i.
Jan threw Michael into the supply closet.

She knew as soon as she hit the button calling up the elevator that she couldn’t wait to get back to his condo to have a piece of him. She needed Michael’s man meat, and she needed it now.

She pressed him up against the shelves with the length of her body and fisted the lapels of his suit in her hands. She kissed him hard and nudged her knee between his legs.

“Jan.”

She ignored him. Talking now was a bad idea. Michael talking now was an even worse one.

“JAN.”

She pulled back, exasperated.

“Yes Michael?”

“You had me at hello.”

Jan refused to let that comment ruin the moment for her. She shook it off- literally- and quickly returned her lips to Michael’s mouth. She ran her hand down Michael’s thigh and firmly placed it against his package. When Michael giggled into her mouth, she rolled her eyes, but refused to let it deter her from the task at hand. She trailed kisses quickly down his chest, pausing at his belt before ripping it from his waist with her teeth.

“Wow,” he laughed.

Not wanting to risk another stupid thing coming out of his mouth, Jan hurriedly unzipped Michael’s pants and pushed both them and his boxers down to the ground. She was removing her panty hose as quickly as possible when he opened his mouth again.

“Jan?”

Sigh.

“Yes Michael?”

“I’m just a boy, standing in front of a girl, asking her to love him.”

Jan was torn between disgust that she was about to fuck a man in a supply closet who had just quoted Notting Hill, and ridiculous affection that the man who just said it was standing with his arms open and his pants around his ankles, staring at her lovingly. For the sake of the moment, she went with the latter and wrapped herself in his arms, settling down over him and taking him in completely.

After they finished, she balled her panties up in her hands as he pulled up his trousers and whispered in his ear, “Okay, now you can meet at your condo in fifteen minutes.”

She kissed his cheek and practically ran to her car.


ii.
Ever since the sexual harassment seminar, Darryl couldn’t stop thinking about her. From nine to five, Monday through Friday, he thought about her. With each heavy box of paper he lifted, he thought of how he’d rather be lifting her, up, up and over him.

Hot girl.

It wasn’t her name, but it was good enough for him.

Hot girl.

Finally one Thursday he gave in and fished her number out of his hook up drawer, feeling as if his heart had stopped beating when he found a napkin with the name Hot Girl scribbled on it. He ran a hand down over his face, wiping away the sweat that dotted his forehead, and reached for his phone.

She met him at Dunder Mifflin the next day, after every one had left and the office was empty. She walked in and squealed his name. It had been years, but Darryl wasn’t the kind of lover who was easily forgotten.

He still didn’t know her name, so instead of speaking, he took her by the hand and led her into the supply closet. Darryl had brought up his iPod speakers from the warehouse and so when they reached the closet, Marvin Gaye was already softly singing in the background. Darryl lifted Hot Girl onto to small table against the one shelfless wall, and buried a hand into her hair.

He drug his full lips across her collar bone while sliding his hands over her breasts and up her thighs. He pushed her skirt up and undid his fly. She scooted down to the edge of the table, eager to have him inside. She gasped when he entered her and began thrusting to the rhythm of the Marvin Gaye.

“Oh, Darryl!”

“Oh hot girl!”

“Dar-r-r-r-r-y-l!”

“Yea, you like that, don’t you?”

“Ohhhhh YES!”

“Does the carpet match the drapes?”

“Yes!”

“DOES THE CARPET MATCH THE DRAPES?!?!”

“YES!!!!!”

It was as good as the first time he banged her.


iii.
Yes! Oh my God! The Scranton branch wasn’t closing and Kelly was soooo excited! Ryan was still her boyfriend, and he would be her boyfriend for like, ever! Kissing him in the kitchen against the fridge was super hot. When she pulled away and saw that he was totally happy too, she knew she had to have him like, right now. Kelly quickly looked to her right and left and made sure no one was watching before pulling Ryan by the tie into the supply closet.

“Kelly,” he tried to stop her, knowing this was a dangerous idea. There were still people in the office. But there was no stopping Kelly Kapur when she got that look in her eye, and so he followed her into the closet.

“Ryan,” she said firmly, “Take off your pants.”

“WHAT?”

