Milton Scrag glanced around at the sea of
curious, indifferent, or hostile faces, while nervously following
the busty blonde toward the far side of the room. Did she see him watching
lesbian sex videos? Cubical after
cubical passed, and he looked inside at the assortment of
entombed humanity. He saw many women, some worth a second
glance. Two had short skirts, one shouldn't have, she was older
than dirt. The other was a fine looking woman, but she was
obviously a bitch. You could see it in her eyes, if you bothered
looking at her eyes, while being presented with a view of the
edge of her white panties showing beneath the short skirt. Ooh, he saw some
lesbian videos like that.
Milton did look at her eyes, briefly.
She didn't bother closing her legs, and Milton didn't bother
looking away. Three more cubicals contained some fine breasts.
One was so close and so open, that he was tempted to reach down
into her blouse and scoop them out for a better look. She didn't
even glance his way. The blonde before him made a rude noise and
continued on to the far side of the office. He looked back to
see at least a hundred cubicals in the huge room. It was
packed.
All of these thoughts passed through
Milton's head, as he followed the alluring sway of the blonde's
hips. He imagined her having lesbian sex. Suddenly the hips stopped swaying and she turned to face
him.
"The new guy is the farthest from the
window?" he asked with a nervous laugh.
"Yes," she said coldly, then pointed
toward the empty cubical. "Stop by personnel and fill out some
papers before you go home," she said, turning away and promptly
forgetting that he existed.
Milton felt small and insignificant. He wanted to watch
some lesbian sex videos. He
gave the nearby workers a nervous smile and sank from sight, into
the thinly padded chair. He turned in it experimentally. It
squeaked loud enough to wake the dead. He twisted and turned, trying to find a tune in the horrible squeak.
Suddenly he heard a shoe strike the far side of the partition.
He had only been at the desk for moments and he had annoyed
somebody already.
"Sorry," he called nervously. He slid
the chair forward. It grated annoyingly. He looked down to see
a sheet of glass, possibly plexi-glass, beneath his wheels. It
was probably used to make the chair move easily on the thick
carpet. He didn't like it. He immediately pushed the chair back
and slid the glass out of sight beneath his desk with his feet.
And some lesbian videos fell out. That was better, the chair slid smoothly and quietly, back and
forth. He looked around himself and noticed that the partitions
around him only came down to within two feet of the floor. He
could see feet, desks, and file cabinets in the cubicals around
him. His back was against the wall. He saw a black streak on
the wall where many other chairs had brushed against it.
"Welcome to telemarketing the Telechoice
way," Milton mumbled, reading the cover as he took the papers
from his briefcase, and covered up his lesbian videos. which Ms. Witeasha had thrust at him only
moments before. He never thought that he would sink so low, as
to attempt telemarketing. But when they offered a flat rate,
plus commissions, he just couldn't resist. It was better than
selling vacuum cleaners, he thought. He turned to page 7 and
found a full line of vacuum cleaners. He chuckled as he quickly
turned the page and came upon the sexy lingerie section. He
could sell anything he liked, anything he believed he could sell.
He could sell lesbian sex videos to a gay guy. He had about as many choices as a typical flier of sale items
from a hardware store or supermarket. It consisted of 12 pages.
Milton really believed that there was something in there that
would strike his fancy. His eyes went again and again to the
underwear section. How long had it been since he'd had sex, or
dated a girl that looked like that? She was a hot lesbian. He thought to
himself as he looked at an exotic black haired girl in see-through underwear. He
could almost see her pussy lips through the flimsy material. He would give
anything to suck on those fresh pussy lips, or sink his stiff cock into them.
How long since a girl like that? Never, he thought to himself, licking his lips.
Most of his sexual experiences had been with whores, and most of them looked
like a typical gum chewing crack whore who probably thought of lesbian sex the
whole time.
Milton turned to a selection of riding
lawn mowers and decided to start there. It was fall, people were
lazy and hated raking leaves. This was the time to offer a
riding lawn mower for sale. He should sell his lesbian videos.
He kicked off his shoes, as he turned
pages in a lose-leaf notebook, until he reached the proper
prepared speech and began memorizing the speel about lawn
mowers.
"Good (enter morning or evening) (enter
sir or madame)," he read silently. "I am calling today to offer
you the top of the line Scutter riding lawn mowers with automatic
height adjustment and our patented vacuum bagging system. Are
you interested in a Scutter, (enter sir or ma'am)?." Damn, selling lesbian sex
toys would be easier than this.
He visualized saying this to a
prospective customer, but just saying it in his head made him
tongue-tied. Shaking his head, he turned to the next section.
It was a dating service. Maybe he should start there. People
said he had a sexy telephone voice, even though his real image
was somewhat less than perfect. He was middle-aged, bald, and
slightly pudgy.
