The Stockroom of After Hours (Invite or Ask)

She grumbles under her breath about doors closing and taking away her chance to watch the action. Balancing her laptop in one hand, she fumbles with the key for the stockroom. A growled curse and the lock clicks open. She shoulders her way in.

Settling into a shady corner of the warm room, she starts working. It takes longer than she likes to get past the security. Her powerful laptop making the stockroom warmer still.

After a furtive glance at the locked door, she sets the laptop down to peel off her shirt. She reaches for the laptop, and on second thought, pauses to shimmy out of her shorts.

No ones here. Door's locked. They won't care if I'm just here in my panties.

Balancing the laptop on her knees she gets back to work. Gliding past the security. Ones and zeros. Closing in on her goal.

The upper office security cameras.

They already got started. She took way too long to get in. But no matter. She can watch now. Her lips latch onto an index finger as her other hand takes a meandering path to her panties. Fingertips drawing a lazy circle as she teases a moan free.
 
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