As Seen In; HUSH Magazine Workplace Wanks

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ANECDOTES, SEX | JUNE 18, 2014 BY VELVET STEELE

Slowly the heat begins to rise from your toes up. You feel it take hold of your knees making you weak, ache, unable to get up as goose bumps begin to form across your back, up your spine, and through your shoulder blades as it continues up the back of your neck like the subtle bites you gave your last partner. Soft nips that produced squeals and moans of delight. The tingles are relentless as they push forward; up and over your scalp making hair stand on end, and a reddened face burn white-hot. The feeling moves onward and down your chest, making lazy nipples stand at attention. Abdominals flex, settling with a deep thud into hot loins now desperately in need of a rigorous massage.

Feeling horny at work with the desire to rub one out presents a wee bit of a problem. What to do, what to do! Most folks are working in situations that really don’t allow for a little private time while pounding away at the keyboard or swinging a hammer, but with a little determination, where there’s a will, there is a way. If you’re one of the lucky ones able to surf the net and look at those depictions of sexual activity not blocked by the heavy hands of workplace censorship, I first want to know where you work, and second, LUCKY YOU! You’re one of the fortunate that doesn’t have to worry about using the minutes of your cell phone plan to get all hot and bothered on the clock.

Those of us that are part of the sexual proclivities group do look, and not just once, but several times a day, each and every day. Working at an adult shop, why I, myself, am doing quality control and research hourly, so you can see where my frustration comes from. Although I don’t like to admit it, ok I do, when the store is quiet I find myself locking the front door and placing the “be back in 5 minutes” sign up and heading to the washroom for some much needed stress relief. What? I’m human to!

For those without that luxury, they find themselves becoming creative when self-love comes calling. Most women head to the washroom at times when they know it’s not busy and get down to it with their trusty purse sized friend and lube of choice. Even the toy companies know that women need a little release and have been quick to produce products that are so small and powerful they can now be easily concealed in the form of a lipstick case or memory stick that actually charges while plugged into a USB port. Just a little something to think about the next time you walk past the office sexpot furiously typing way at his or her keyboard.

The office isn’t the only place employees are getting jiggy. The construction site is ripe with testosterone, dirty sweaty men, working hard, building muscle, and talking sex. Lots of sex! Those port-o-potties are literally that, portable jerk off joints dropped into the site, frequented by all. The guys there have truly gotten that down to a finely tuned skill, able to get into that blue plastic cubicle and rub one out at lighting speed, and get back on the job without being docked any pay. You may think it disgusting, but have you seen the inside of one of those things? If there are no women on the job site, you’ll find graffiti within those walls, walls rife with it from top to bottom providing an ample amount of fodder for those strapping lads to stroke one off!

Of course there are those that think that this just a little to much in the rough trade department and seek out the solace of a quieter, cleaner, less aromatic darkened space for some greased up action. There is a friend of mine who gets a kick out of finding a room with a view over-looking our fair city in the houses he has the pleasure of putting together. He simply and quite casually leans against the unfinished window frame with those big hands and dirty finger nails, undoes that heavy weighted tool belt and pulls it out to “christen” the job site. Such a vision.

It doesn’t end there when it comes to work outdoors. There are jobs that need a car or truck to get you to the job site out in the bush or the other side of town. If you’re driving solo why not pull over into a discrete location? It’s is as easy as pulling off to the side of the road or into the next rest stop, unzipping those pants and letting the fingers do the walking! A workplace once considered the domain of the men, hard working women just as capable as their male counterparts, are eager to flick the bean at the next rest stop.

Where there’s a will there is a way. Take for instance, the convenience store in Gastown, close to where I used to work with the oversexed attendant so amorous, daily, that she put a mattress in the back storeroom, so she could get up to her antics. The washrooms of the local salon, the stairwells in the office high rise, the back seat of your car buried deep in the bowels of the parkade, behind the closed door of the high-powered executive’s office. The options are endless!

Oops, now if you don’t mind me, I just have to make a quick pit stop!

Words by | Velvet Steele