"Are you tired of being alone?" Milton
read with a twist of his lips. Damned right he was tired, but
some lame dating service would not help him. The minute they got
a load of his bald head, and toad-like body, they would be outta there. They
always were. The excuses ranged from the common headache to "I have syphilis",
to "I am a lesbian".
"Oh Yes!" a female voice moaned from the
far side of his partition. He started to stand up, but thought
better of it. All eyes would go to his sweaty, bald head the moment
it peeked over the partition. He sat back in his chair, then
impulsively slid his chair back and looked beneath his desk. To
his amazement, he found that the sheet of glass, which he'd
discarded beneath the desk, made an excellent reflector. Pushed
half under the partition as it was, it showed a shapely pair of
legs jutting from a short skirt. At the moment the legs were
spread, but from the angle on the floor he couldn't see actual
panties. Her chair was in the way.
Milton sat up, grabbed a sheet of paper
and stood.
"Is there a copier around here?" he
asked. The woman was beautiful. No way she was a lesbian. She gave him a smile and
nodded, continuing her speech on the phone as she did. She
seemed very civil and was certainly beautiful. She had dark
brown hair, a nice face, and a great figure. She was wearing a
white blouse under the open jacket of a blue suit type outfit
with small white stripes. On her it looked good, but not half as
good as the friendly smile. He wasn't used to that.
She held up one finger while she spoke on
the phone. Finally she covered the phone and pointed behind
her.
"The door on the right side of the room,"
she said in an exaggerated whisper. She suddenly uncovered the
phone and spoke. Her sexy red lips seemed to hypnotise
Milton. He thought of lesbian sex to ease his mind.
"Oh, of course I had an orgasm, silly.
Didn't you?" she asked in a cute little kitten voice. Milton's
eyes flew wide. She kissed the phone, then looked up, surprised
to see Milton still standing over her.
"Back there," she pointed, beginning to
grow annoyed.
Milton nodded and took his useless piece
of paper back to the copier. He made three copies before he
realized that the paper was blank. He snatched them up as a
shadow filled the doorway behind him.
"How's it going?" a male voice asked in a
friendly manner. He turned to find a complete stranger.
"New?" the man asked.
"Yeah," he said, clutching the papers
close to him as the man looked down at them.
"You seem to be off to a great start.
Three marks?"
"Huh?"
"You have three new customers," he said,
pointing at the papers.
"Oh, yeah."
"Well, take your time. There's no way we
can compete with the women, they sell three times more than we
do. Be content to take home a baseline paycheck. Don't knock
yourself out. The get all the lesbian women to buy stuff."
"I... I won't," Milton promised.
The man stood, simply waiting. "You are
in the way," he finally said, pointing behind Milton. Milton
turned and gasped when he saw that he was blocking the entrance
to the restrooms. He quickly stepped aside. The first door was
unmarked, the second belonged to the women, and the man pushed
through the last door. He was about to close it when he stopped
and turned.
"How do you like Marney?" he asked with a
chuckle.
"Marney?"
"The girl across from you," he said with
an incredulous expression. "You know, the brunette in the short
skirt and legs six feet long."
"Oh, she's incredible," Milton
gasped.
"Damned right, and she's easy," the man
pretended to whisper before winking and closing the door.
Milton felt his hopes rise. Was she easy
enough to be interested in Milton? Probably not, but it didn't
hurt to find out... well it didn't hurt much, anyway. He'd been
rejected before, many times. He was starting to think everyone was a lesbian.
"Thanks, Marney," Milton said as he
passed the gorgeous brunette.
"You're welcome, Milton," she said
without looking up. Milton liked the way his name rolled off her
lips. She was so... SHE KNEW HIS NAME! Milton realized as he
was sitting down. He almost missed the chair. Ooh, time for lesbian sex. He struggled into
the office chair and tried to think. Nobody had mentioned his
name. How in the hell? He was about to ask, but heard her
speaking again. She seemed to be selling some type of phone sex.
No wonder the girls outsold the men. Safe sex was in right
now.
"Of course I love you Steve. Oh, I meant
Dean. It was a slip of the tongue," she said without conviction.
Her voice lowered slightly. Straining, Milton could hear no
more. She was whispering. Probably telling some lesbian sex story.
Bored to tears, Milton tried again to
memorize his speech, but Marney's long, slender legs filled his
mind. He backed away from the desk and looked beneath it.
Marney had kicked off her shoes. Both his and her shoes now
rested beneath the desks, only a few feet apart. He gazed at the
reflection of her legs in the glass. She suddenly lifted one
foot and rubbed it. Her panties were clearly visible in the
glass. He had not been able to see them before, because they
were black.