Through the frosted glass, the voyeuristic observer watches as the secretary, oblivious to her audience, begins a slow, sensual dance. Her hands roam her body, lingering on her curves, her fingers slipping underneath her skirt. She's a symphony of pleasure, a private performance just for him. He's hard, his breath fogging the glass as he watches her masturbate, her moans barely audible, her body writhing in ecstasy.