AcmeShorts

I rock back and forth, appreciating the lumbar support, as I work myself into another lunch break. I reach for my Reuben, caressing corned beef. I shudder and drop the loaf. I'm instantly aroused. I slide my hand beneath the particle board partition and hitch up my skirt. My fingers frantically find their way to the edge of my control-top pantyhose, clawing at the waist. I like them tight.

The phone rings. I bolt upright and snag the nylon crotch on my tennis bracelet, ripping them wide open. "Fuck it," I falter, spreading my legs. No point in pulling them down now.

Salivating at my sandwich, I slip in two digits. Rotating my hips slightly, I begin to ride my thumb knuckle as I casually examine the sauerkraut. I appreciate the anti-shock multi-positional chair mechanism as it pivots appropriately to absorb my gentle thrusts. I wriggle my wrist against the seat, still pleasantly caught in my secret snatch trap. "Swiss cheese on rye," I moan in orgasm. Just then, a co-worker walks by. I manage to smile through my fleeting contractions. The shakes go unnoticed, endorsing ergonomics.