Abby banged her shin painfully on a chair in her haste to escape the conference room. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed. No one seemed to have, so she fled the room gratefully. It was altogether too hot and stuffy in there, and the director of Tech Support was altogether too distracting.
Walking back to her office made her a little steadier on her feet. Since her recent promotion to supervisor in Accounting, Abby rated an office instead of a peon-cubicle. Not that it was any bigger than a cubicle, but it did have the benefit of some added privacy. She could goof off without worrying about people happening to look over her shoulder at her monitor to see that her “quarterly report” looked suspiciously like an astrology webpage.
Abby settled in front of her computer, still a little warm from having to sit across from Laura Taylor for an entire 2-hour meeting. “I hope I didn’t blush too obviously when she started fiddling with that pen,” she thought. “That’s the trouble with fair skin; blushing is always so noticeable. But, really, she has a very erotic way of sucking on the end of her pen. And of walking. And opening a briefcase. It’s just not fair.”
She opened up her email program and drafted an email to her friend Jonathon. “New update on the crush situation: Sat across from Laura in our weekly management meeting this morning. I think you’re wrong about getting over this the more I work with her. Today she took off her jacket and had a sleeveless top on underneath-and she’s got the most beautiful biceps! God, butch women are gorgeous. If she’s not queer, she’s at least gotta be used to women hitting on her. Wish I could risk being out at this company so I could find out. Sometimes I sit at meetings and wonder if she’d like to tie me up and fuck me. Or what it would take to make her lose all that cool control. And then I hope to hell no one can read my mind! See you soon, Jon. And you owe me an update on that guy Chris you keep talking about.”