Supply Closet

Tight spaces...

Everyone on our little desk island knew that Tom had recently broken up with his girlfriend, and we were all trying our best to tread carefully around him, making sure not to make any jokes about how much it sucks being single etc. For the most part, we had been doing well, but he had still been staring into space or going out to “grab things from the car” multiple times a day.

It had only been a week since the breakup, and almost everything seemed to trigger him, so when I saw the calendar reminder pop up on his PC screen–”VACATION WITH JULIE!!!!”–I knew he was gonna be kinda fucked.

Sure enough, he stared at his screen for a moment then just pushed his chair back, standing up from his desk and walking toward the little supply closet down the hall. I watched as the door closed behind him, expecting him to reappear quickly with a handful of pens or notebooks. But he didn’t. I glanced around at my colleagues, but they were arguing over who was covering the late shift, and no one had noticed Tom’s absence.

I stood up, my heart thumping already. I liked Tom. He was the sensitive, nerdy type, and I always wished I could do more for him.

Straightening my blouse, I walked across the office and down the hallway, the sound of conversation and telesales fading behind me. At the door to the supply closet, I looked both ways and stepped inside quickly.

Tom was at the other end of the small space. He stood bolt upright, wiping his face on the sleeve of his shirt. He turned, clearing his throat, trying to maintain his composure, but it was clear that he had been crying.

I felt my heart break for him.

“Sarah,” he said. “I was just getting some pens.” He held them up lamely. “Do you need anything?”

I nodded, taking a step toward him. “I just wanted to see if you were okay,” I said. “I saw the reminder on your screen.”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” he said, shaking his head and trying to smile. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not fine,” I said. I shrugged. “It’s okay to not be fine.”

He let out a breath. “I just don’t get it,” he said. “I thought we were good…”

I nodded. “Yeah. I get that. Breaking up sucks. But there are benefits. Like being single.”

I took another step closer. I wanted to make it better. I wanted to help.

I wanted to take that look off his face.

“Yeah, right,” he said.

“Really. There are other women out there,” I said, biting my lip. “If I’m being totally honest…and I don’t mean to offend you…but…Julie was kind of a bitch.”

He laughed. “Maybe.” He laughed again and then shook his head. It seemed to break the tension in the small space. “Yeah, I guess she was. But she was my bitch. Now I don’t even have her.”

I nodded. “Life will get better, I promise. One day soon you’ll probably have your face buried some other woman’s huge boobs and you’ll be like ‘Julie who?’”

“Yeah…” he said, his tone doubtful. “Maybe.”

“I’m serious!” I said, but I could tell he was having trouble picturing it. “I bet there’s loads of women out there that would be happy to do that for you. You’re a good guy, Tom. Good job, funny, good looking.”

He scoffed. “I’ve got women queuing up outside my apartment.”

“I’m serious,” I said, taking one more step toward him, my head suddenly filled with thoughts I shouldn’t be having. We were close now. Very close. I turned back and glanced at the door for a second, checking it was still closed. “Look.”

My hands went to the hem of my blouse. I lifted it up to my chin in one awkward movement, struggling slightly to get it over my tits. My bra was black lace, my cleavage spilling over the tops of the cups, the nipples already hard and pointing through the thin material. I pushed them together with my forearms and made them bulge even more, my heart racing.

“See?” I said, my voice a little breathier than I’d expected. “Boobs.”

I tried to laugh, but it came out as a little sigh.

“What are you doing?” Tom asked, his eyes darting around the room, trying to land anywhere other than my huge tits. I felt suddenly electric; to be stood here, like this, on display, for my co-worker. Embarrassing and exciting in equal measure.

“Relax,” I whispered. “Look. Titty.”

Tom looked, his eyes going wide.

It was a look that made me want to give him more.

My hands went to the button of my pants. I undid it, then pulled down the zipper. I hooked my finger in the waistband of my pants and my panties and pushed them down, just enough to show him the soft line of my smooth naked pussy.

“See?” I said. I tilted my hips forward, presenting myself to him. “Isn’t my pussy nice?” My nipples tingled, tight and sensitive from the sudden exposure, and I could feel myself getting wet.

“What the fuck, Sarah,” Tom said.

A moment of silence passed between us, but this time he didn’t need to be told to look, his eyes following the contours of my body, his face flushed at what was on display for him.

“I’m just showing you,” I said, my voice dropped to a whisper. “I’m just showing you that there are other women out there. Hot women. Needy women. Horny women.” I pulled my pants and my panties down a little more, giving him a better view of my lips. I was so wet now, so turned on by the look on his face, that my clit was throbbing. “Women with big boobs and nice pussies.”

He swallowed.

“It is nice, isn’t it?” I said, suddenly self-conscious from his lack of response. I started to pull down my blouse.

“Wait!” he said, a little too loud in the tiny supply closet. “Yes. Fuck. Yeah, you look really good Sarah. I…I had no idea.”

“Yeah…” I said, my voice almost a whisper now, every nerve ending in my body screaming with embarrassment, telling me to cover myself up, but some deeper part of me guiding me, telling me this was the right thing to do.

His eyes continued to move across me, travelling across the glistening lips, across the divots of my hips, up my smooth stomach, and settling on my breasts.

“Your boobs are like…like…huge.”

I giggled. “Yes. They are..” Another beat of silence. “Really soft too.” I looked around at the door again. “Would you like to feel them? Just this once?”

His eyes flicked from my face down to my chest and back again, his mouth slightly open. “Are you serious?” he breathed out, the question barely a whisper.

“I just want to help you get over her.”

I reached behind my back, my fingers fumbling for a second with the clasp of my bra. With a quick twist it came loose, the extra slack allowing me to lift it at the front, releasing my tits, their weight settling heavily against my chest.

Tom let out a shaky breath. “Holy shit,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on my tightening areola.

“Go on,” I whispered, taking the final step that closed the distance between us. I took his trembling hand in mine. “Just feel.”

I guided his palm to my left breast, pressing it against the soft, heavy weight of my it. His hand was warm and I let out a soft sigh. He squeezed, gently at first, then with a bit more confidence, his thumb brushing over my hard nipple.

“Mmm,” I said, looking up at him through my lashes, still holding my panties down with my other hand, rocking my pussy backward and forward slightly. “Do you like them?”

He looked up from my chest to my eyes. “They’re fucking incredible,” he said. He used his other hand to cup my other breast, weighing them both in his palms. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I told you…” I tilted my head up, my lips just an inch from his. “There are plenty of women who want you, Tom. You just need to know what to look for.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement, his hands continued their exploration of my breasts, squeezing and kneading them, pulling on my nipples, making my knees tremble. I felt myself take a small step to the side with my left leg, opening myself wider, pushing myself against the front of his pants and feeling his cock. I gasped.

Fuck.

This had gone too far.

“I should get back to my desk,” I said, stepping away from him and starting to put myself back together, fastening my pants and reclipping my bra.

“But…” Tom looked confused. Shocked. Crestfallen.

I smoothed down my blouse, trying to make myself look presentable, trying to bury my horniness, imagining myself getting caught by my bosses only making me wetter.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I’m still here if you need to talk. Okay?”

“Oh. Uh…yeah.” He nodded. “Okay. That’s cool. Thanks Sarah.”

“Its no problem.” I hugged him, dressed now, pressing my breasts against him again, doing everything I possibly could to not push my still dripping pussy against him through my pants and panties once more. “And next time you’re feeling down, let me know, and maybe we can come and get some more supplies...”

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CLICK HERE FOR PART 2 AND PICTURES…

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