My cubical is in a row along the east wall of the building. Windows provide ample light on a sunny day, filtered through a bank of trees ringing the parking lot outside. The wind in the trees create moving shadows on my desk, and I follow them as my mind wanders. I gaze at the ceiling ignoring my work. Reading is time-consuming, time I need for maintaining appearances and impressing others with skills and abilities always needing attention. Skills and abilities are my life’s work. I know what people look like when they have such skills, I know how they act. I try to act the same way so people will assume I have the same abilities. My goal is to learn how to engage effortlessly in small talk and put others at ease with humorous anecdotes. I search for anecdotes whenever I can, I sprinkle them throughout my conversation. But it is hopeless, I know I have no social skills. One has to learn how to get along with people, it isn’t an innate skill.
Anyway, I have to pee, which means a trip to the restroom. It’s a long narrow gauntlet of cubicles to the main corridor and the bathrooms. I dread the trip because I’m not wearing any pants. I have no underwear on either. I have a dress shirt and a tie, but the shirttails don’t cover my groin when I stand, or when I’m walking. So I try to arrange my bathroom trips during lunch when it’s unlikely my coworkers will notice. The fact of my incomplete wardrobe is a common occurrence for people who have insecurity issues. I’ve read studies of dreams that feature undressed people in professional settings, and it indicates a severe lack of confidence and an under-developed self-image. As a long-time sufferer, I am sympathetic to this condition and try to take it in stride.
I was trying to screw up enough courage to get up, when Jane, an executive secretary came into my cubical carrying a folder of papers. She began giving me instructions for meetings and deadlines, and of course, I didn’t understand any of it so I nodded and smiled. Jane laid the files on my desk and turned and walked away. I still had to piss, so I scanned the room and decided to go for it. I could see the heads of employees from the corner of my eye as I walked down the hall. A pretty girl worked five cubicles down. She was tall and slim and had beautiful hair and I would’ve loved to talk to her if I had the courage, and a pair of pants, but I didn’t have either, so I hurried past her cubical with my eyes forward.
“John!” She called as I tried to walk past. I stopped, and she started describing the reports that Jane had dropped off. She pointed to a document on her desk that she wanted me to include. I had to move closer, and my shirt parted slightly exposing my genitals. I moved my hand to cover myself and acted like I was leaning on the edge of her desk. She didn’t appear to notice as she handed me the documents and an empty file folder. And as I took it she opened a file drawer by my crotch, and reached into the drawer brushing my shirttails open and exposing my embarrassed penis. She hesitated and stared at my crotch in shock and alarm, uncomprehending what she was seeing. She looked up and said, “John, do you not have any pants on?” My mind whirled and I nodded numbly and put the papers into the folder and drew my shirttail over my penis and moved backed a few steps. She sat there for a moment staring ahead, stunned by what she had seen.
Turning her eyes down to her desk she said, “Well, thank you, John, the report needs to be filed by the end of the month.” She looked up and asked. “Is that okay with you?” Her face was so pretty and her voice was so soft I felt like crying. She reached out and took my hand, the hand that was holding my shirt down, and moved it aside letting my semi-erect cock peek between the shirttails like a hungry otter. She smiled ever so slightly, and said, “Thanks, John,” and returned to her paperwork. I backed into the hall and walked away, my heart bursting with excitement and true love, and my little otter was leading the way with his eye wide open.
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