Lockdown Lust: Back to Work

Info S.renwach
04 Jun. '20

The Midtown sidewalks were empty.  No tourists, just scattered office workers and construction crews in masks.  The skunky scent of weed hung heavily in the summer  air.  Craig pushed through the revolving door for his office building. “What’s up buddy?”

Craig turned and waved at Ian from Middle Office.  “Hey, hey, welcome back.  How are you doing?”

“Great, man, I’m so happy to get out of my fucking house.  I was going crazy, locked up with my wife and daughter.”

“I hear you, I hear you.  It’s nice to be back in the land of the living, but this feels weird,” said Craig as he stepped from one social distance sticker on the lobby floor to the next.

“Yea, it will be strange for sure.  We can’t even eat lunch together, or be in the same private office...”

The security guard waved Ken over. “I’ll see you upstairs Ian.”  Craig stood while the guard scanned his forehead and recorded a picture of his face with a mask.  The guard nodded and Craig ambled over to the elevator bank.  A sign on the wall stated only four passengers per car.

“Great, more lines,” Craig muttered to himself.  

An elevator for the eleventh floor arrived with a loud clang.  Craig stood on the sticker in one corner of the elevator.  “Whoa, hold that door,” came a shout from the lobby.  Craig pressed the Door Open button.  Ian and another person entered.

“Thanks man, God knows how long it would have taken to get another one,” said Ian.  He stepped on a sticker, and the woman behind him stood in the opposite corner.  

It was Isora, from finance.  Craig had worked with her on multiple projects over the past five years.  She looked directly at Craig and asked,  “Hey, so good to see you.  Are you excited to be back?”

Craig stared at her dark black hair, longer and wilder than he remembered.  Freshly applied makeup highlighted her delicate features, at least the parts not covered by a mask.  A tight fitting black turtleneck and long grey skirt, a longtime weakness of Craig’s, flattered her slim frame.  

“Hey, Isora, yea, happy to be back.  How about you?”

“Oh, I was ready to come back like three months ago.  I was going stir crazy.”  She held his gaze.  For the first time, Craig noticed how brightly her green eyes shone.  Maybe it was playing off her multicolored mask?

“Yea, I hear ya.”

Isora continued to look at him with a bemused expression.  As the doors opened for the eleventh floor, Isora said, “I like that beard on you.  It fills out your face.”

“Ah, thanks,” said Craig.  He grew a thick beard during the quarantine.  It was more grey than brown; he had reservations about keeping it.

The three of them scanned their badges and walked through the frosted glass double doors of Elite Wealth Management.  As Craig headed toward his office, he passed “distanced” coworkers, buzzing excitedly.  

After lunch, Craig hosted his first in-person meeting in five months.  “Nice to not have to worry about Zoom, and microphones, and dogs barking, right?” asked Craig to kick off the meeting.  

“But that means we have to pay attention and can't watch videos,” said Ian.

Everyone chuckled.  There were six people in the meeting, sat every other chair around the largest conference table on the floor.  Craig ran through the agenda, taking time to explain all the changes to their technology over the last few months.   “Okay, if there aren't any more questions, we're done.  Thank you,” said Craig.  A muffled round of thank you’s echoed back. Everyone shuffled out except Isora, sat at the opposite corner of the table.  Her boss usually attended this meeting, but he wasn’t in today.

Craig looked up and saw Isora smiling at him.  “Your team did some impressive work during this crisis.  Really kept things humming.”

“Thanks, thanks.  It was a daily fire drill for the first month.  Then we settled into a groove,” said Craig.

“It's so nice to be back,” said Isora.  “I wish we didn't have to wear these masks.  I thought we could take them off in here.”

“Yea,” Craig said, “It’s annoying to talk through these things.”

For the second time today, Craig noticed how bright green her eyes were.  And how they looked at him with a new intensity. 

“I’ve got a crazy idea.  I’m gunna unmask myself, here in this room,” said Isora.  “We're like ten, fifteen feet apart.  What do ya think?”

“Ahh, it's probably okay.  Just don't let the guy in charge of our safety policies see you,” said Craig, slowly.  

“I think I want to be naughty.  I’ve been good and followed the rules for so long,” said Isora.  Her voice seemed a little deeper, a little huskier than usual.

Craig said, “Don’t let me stop you.”

