After Hours: Office Masturbation Marathon

The office is quiet, the hum of the fluorescent lights a dull lullaby. I'm alone in my cubicle, pants around my ankles, hand wrapped around my aching cock. I've been hard all day, and now, finally, I can relieve the pressure. I stroke, my wrist picking up speed, my breath coming in short gasps. I'm close, so close, when suddenly, a shadow falls over me. My boss, Mr. Thompson, stands there, his eyes scanning the scene. 'Carry on,' he says, a smirk playing on his lips, before turning and walking away, leaving me to finish, my face flushed with embarrassment and exhilaration.

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