Dangers of an Open Floorplan Pt. 01

I was against my office switching to an open floor plan from the very beginning, and I let everyone know it.

I hit "reply-all" on every email Sandra from HR (whose bright idea the open floor plan was) sent asking for our opinions on the switch. At meetings, I argued passionately against it until I was told to shut up and sit down. Sandra always got up to wave my complaints away, arguing that the new floor plan would be worth any minor inconveniences it might cause, since it would make us get to know the people we don't directly work with and, in doing so, foster cooperation among different teams. I thought that sounded fucking awful, and didn't hesitate to let everyone know it.

Despite my best efforts, management moved ahead with the new floor plan, and I eventually found myself standing outside the office on a Monday morning, surrounded by a crowd of my coworkers, waiting for them to reveal the new space.

"All right!" Sandra chirped from the front of the crowd, next to the doors. "We will open the doors in just a minute, but first, turn and find someone you don't know. Say hello, and tell them one thing you're excited about right now."

Grudgingly, I turned. Behind me was a guy I'd seen around the office, but never really spoken to. He worked in graphic design or marketing or something, one of the teams that didn't really interact with my team of app developers. Our eyes met, and I stepped closer.

"Hello," he said flatly. "I'm Alex. I am excited to go home." With the dark circles under his eyes and stubble across his face, he looked like he hadn't slept in days.

His attitude made me warm to him. "Hi Alex. I'm Liam. I am excited to see this open floor plan idea fail spectacularly."

His eyes showed a spark of recognition. "Hey, aren't you that guy who's really mad about it? Who sends out the mass emails?"

"Yeah. That's me," I said hesitantly, suddenly feeling a little embarrassed. My reputation preceded me.

He held out a fist, which I bumped. "Totally agree with you, man. Keep on speaking the truth."

Before I could think of a response, Sandra clapped, and the crowd quieted. "Thank you!" she shouted. "To kick-start our plan for inter-team cooperation, you and the person you are now talking with will sit together for the rest of the week. Each week, for the next three months, you will choose someone new to sit with. I hope that soon, all our teams will be effortlessly working as one BIG team!"

Irked chatter broke out. Sandra had to shout over the crowd to be heard. "Who's ready to tour the new space?" In response, the crowd started shifting towards the door, still muttering among themselves.

"This is bullshit," Alex muttered as we filed into the building. He paused and looked me up and down, so swiftly that I barely noticed. "Though I don't mind being paired with you specifically," he amended.

I hesitated, not sure what his comment meant. Was he flirting? I took him in, briefly. He was wearing nice clothes, but they were a little rumpled, like he'd pulled them out of the dirty laundry. His fitted jeans hugged muscular thighs and a nice butt. I blinked rapidly and looked away. He was a coworker. I needed to keep things professional. He was hot, though. "Same to you," I said, trying to echo whatever sentiment he was expressing.

Alex and I kept up a steady stream of complaints as we toured the office. It was easy, since the open floor plan was every bit as bad as I'd expected. Our cubicles had been replaced with a set of long, wooden tables that had no dividers to keep you from making awkward eye contact with the person seated across from you. Each table had a strip of outlets running down the middle, in an off-white color I knew would get filthy before the end of the week. The chairs were fashionable but not at all ergonomic. And, of course, there was zero privacy.

"I hate this," I stated to Alex. "Anyone can see your screen. Your boss could just walk up behind you to see if you're slacking."

"It's bad," he agreed, his voice mournful. "My days of slacking off at work are over."

"The best days of our lives. But there is hope. We're creative. We'll find a way to dick around." As soon as the last sentence was out of my mouth, I cringed internally at my phrasing.

He quirked an eyebrow, smirking, but said nothing.

At the end of the tour, we looked for a good place to sit. I found a spot at a table near the back, where the two chairs on the end were free. He sat down across from me, and I focused on setting up my laptop.

My email was overflowing, quality assurance had discovered a weird bug that I needed to fix, and I had a deadline of yesterday on a task I hadn't even started. I plugged in my headphones and tried to focus. I was mostly successful, but I couldn't help glancing up at Alex periodically. Once, I caught him looking back at me. I looked away quickly, but found myself smiling.

Eventually, the glances stopped, and the bug pulled me in until I forgot the world around me.

Hours later, I had tried every solution I could think of (and a few I pulled off the internet), and I was no closer to having it fixed. I rubbed my eyes and pushed my chair away from the table, the movement yanking my headphones out of my ears. The room was quiet. Only a few people were still there, including Alex, seated across from me. I hadn't realized how late it had gotten. My eyes hurt and my brain was mush. It was time to give up for the night. I gathered my things, said a short goodbye to Alex, and departed.

The drive home was quiet, and my mind kept straying to Alex. Office romances are a bad idea, but he was hot and I liked talking to him. I figured a little flirtation couldn't hurt. As I parked and gathered my things to go inside, I realized I didn't have my phone. I rifled through my backpack and under the front seats, but it didn't turn up. Must have left it at work. Cursing, I got in the car and headed back to the office. The drive didn't take long, but I was still pissed. All I wanted to do was curl up on my couch with my cat and a beer.