Isora hummed a playful, burlesque-style tune and twirled her fingers in circles.  Then she reached behind her ears and slowly removed the straps of her mask.  She locked eyes with Craig and moved her shoulders to the tune.  Her hands came together over her mouth and pulled the mask away from her face.


Craig instantly became erect.  He shifted in his chair.  “Well, if since you showed me yours...”  Craig tugged his mask down below his mouth, then undid the strap wrapped around his head.  “Now I fell like I can breathe.”

“Oh, that beard,” said Isora.  “I like it.  It makes you look very rugged, very handsome.”

Craig blushed.  “Ah, thanks.  It’s nice to see your face.  It’s, uh...” He wanted to tell her she always looked great, but today she glowed.

Isora smiled and leaned back in her chair.  The conference room overlooked Times Square.  Bright, bluish light rose from the street below.  The occasional taxi horn replaced the usual din.  “How long until things get back to normal?” she asked.

“It depends what normal even means.  I don’t think life here at work, or anywhere else, will ever go back to normal.  We’ll work remotely more, stop going to restaurants.  Dunno.”

“And all the folks who lost their job, so many unemployed.  It will cause a lot of problems,” Isora said, eyes unfocused, looking out the dirty window.

“Yea, yea,” said Craig.  “A lot of second and third-order consequences.”

“How was it at home, for you and your family?”

“It was all right,” said Craig. “We were healthy, and had all the necessities.  Food, teepee, Netflix.”

Isora chuckled.

“But, it’s hard to be in the house, all day with the same people.  It feels claustrophobic.  And everyone took turns being grumpy,” said Craig.

Isora looked back at Craig.  “Yea, that was the hardest part for us, too.  It’s just my husband and me in an apartment in Queens.  And, and... it was hard.  At first it felt like a vacation, almost.  But then, as the weeks went on, my husband kinda, kinda became very distant.”  She shook her head and forced a smile.  “Anyway, hopefully that’s behind us.”

“Yea.  Oh well, I think I have to get back to it...” and stood.  He stopped midway, his still-hard cock brushing against the table.  Craig wasn’t sure how obvious it was through loose fitting wool slacks, but he didn’t want to take a chance.  He plopped down heavily into the chair.

Isora, gathering her papers and phone, stopped and looked up.  “Are you okay?”

“Yes, I just need a minute.”

Isora eyes twinkled.  What was with her eyes today?  Were they always this magical?  “All right, Mr. Beard Man, I will see you later.”  She put her mask back on with a sigh.

Craig watched as she turned and strutted through the frosted glass door.  He continued to watch her walk through a row of cubicles, hips rocking back and forth.  Isora looked back and caught Craig staring at her ass.

Craig quickly turned his head and sorted through the papers in front of him, wondering why women could feel when they were being admired.  He couldn’t help himself.  He always liked Isora and thought she was attractive, but today…today she was stunning.  Craig took a deep breath and willed his erection to soften.  

The rest of the day passed quickly.  Team members stopped by Craig’s office and caught up, so much so that Craig didn’t take care of half of his workload.  Usually, pre-pandemic, he rushed out of the office at 5:30 to catch a ferry.  Now that he drove himself, he didn’t have to worry.  Around 6 o’clock, the office seemed to empty.  

Craig remembered he promised to bring home office supplies.  He searched his small two-drawer cabinet, pulling out a bottle of MacAllan 18 amongst other items.  He was rummaging through the cabinet when he heard a knock on the door.  Isora breezed in and sat in a chair around his small meeting table.  “I was on my way out and I saw the booze,” she said.  “I thought maybe you were having a party.”

Craig leaned against the low, two drawer cabinet.  “I wasn’t going to...”

Isora picked up the bottle of scotch and read the label.   “This looks unopened.  You haven’t tried it yet?”


Isora raised an eyebrow.  “Do you have any glasses?”

“Yes.  They might be dusty.”  Craig reached back into the cabinet and pulled out two etched glass tumblers with heavy bottoms.

“Looks like we’ll be naughty again,” said Isora, playfully.  Craig stiffened.  

“Can’t drink through a mask, silly,” she said.

Craig laughed, feeling self conscious.  “Nope, it’d ruin the taste.”  

Craig sat across from Isora, pulled off his mask and used the palm of his hand to break the waxy seal at the tip of the MacAllan.  Isora pushed the two tumblers toward him.

“I guess it’s a party.”

“Indeed,“ said Craig as he popped the cork stopper and gave two generous pours.

