Before and After Work
Zenobia Renquist
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2013 Zenobia Renquist

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Rachel shouldn't have stayed up to watch that thriller marathon last night. Mondays were hard enough without adding lack of sleep to the mix. She covered her mouth and yawned wide as she watched the elevator make its way slowly -- this elevator was the slowest in the building -- to the parking garage.

Her eyelids drooped. She had almost given in to the urge to close them and catch a quick micro-nap when the elevator dinged and the doors opened. She started to yawn again and had to stifle it. The top company executives stood watching her, waiting for her to enter so they could continue on their way.

Mr. Tedson, the company president, fixed his stern gaze on her and said in a gruff voice, "Good morning, Ms. Williams. Didn't get enough sleep last night?"

"Good morning, sir. I stayed up watching movies and got to bed late. Sorry, sir," Rachel said quickly. She boarded the elevator and faced the doors. The button for her floor was already pushed, so she stared at the seam of the doors and tried to think awake thoughts so she wouldn't yawn again.

The leaders of the company stood behind her, headed to the same floor. From seven until nine every morning, this elevator was for the sole use of those who worked on the top floor. Rachel's mornings were spent having to pretend she was bright-eyed and bushy-tailed so she wouldn't reflect unfavorably on her boss.

"I trust your lack of sleep won't hinder your performance, Ms. Williams," Mr. Tedson said.

She looked over her shoulder at him. Catching a glimpse at the others on the elevator, she said, "Of course not, Mr. Tedson. I got plenty of rest over the weekend. This morning is just starting a little slow."

"Yes. Mondays usually do." His gaze left hers to stare straight ahead.

Conversation over, it seemed. She faced the doors after a quick glance at the numbers. They hadn't passed the second floor yet. Slowest elevator in the building.

Rachel startled when a hand cupped her ass. Her spine straightened and she swallowed. The hand was large with thick fingers -- a man. Not Mr. Tedson. His hands were slender, like their owner. There were five other men on the elevator and two women. Rachel had her back to them all.

The man squeezed, digging his fingers under her ass cheek. He relaxed his hand and then did it again. A second hand palmed her other cheek. This one didn't feel like the first. The hand was just as big but the fingers were longer and its owner tapped his fingers under her ass cheek, making it jiggle.

A third man -- she assumed the callused fingers belonged to a third man -- slid his hand up her left thigh and under the hem of her sheath mini-skirt so he could caress the lace top of her thigh-high stockings. The owner of the tapping hand worked with the owner of the squeezing hand and pulled Rachel's skirt up so it bunched at her waist.

Cool air fanned over her exposed hips. The first two men resumed their earlier actions without the hindrance of her skirt while someone else slipped his hand between her legs and cupped her pussy.

He wiggled his fingers against her mons, making Rachel squeak.

Mr. Tedson asked in his usual gruff voice, "Is something wrong, Ms. Williams?"

"Nothing, sir." She swallowed again and tried to keep herself from panting. Nothing wrong at all. Typical morning elevator ride to the office.

"You seem stiff, Ms. Williams."

"I'm not, sir."

The hand between her legs started moving back and forth, rubbing the length of her pussy. She pressed her thighs together in a bid to keep from shifting them from side to side. The men playing with her ass pushed the edges of her panties between her ass cheeks so they could touch her bare skin.

"Are you sure you're okay, Ms. Williams?"

"Yes, sir. Fine."

"I don't think you are. Maybe this will help." Mr. Tedson shifted so he stood directly behind her, dislodging the fondling hands.

The whisper of fabric against fabric preceded Mr. Tedson putting a bunched cloth -- possibly his handkerchief -- over her eyes and tying it behind her head. A blindfold. Her heart rate sped up and her clit twitched.

"There. Better, Ms. Williams?"

"Yes, sir. Thank you, sir."

"Perfect." He patted her ass. "Turn toward me."

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