It’s more of just one question, 'what?' Only with a thousand more question marks after it.
Specifically, it’s a Windows 98 error noise. Just repeated over and over. I can’t think of how to ask anything more specific, because I can't imagine what the answers could possibly be.
The feverish need to get railed has quieted to a dull sensation.
Even without being overcome with sensation, my brain stalls and stutters. Everything I observe or think is met with a flat 'no', but simultaneously my mind refuses to provide another explanation for what is going on.
My office looks pretty normal to me. Khent is fixing his popped button with the safety pin. He isn’t breathing as heavily as he was before either, no longer taxing the tensile strength of his shirt.
I kind of look at myself, sprawled out over my desk, pants half off and my cunt a wet mess of his efforts.
Somehow I find my voice and stutter until words form. Most of them are useless.
“Um. Hi. Oh, wow. Ok. Hello. Can you, like, hand a girl a towel? I don't think I can process anything unless I get dressed again,” I ramble. “You said you were from the IT Department?”
Khent slowly nods. “Yeah. Fourth floor.”
“Well, this is the sixth floor,” I point out, because pointing out he’s on the wrong floor is easier than dealing with whatever just happened. I just have to be correct about something right now.
My eyes dip down to where his staggering boner had been before, and the lack of a cum stain on his pants is gas lighting me. He must have some pretty stellar underwear on, I’m honestly kind of annoyed by it.
Khent pauses his search for something resembling a towel in my office, glancing back to me in what can only be described as sheepish. “Yeah, about that ... I need you to come to Monster Resources with me.”
3
Iopen and close thepamphlet the Monster Resources lady handed me, glancing over it again. ‘So You’ve Mate-Bonded with a Coworker’.
I can’t even finish a single thought. I feel my brain bluescreening on me. What kind of special hell is this?
Most of the information inside is about company policy, that mate-bonding is highly discouraged on company property. A lot of it is about trying to let MR know about any mating/bonding plans before it happens, rules for making sure a bonded pair don’t work within the same department to avoid favoritism. It reads a lot like the internal dating policy the company has for HR.
The problem is, the whole outdated looking thing assumes that this was on purpose.
“I didn’t bond with anyone,” I say, running through this morning’s events in my head again. That moment in the storage room was the first time I ever saw Khent.
Even his name makes my cheeks burst into a streak of red. I feel him shift out of the corner of my vision, and I steel myself to not turn to glance at him.