“We might as well go all the way,” said Isora.  She had taken off her mask and smiled, lips bright red with freshly applied lipstick.  Craig raised his eyebrows.

“We should go all the way, and toast!  Clink glasses!”

Craig threw his head back and laughed.  “Yes!”

The pair clinked tumblers, a splash of amber brown liquid spilling out onto the table.  Craig took a healthy sip and winced.  Warm sensations radiated out from the middle of his torso.

“Oh, that’s what the doctor ordered,” said Craig.  Isora leaned forward in her chair.  She rambled about her day and Craig just smiled and nodded at the correct times.  The scotch had an immediate effect.  Craig relaxed and thought he hadn’t enjoyed himself this much in months.  And he couldn’t get over how amazing Isora looked.

Tumblers half empty, Craig wondered how long they would hang out.  Maybe one more hit each, then leave.  And, when he got home, he’d masturbate like a motherfucker.

“Oh shit,” said Isora, standing.  “Five-Oh.”

“Eh, what?” asked Craig.  Isora stepped past Craig, closed the door to his office and turned out the light.  She then backed up and crouched in front of Craig.

“It’s Karl,” she whispered loudly.  “The social distancing police.  You know, five-oh.”

Craig stifled a laugh.  He hadn’t heard that term since college.  Isora slowly stood out of her crouch and looked out of the darkened office window.  

“He’s one section of cubes away,” she giggled.  “We have to stay out of sight, or we are buuuuuusted.”

Isora tried to return to a crouch and stumbled backward into Craig’s lap.  He instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist.

They both froze.  Except for Craigs cock, stirring before, now stood at attention and pressed against Isora’s ass.

Isora put her finger to her mouth and said, “Shhhhh.”  Her hand rested gently on Craig’s arm.  Outside the office, plodding footsteps came closer, paused, then headed away.

Isora straightened on Craig’s lap and peered out over the cubes.  “I think we’re okay,” she said.

“Yea, uh, great,” said Craig.  He leaned back and pulled his right arm away from Isora’s waist.  She held his left arm in place.

“In fact, it feels like one of us is better than okay.”  She wriggled her hips over Craig’s erection.

Craig couldn’t believe how turned on he was.  If she wriggled a few more times, he might lose it right there.  Isora, facing away from Craig, rubbed his arm.  He opened his mouth, then realized he didn’t know what to say.  Isora’s smooth white face lingered invitingly a few inches away. 

But they were at work.  And coworkers.  And married.  But, God he wanted kiss her.

They sat there for a few moments, neither of them moving.  Then Isora twisted and faced Craig.  Now her breasts pressed against Craig’s chest.  

Isora, her face so near to Craig’s that her black hair tickled his forehead, looked him directly in the eye.  Without thinking, Craig leaned forward and kissed Isora.   Gently, on closed lips.  He then pulled back.

Isora’s eyes were closed and head cocked to one side.  She looked like she was sleeping.  Craig leaned in again and delivered another kiss, firmer and longer.  As he pulled away again, her head followed his and opened her mouth.

Isora’s lips were thin, but warm.  A petite tongue darted out and met Craig’s.    It lashed his tongue, beating it back into his mouth.  As the owner of an oversized and usually dominate tongue, Craig felt like he was being attacked.  Enjoyably.

They kissed, Isora half-turned on Craig’s lap, rhythmically moving her breasts against him.  Long enough for Craig to reconsider what he was doing.  Where was this going?  Was he covered in lipstick?  Did they need condoms?

A sound from the cube farm broke the spell.  Isora jumped off of Craig’s lap and stood.  She looked out at the office, head pivoting wildly.  

“I don’t see anyone,” she said, breathing heavy. “I thought there was someone right outside of your door.”

“Yea, I don’t know where that noise came from,” said Craig.  “Maybe the cleaning crew?”

“Mmmmm, maybe.”  Isora looked down, then leaned against the glass door and redid the strap on her heels.  Craig watched her intently, not sure what was happening next.

She straightened and looked around Craig’s office.  “Ah, maybe I should go.  Thanks, thanks for the drinks.  And the, well...”. She blushed and looked at her hands.

“Bye,” she said and opened the door to Craig’s office.  She took one step out, then pivoted and stepped back inside.  Isora kissed the top of Craig’s head, then clomped away.

Craig watched until she turned a corner and disappeared.  He sat in the dark, with a  mouth covered in pinkish-red lipstick and a raging hard-on.