Under the Desk: Erotic Tales From IT

By D. W. Adler

IT support person Paul Atkinson has an active sex life at work to fill the time between computer issues. Sometimes it’s a little too active and now he’s being called to task for his sexual indiscretions with his female co-workers Ren, Jessica, and Ranjana. When he is called in to be disciplined by Ms. Young, the tough-as-nails yet sexy head of the HR department, will Paul be fired or will he find one other woman who is willing to be his next conquest?

• Language: English
• Publisher: D. W. Adler
• Release date: Sep 19, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311465054

D. W. Adler

DW Adler was born and raised in beautiful Nova Scotia, Canada. After receiving a degree in psychology and an almost-minor in Irish Studies, he learned how to fix computers. He now sweats profusely in Florida where he does IT support for a living when he's not writing. Don counts such authors as Anne Rice, JRR Tolkien, and Edgar Allan Poe, as well as a love for Irish/Celtic myth and folklore as his influences. He loves to read sci-fi, fantasy, post-apocalyptic, and anything having to do with vampires. Other than sipping tea and writing, Don dabbles in computer animation and graphic design, and is a doting father to his little girl. He is constantly plotting how to get back home to Nova Scotia and flees there whenever the sight of snow becomes a necessity. No, he will not fix your computer.

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Under the Desk:

Erotic Tales from IT

By DW Adler

Copyright © 2015 by DW Adler

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Chapter 1

Deep, Deep Trouble

Please come in and sit down, Mr. Atkinson. Close the door behind you, please, came the frosty invitation.

I nervously stepped into Ms. Young's office, closing the door gently. She's the head of HR for our company and her sizable office commands a beautiful view of Halifax Harbour. I sat in one of the chairs facing her desk, my palms starting to sweat. Visions of being escorted out of the building with my personal effects stuffed into a box filled my mind.

I folded my hands in my lap and sat straight as a rod. Ms. Young sat behind her large desk without looking at me, leafing through a notepad that sat in front of her while she spoke.

Mr. Atkinson, it has come to my attention that there have been certain things going on in this office. She looked up at me and fixed me with her stony gaze, her half-moon glasses perched on the tip of her nose.

I squirmed a little in my seat. My sweaty palms seemed to ratchet up the wetness. Really? W—What kind of things? I managed to stammer out.

Do the names Ren Maita, Jessica McDonald, and Ranjana Nalluri mean anything to you? As she said each name, her finger traced down the lines of her notepad as if checking them off one by one.

Oh shit.

I fidgeted some more, trying to adopt a casual sitting pose but failed miserably as I replied, They might... I trailed off, trying to sound pensive while I feigned ignorance. Have they...um...mentioned something about...me?

Ms. Young stared at me in absolute silence. Even though I was scared stiff, my mind wandered to lascivious thoughts as it always did when I came face to face with her. She had a beautiful face that made her appear far younger for a woman in her mid-fifties, topped by long, sandy-blonde hair which was tied back in an elaborate braid that trailed down her back. All this sat atop a voluptuous body, with full breasts creating the top of an hourglass figure that flowed down in an ample set of well-toned thighs and rounded buttocks that made a pleasing wiggle when she walked. I know she’s caught me more than a few times sneaking a glance at her, which I think explains the cold demeanour she holds toward me. Today was no different—her office was always several degrees below the temperature of the general office space, but there was a special frostiness about it today. I shivered involuntarily as she stared at me with her grey eyes.

They have done a little more than mention you. This, she said as she pointed to a stack of papers on her desk that had to be at least twenty centimetres tall, is the written record of their complaints against you. Apparently, you didn’t think they’d talk to each other.

"Hoped, actually." I shifted nervously and felt my face reddening. I imagined what tales were written in that mass of papers.

Ms. Young sat back in her chair, openly glaring at me while she fidgeted with a pen in her hand. Where in your job description, as an IT support specialist, does it say that you are to take sexual advantage of your coworkers?

My anxiety turned slightly to annoyance at the accusation. Now hold on a second, I said, allowing irritation to creep into my voice. They were all willing participants. I took advantage of no one.

Myself and your co-workers agree. Ms. Young leaned forward, her face hard with a scowl. However you spread yourself around a little too much and these ladies don’t appreciate feeling like conquests.

Touché. I sighed a little, knowing she had me. I returned her gaze but softened my expression, trying not to be antagonistic. I slumped in the chair and resigned myself to the fact that I’d be packing up my desk.

I’m sorry, I managed to mumble out. I’ll go clean out my things. I started to rise from the chair but Ms. Young shook her head.

Not so fast, she said, signaling with a hand for me to remain seated. I lowered myself back into the chair as she explained. Normally yes, I would send you packing at this point. You opened up this company, and yourself, to a lot of liability. However, your service up until this point has been exemplary. I will give you a chance to tell your side of things. This may not go as bad for you as you are thinking.

I breathed a little easier. She left her last few words hang in