[gorpur]

I’d been summoned up to the photocopier yet again. Miss Michelle was there trying to get it to work and instantly I was stunned into a dazed gob-smackedness – Her tight low-cut jumper was a wanker’s dream – and I’m a wanker.

What I didn’t know was that, behind the almost-closed blind in the office window next to the copier, an eager audience was awaiting my humiliation!

I’m supposed to be fixing the copier but I can only stand there and gawp as the deliciously-lovely Miss Michelle pulls bits of machinery off it, jiggling Her lovely cleavage as She does. Without thinking, I’ve got my hand through my overalls pocket to get my stiffening knob upright.

God knows what the girls next door are thinking, watching Wanker through the blind. They can see my eyes are wide and popping, and my mouth is hanging open like the gormless tosser I am. Miss Michelle holds the paper tray and Her arms squeeze Her bosoms. Like I’ve seen in mags many times, and which usually is enough to make me spunk my pants.

It’s at times like these – very rare though they are – that I literally forget where I am, as I’m totally mesmerised by the girlie-goddess who’s showing Her loveliness in my full view. As a compulsive masturbator and girl-worshipper I have no control in situations like these, when I’m seeing what I normally only see in my mags. A wanker can’t choose when he sees what he needs to see – it can only happen by accident or when a Goddess decides you can.

I’m in a trance and Miss Michelle is putting on a real show with Her tight skimpy top, it doesn’t occur to me why She’s doing this, and I’m not repairing the copier. I can hear giggles and laughter but I’ve no idea where it’s coming from, and I don’t think it’s anything to do with what’s happening here. I’m too hypnotised by what Miss Michele is doing to think about anything else.

I’ve been worshipping Her ever since She started here, and She has twigged that, I think, as have other girls in Her office. Any excuse to ogle Her in Her lovely outfits and I’m there – a stack of mail in my hand but rather than place it on Her desk, I’m gawping, unable to move. She speaks and my mouth opens and closes but nothing comes out.

I’ve cum many times with Her vision in my mind and Her name on my lips, and every fantasy is about how I can get to watch Her somewhere and keep watching till She makes the spunk ejaculate out of my wimpy willy. So this opportunity is too much for me to resist, and I can feel pulsations and liquid leaking as She plays with the copier, now almost deliberately messing around.

“Are you getting a good view?!” She asks me, and I’m so far gone I just nod up and down like an idiot. “That’s all you want, isn’t it, just a good view?” She says a bit sarcastically. Again I hear giggles and laughter but still don’t put two and two together. “You’re a perv, aren’t you, we all know!” She says mockingly, “I know how much you ogle me and then I wonder what you get up to when you get home?!”

I squirt several millilitres of pre-cum into my pants and have to moan “ohhh......” Now I hear loud laughter but nothing is going to deflect me from the ultimate pleasure, a fantasy about to cum true, cum what may, whatever the risks, regardless of the outcome – get the sack? Who cares? I just HAVE to spunk my pants watching Miss Michelle, I’ve dreamed and dreamed and dreamed about it.

“Do you wank thinking about me when you get home, cause you’re a wanker, aren’t you?! All the girls know, you make it obvious....” She stops as I yelp and fold in half, then whimper as I jolt up and down and spunk is pumped into my pants. “Oh! Oh! Oh! Oh!” My pitiful cries of perv ecstasy as Miss Michelle makes me spunk my pants cause Her to laugh out loud, and at that point the blind in the window next to me opens and the whole office full of girls is there, shrieking with mocking laughter as the red-faced wanker wets his pants with cum watching Miss Michelle.

There’s nothing I can do of course, and I pump the last few shots of spunk in my pants, before going to slink off. “Just a minute!” Miss Michelle says sternly, “what about the copier?!” I have to stay and repair it, wondering if I dare to open my overalls so all the girls can see my wet patch. But by now they’ve lost interest and gone back to work.

I was set up, by a bunch of girls who all know I’m a wanker. Absolute heaven.