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us·er pool [yü-zer pül] 

In the world of technology, a User is someone who uses a computer. More specifically, it's someone who asks stupid questions about the use of that computer.

In the context of this blog, a Pool refers to an available supply, the use of which is shared by a group.

At one of the largest entertainment companies in Los Angeles, my job is to provide technical direction and support to these users, many of whom are female. That's where things get a little messy...

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Entries in sex at work (6)

Monday
Jan102011

Tabbatha

I had drinks with Tabbatha last Wednesday night because my dick told me that I should. My brain told me that I shouldn't, so I compromised by having drinks with her, but inviting my own cock block: Maharajapuram, my Inidan programming lead. 

I invited Maharajapuram for drinks specifically because he does not drink. If you're going to invite your own cock block out for drinks, you need to make sure he doesn't become a whiskey dick or he's not gonna block anything. 

On the other hand, I decided to drink like crazy so that I wouldn't be able to do shit. The more I wanted to have sex with Tabbatha, the more I drank. But the more I drank, the more I wanted to have sex with Tabbatha. And the more I drank, the more she drank. And the more we both drank, the more obnoxious we became and the more Maharajapuram wanted to leave. 

In fact, at one point, I looked away from Tabbatha and saw that Maharajapuram was gone. Long gone. And I also noticed that my finger was inside Tabbatha under the table. My entire plan was a huge failure.

We stumbled back to the office, showed the sercurity guard our IDs, said we had some work to do. He sighed and continued reading his mag. 

We then had sex on the couch in my office. Well, sort of sex. I could barely perform. Barely function. But I pulled it off when I finally managed to get my uncooperative dick inside her. Sex with Tabbatha lasted about 10 seconds. 

Thursday night I had sex with Knipples again, but this time when she fell asleep because of her Sexolepsy, I just closed my eyes and pretended I was fucking Tabbatha correctly this time. When Knipples orgasmed, she woke up and screamed "Holy fucking shit!" and then thanked me for fucking her so well while she was asleep. 

Both women want sex again. Knipples, because it's the best sex she's ever had asleep and Tabbatha because it was the worst sex she's ever had awake. I can't win. 

Wednesday
Jan052011

More Employee Relations

I was all prepared today to come up with an excuse not to have drinks with Tabbatha tonight. In fact, I came up with a whole list to choose from: 

  • Sick grandmother (oldie but a goody)
  • Smithee, my imaginary boss, is making me work late
  • I was bitten by a bat and need to go get a rabies shot
  • I have to go home because I forgot to set my DVR to record People's Choice Awards
  • I have AIDS
  • Zombie Apocalypse

But when she walked into my office this morning, she didn't look like sweet Tabbatha. She looked like sexy slutty office worker who wants to be treated like a farm animal. 

Usually, she wears conservative business attire. You know, the button down white shirt with only the top button undone; slacks or maybe a long skirt; medium heels. 

But today, she had on a top that revealed cleavage--cleavage I didn't even know she had. She's got some sort of Victoria's Secret push-up/padded, here's-my-tennis-ball-tits-in-your-face kind of bra on under that tight black and white top. She was also wearing a black skirt above the knees with a pair of spiked heels that I could only imagine digging into my back while I nail the fuck out of her. 

"Still on for tonight?" she asked. 

"Definitely," I said without one millisecond of hesitation. 

That whole list of excuses was suddenly torched and discarded, and the don't-fuck-your-employee policy was immediately amended to be the fuck-the-living-shit-out-of-your-employee policy. 

She left my office and I just sat there trying to figure out what just happened. Regardless, looks like I'm having drinks with sweet, possibly slutty, Tabbatha tonight. But I'm sure nothing will happen... 

Monday
May102010

Blair is Suspicious

Blair is suspicious because she thinks I'm not fucking other women in the company. Whenever she thinks I'm not fucking other women in the company is when she's most suspicious that I am fucking other women in the company.  Because she knows that if I were fucking other women in the company, she'd be the last to find out. 

So she came down to I.T. today for a little snap inspection. She did not know we hired a new temp. She took one look at Aimee the Temp and now believes that I'm fucking at least one other woman in the company.

If a hot temp starts working in I.T., Blair expects me to inform her immediately. If I do not inform her immediately, she believes it's because I'm trying to fuck the new temp. However, if I do inform her immediately that a hot temp has started working in I.T., she immediately knows that I think the new temp is hot, and therefore, I will try to fuck her anyway. 

There is no way to win at this game.

But the worst thing about Aimee the Temp is the fact that her tits are huge. 

