give us money for uninspired shitty, little boxes?”

She breathed out hard, spitting out the words as she moved closer.

“I.. I.. we…”

“Don’t mumble, Frank, you know I hate that. I want an answer. You lead a team, I expect you to lead, to have vision. Now, is your vision a shitty little box?”

Frank picked a small square of carpet to affix his stare, clenching his fist. His heart was beating, he hated being in this office.

“No,” he said finally, quietly.

“No, then why did this design make it to my desk.”

Another long silence as Frank tried not to shift his weight, his face noticeably red. Alyssa pushed in even closer, looking up at him, Invading his ability to avoid her.

“I.. I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I want you to apologize. That much should be obvious. I want you to tell me this won’t happen again. That you’re a fucking manager that can manage a team and doesn’t need a baby sitter. I don’t want every little piece of trash you write down Frank, I want finished, thoughtful designs. I want products we can market. Do you understand me?”

She leaned in, forcing him to look at her. Though she was nearly a foot shorter, they stood eye to eye.

“I..”

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry, I will do better.”

His voice was nearly a whisper as he pushed out the words, visibly shaking. Her fingers touched his chin, forcing his full attention. She looked at him with a sense of pity, her voice suddenly softer.

“Thank you for apologizing Frank. I know you’ll do better for me next time. Go back to your office, I think this was a productive meeting.”

He only nodded, not moving until she pulled back first, but shooting out of the office space the second she did. The man gritted his teeth as he blazed across the floor back to the elevator.

“Read me back the notes you took,” Alyssa said, watching as Frank went.

“Ms. Arzen and Frank, the design team leader of A8, spoke about his recent showcase and had a productive conversation about it’s shortcomings and ways to improve it. Frank agreed fully that the designs could be better and he would improve them with the team.”

“Very good,” she cooed, “now go find something to do.”

Her assistant quickly left, closing her door softly behind him. With the tap of the button on the wall, the large glass windows turned totally opaque, hiding her from view. Her heels thumped against the carpet as she moved to the chair her assistant had been sitting in. Her thighs squeezed together eagerly with each step. She felt powerful, and overwhelmed with the urge to find release. Something about yelling at her subordinates. Degrading them.. it always put her in a mood.

Sinking into the chair, she slid her fingers along the hem of her dress. It was professional, still above the knee. It pulled back easily revealing her bare slit. Another guilty pleasure, nothing between her cunt and the world. Her fingers teased delicately along her slit, gliding across the wet skin. She was too eager to tease for long, pushing a finger down, rubbing over her hole, aching and wet. She used her other hand to slid along her clit, the swollen nub begging for attention.

As her fingers moved, she couldn’t help what it might be like to step on Franks balls with the heel of her shoe. The face he might make. She couldn’t help but groan, wondering if it would be similar to what he looked like minutes ago. It gave her a satisfaction she couldn’t describe as she obsessively rubbed circles around her sensitive nub, moaning softly. Everything between her legs exposed to her office.

She was soon pumping two fingers inside of her, juices coating everything and drooling down her butt onto the leather seat. The chair already had a slight mark from the countless times she had done this before, and the room filled with sloppy, sloshing noises as she went faster.

“Fuck..” she whimpered, clenching her jaw as she through back her head in pure elation. Her legs shaking as her fingers continued to work, fucking herself.

“Fuck.. I needed that,” muttered to herself as she finally let her muscles relax. Between her legs juices coated her thighs, and her lips pulsed with slowing waves of bliss. Taking a deep breath, she stood back up and pushed down the roll of her dress around her waist. With each step now, she could feel the evidence of her orgasm. Across her office to the small intercom.

“Come back in here, I think you spilled something on the chair,” she hissed at her assistant sitting just outside.

She smiled with a wicked grin as he quickly came running, holding a small container of wipes. Seeing his eagerness, and breathing in her scent that filled the room, she couldn’t help but grin and watch.