It looked like everyone was gone when I got back. The building was silent, though the lights in the main office space were still on. I wondered whether they ever got turned off. I had never seen switches for them. Lost in thought, I went in to grab my phone.

All the tables were empty, except one. Alex was still at his desk, headphones on. He was leaning on the table, propped up on one elbow. His eyes were closed, and I thought he might be asleep. I felt a little bad for him; he must be pretty overworked to just fall asleep at his desk. I tried to move silently, so as not to wake him up.

My phone was not on the table, and my heart dropped, thinking it might have gotten stolen. Then I thought to check under the table. Maybe I'd kicked it under there. As I bent to look for it, motion caught my eye, and I glanced up to see Alex's hand slowly stroking his cock. I froze for a moment as I processed what I was seeing, then sprang up, banging my head on the table. Alex's body jerked. He yanked off his headphones, jumped up, and struggled to pull up his pants.

We loudly apologized to each other, over and over, as I backed away with my eyes averted.

"Dude, I'm so sorry, I really didn't see -"

"I shouldn't have been doing that here, I'm so sorry -"

"I was just here to grab my phone -"

After a while, we both quieted. We were standing facing each other, each avoiding the other's eyes. I should have departed several apologies ago, but I still hadn't found my phone. My eyes kept straying below his torso, where his hard cock was clearly visible beneath his fitted jeans. He hitched his pants, adjusting, and the very tip peeked up over his waistband. My own cock began to stir in my pants as the shock started to wear off. I swallowed hard, trying to look away.

He started back up with the apologies. "I'm sorry, man. I've just been really stressed, this is a really big project, and it's due tomorrow. I just needed to relax. I should have just gone home."

"No, it's fine," I said, forcefully, meaning it. I'd done the same thing a time or two, in the privacy of my cube. "It's natural. Healthy, even. Stress relief. It doesn't bother me." I hesitated, not knowing how he would take my next words. "You can even keep going if you want."

Surprise flitted across his face. He considered for a moment. Without saying anything, he pulled his pants back down. His cock sprang out, standing straight out from his body. He sank back down in the chair and started slowly stroking it. Out in the open, I could see it was long and thick, with a nice upward curve. I realized I was staring at it and returned to looking for my phone.

The sound of his hand on his cock, his heavy breathing, and the occasional quiet moan distracted me from my task. My dick was straining against my underwear, but I resisted touching it, even to tuck it into my waistband. I wandered aimlessly, looking behind computers and under desks I had never been near. Before long I'd gravitated back to where he sat, unable to keep my eyes off him.

Noticing my presence, he paused. "You still okay with this?" he asked tightly.

"Yes," I replied, my voice strained.

He considered for a moment. "Do you want to join me?"

My throbbing cock answered for me. I slid my pants off, sat in the chair next to him, and began stroking myself. I no longer cared whether he saw how intently I was staring at him. All I could think about was how hot he looked with his cock in his hand. As I stared, I realized I wanted to taste it.

I cleared my throat. He paused, looking at me questioningly. "I was wondering." I cleared my throat again. "I was wondering whether you'd like some help."

"Fuck yes," he replied. He swiveled towards me, a lopsided "is-this-really-happening" grin spreading across his face.

I knelt in front of his chair and took his cock in one hand. I gave it a few tentative strokes with my hand, then ran my tongue up the length of the shaft. When I couldn't take it anymore, I took the head into my mouth and started bobbing up and down. Each stroke took me deeper, until it was bumping the back of my throat. He gripped the seat of his chair with both hands, panting. I took his cock out of my mouth for a moment, to catch my breath, working it with one hand and cupping his balls with the other. They were soft, but quickly growing wrinkled and tight to his body. I bent to smell them, then licked them with broad, flat tongue strokes. He moaned, his voice quiet and deep.

My pants were still down, my cock standing stiffly and bobbing as I moved. I took it in one hand and stroked myself while I returned my attention to his shaft. I went deeper faster this time. The feeling of him against the back of my throat made my cock twitch in my hand. Finally, in one swift stroke, I took him in all the way. He moaned loudly as his cock stretched my throat. I picked up the pace, filling my throat with his cock on every stroke. His legs tensed around me, and he gave a strangled cry. Cum, hot and thick, flooded my mouth. I kept my lips tight around him until his cock stopped pulsing. He looked down at me expectantly, probably wanting to see me swallow.

I pulled away and spat a mouthful onto my hand. I worked it up and down my shaft, the hot, slippery feeling taking me straight to the edge.

A noise behind us, and the lights in the reception room flipped on. Alex's eyes widened. We both sprang up, yanking our clothes back on. I stuffed my cock - rock-hard, throbbing, and slick with Alex's cum - back into my pants.

The door opened, and Sandra entered. "Oh, hello there," she said, her eyebrows raised. "What are you two still doing here?"

Not able to meet her eyes, I muttered something about working late and beat my retreat. The moment I got into my car, I let my cock loose from my pants. It was still rock-hard and slippery with cum, and it didn't take me long to finish. I leaned my head against the steering wheel, my heart still racing from the sex and almost getting caught. I had probably gotten cum all over the steering wheel, but I didn't care. I was riding high.

I was back at home before I remembered I still hadn't found my phone.