Free Overtime by Roxie Noir

these were remote controlled.
    Valerie did not have to wonder who had the remote control.
    She put them on under her skirt, checking herself out in the mirror. She frowned at the slight panty line they left under her tight skirt and wished that Mr. Declan had gotten her a vibrating thong instead. But then, maybe a panty line was part of the game?

Chapter Thirteen

    Valerie was on high alert walking back to the office, certain that the panties would begin vibrating at any moment, even though she vaguely remembered reading once that the remote only had a range of about twenty feet. But then again, Mr. Declan could be anywhere. By the time she got on the elevator she was jumpy and nervous; by the time she reached her desk, she thought her heart might beat right out of her chest.
    An hour passed. Nothing happened.
    Around three, Mr. Declan came out of the elevator and she watched him walk all the way in, through the glass doors, toward her. He stopped and said something to another assistant, then took a right and headed into the designer’s wing where he stood at the door to an office, nodding and speaking. Valerie pretended to do work, searching for a venue for the board meeting, but even five seconds her eyes flicked back to him. Was he reaching into his pocket? His jacket pocket? Where did he keep the remote—on him, in his desk, somewhere else entirely?
    Finally he walked back toward his own office, going right by her desk.
    “Good afternoon, Valerie,” he said, giving her the same nod that he always did.
    “Good afternoon, Mr. Declan,” she said, trying to sound normal, as though it were any Monday.
    He went into his office and left the door open.
    At three-thirty, her chair creaked and Valerie thought it was the vibrator for a split second.
    At four fifteen, she got up and went to the restroom, feeling the little bullet nestled next to her clit for the entire walk, cool and firm and arousing.
    At four thirty, she began to feel disappointed.
    It wasn’t until four fifty-five that it finally turned on. Valerie nearly jumped out of her chair with surprise. The buzz was perfectly quiet, muffled by her flesh and her chair, but snuggled right next to her clitoris, the powerful vibrations running directly through her.
    She was absolutely positive that everyone in her open-plan office had seen her jump and somehow knew that she was wearing remote-control vibrating panties, controlled by her boss. Valerie froze and locked her eyes on her computer screen, sitting perfectly still, the wonderful low buzzing working its way through her cunt.
    The sensation began to build, and she looked quickly at Camille, but the other girl seemed hard at work on something, even though they had four minutes before leaving. She swallowed and took a deep breath as unwanted thoughts began to leak in: the thought of Mr. Declan, back in his office, one thumb on the remote control; Mr. Declan, coming out of his office and bending her over her own desk in full view of everyone.
    Then, the vibrating cut off. Valerie blinked, disappointed, and forced herself not to turn around and look at Mr. Declan. She waited, pussy aching, pretending to look at mansions in the Hamptons.
    The vibrator cut on, suddenly, and then off again—and on and off, on and off in a pulse. Valerie squirmed in her seat and tried not to, wanting to get the best possible angle for it against her clit, trying to move it around, wishing it would just stay on permanently. Finally she put one foot under her and discreetly nudged the vibrator with one heel, only for it to cut off again.
    Frustrated, she looked back at Jasper’s office. He sat there serenely, looking at his computer screen, refusing to make eye contact with her. A full minute passed, and Valerie stood, adjusted her skirt, and sat back down.
    Just as everyone was getting up to leave, walking past her desk, it came back on, stronger than before. Valerie gripped her mouse in one hand, tightening the other into a fist,