Blair knows that she is the most beautiful woman in this company and always will be. And I agree that it would be very difficult to top Blair. But Blair knows that beauty is not always the deciding factor, even though it should be.

Blair knows that bigger tits will cloud men's judgment on the matter. And even though she is the most beautiful woman in the company, there are those who will get more attention than her because they have bigger tits. Like Aimee the Temp.

Blair stormed into my office like a pissed off badger. I asked Jason Y to give us a minute. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. Or the natural disposition of a Finance manager. So Jason Y was more than happy to leave the room.

I've been dealing with Blair long enough to know exactly how to handle with this minor crisis.

I immediately disclosed the fact that Jason Y was going out with Aimee the Temp.

This is called, The Deflection.

Jason Y is a nice guy, which is why Blair has no interest in him. But if he starts dating a girl with bigger tits than her, she suddenly has interest.

"Why the fuck would he go out with her?" she snarled.

I couldn't think of one reason. But I could think of two.

"She looks like a little whore," Blair said. 

She acts like a little whore too. Monkey sex like you wouldn't believe.

"Well, I just lost respect for Jason Y," she said.

The truth is, she just gained respect for Jason Y. Nice guys don't fuck around with girls with big tits. Because the girls with big tits are too busy fucking around with guys like me. But if he is fucking around with her, that makes him seem more like a guy like me. And Blair likes guys like me. 

Well, the deflection worked. Except for the fact that Blair will now try to fuck around with Jason Y. 

My genius is my detriment. 

Tuesday
Apr142009

Delusional

Now that Blair is back with me and doesn't hate me anymore, she can no longer pretend to like me.

While she hated me, she had to pretend to like me, otherwise people would think she and I were having an affair. 

She believes that people at work who seem to hate each other, used to be fucking but are now in the middle of a lovers quarrel. So whenever we break up and Blair hates me, she pretends to like me so that nobody will know we were fucking.

On the other hand, when we're together and she does like me, she has to pretend as though she doesn't like me otherwise people will also think we're fucking. So she ignores me completely. 

Blair's boss Kornfeld, the Director of Finance, is always uncomfortable during meetings with Blair and me when she likes me because Blair pretends I'm not in the room. 

As I've mentioned before, even when I ask Blair a finance question, she looks at Kornfeld when she answers. Kornfeld just stares at her not knowing what to say since he didn't ask the question, and in fact, already knows the answer to the question. 

When Blair has a question about one of my technology projects, she looks at Kornfeld again as if he'll provide the answer. This confuses Kornfeld greatly, but before he can say anything, I answer the question. Blair then thanks Kornfeld.

Kornfeld knows, of course, that we're fucking.  

Kornfeld feels much more comfortable in meetings with Blair and me when Blair hates me because that's when Blair pretends to like me. She actually looks at me, smiles at me, and interacts with me. 

In today's meeting, Kornfeld was extremely uncomfortable because things had been going so well for so long with Blair and me, only because things had been going so badly for so long with Blair and me.

Kornfeld finally said: 

"Until you two don't get along again, you can have these meetings without me." 

And then he left the room. 

Blair looked at me and asked: 

"You don't think he knows about us, do you?"

"No," I said. "If he thinks there's anything going on between us, it's only because he's delusional."

"Good," she said, relieved.

Blair left the meeting self-assured our secret was safe.

Yes, Kornfeld is the delusional one. 

..

Friday
Oct172008

The Green Mile

I'm scheduled to go in for my vasectomy at 3:00. Regardless, I took the whole day off. You have to mentally prepare for a thing like this.

Worked out well also, since I was drinking last night and having sex with Blair in the office until late.

That's right. Sex with Blair in the office. Previously, Blair had been adamantly against sex in the office. I believe fear of losing her job had something to do with it. However, last night after drinks, I told her I had to go back up to the office to send a couple email messages that had to go out before morning.

Once we were in my office and she realized the floor was deserted, she started getting ideas. It helps that alcohol impairs good judgement, however, in a situation like this, it's best to let Blair come up with the idea. If she's against doing something, the only way to get her to do it is to let her come up with the idea herself.

And even though I have a couch in my office, she wanted it on the desk.

Good girl.

We did eventually make it to the couch, but that was after I had her plastered up against the window, tits pressed up against the cold glass, looking down at the city. That really turned her on.

We left around midnight. It was a very good last supper...

An now here I sit awaiting my moment to walk the Green Mile.

Alright, so I've been a little overdramatic about this whole cutting into my balls things. But hell, it's my goddamn balls.

I'll let you know how it all turns out...