She sighed. “Just do it Ryan, okay? I’m trying to make this a hot sexy moment that we’ll remember for like, the rest of our lives and think back about someday when we’re old and wrinkly and need to remember how much we were totally like Brangelina. Cause Brangelina would totally do it in this supply closet Ryan, and you know I’m right.”

He knew Kelly enough to know that the only way he was getting out of this was to comply with her wishes and take off his pants. So he did.

“Oh!” she squealed, clapping. “Little Ryan wants to play!”

“KELLY,” he said sternly, “FOR THE LAST TIME, just... don’t call it Little Ryan, okay?”

She grinned. “Big Ryan?”

“Well... that’s better...”

She clapped her hands and dropped to her knees, covering Big Ryan with quick, tiny kisses. Even though it was ridiculous, it was something he’d grown used to, and Ryan quickly became hard under her mouth. She wrapped her hands around the back of his thighs and ran her tongue up and down his length before fully taking him in her mouth.

Ryan bit his lip as he came, staring at the supply closet door, praying to whatever God might be listening that no one walked in on them. Once she was sure he had finished, Kelly popped up on her feet to meet his eye line and ran her fingers through his hair.

“I love you, Ryan,” she cooed, staring into his eyes.

He hated admitting it, but he loved her too, and told her so sheepishly as he pulled up his pants.


iv.
Well Michael wasn’t interested. He walked out of the office after taking her topless picture without saying a word. She sighed. Another rejection.

Meredith was pulling her shirt back on when she heard someone clear his throat behind her. She turned around quickly, breasts still half exposed.

“Oh. Hi, Creed.”

“Hello.”

He didn’t bother shifting his eyes from her breasts, and Meredith made no attempt to cover them up.

“Great party, huh?” she said.

“Yep.”

His eyes were still fixed on her chest. Eh, she thought. Creed was no Michael Scott, but she was drunk, and he would do.

“Do you like ‘em?” She shook her shoulders and let her blouse fall down around her elbows.

Creed pondered the question and nodded. “They’re okay.”

“Wanna touch ‘em?”

Creed shrugged. “Yea, why not.” He took a few steps toward her and almost mechanically placed his hand on her breast. He squeezed it a couple times, bounced it up and down, and pinched her nipple. “Not bad.”

“Thank you,” Meredith smiled. “You wanna...” she motioned her head towards the kitchen.

Creed shook his head. “I’m not hungry.”

“No, she said, “The supply closet.” Meredith raised her eyebrows, hoping Creed would catch her meaning. She really needed to get laid, especially now that someone had been tweaking her nipple.

Creed shrugged again and said sure. He followed her into the supply closet where she quickly undressed. Standing naked before him, Meredith instructed Creed to take off his pants. He did so immediately, and flipped her around, bending her over against the shelves.

When they were finished, Meredith picked up her clothes off the floor and redressed herself. “Thanks,” she said, “That was great.” It was the best compliment she could muster, and really, it hadn’t been that bad.

“Yep,” he said pulling on his pants. “See ya Mary Beth.”

She watched him walk away as he left the supply closet.

“Its Meredith,” she said dryly as she finished buttoning up her shirt.


v.
When she said, “No cookie,” she usually meant it. But an afternoon spent watching Dwight, manly as he was, gliding effortlessly over the ice had gotten her all riled up. He was like Brian Boitano. So graceful. She needed to be close to him as soon as possible, but... how? Her eyes scanned the office as her co-workers began leaving for the weekend.

The supply closet.

She sent Dwight a quick email letting him know that cookie would be served there in thirty minutes. She was sure that thirty minutes was long enough for everyone to have left.

She was right.

She stood up from her desk as he watched her from his, and sauntered into the kitchen. He immediately followed.

“Hello Dwight.”

“Hello Angela.”

“I was in the supply closet earlier and, as the safety officer, I feel there are some... violations regarding the placement of certain chemicals next to... certain boxes of toner.”

“That is an appalling safety violation.”

“It is. Would you care to join me in the supply closet so I can point them out to you?”

“Yes,” he whispered, “As Assistant Regional Manager of Dunder Mifflin Scranton, it is my responsibility to be...” Dwight’s eyes ran over her body, settling on her bosom. “Abreast of these types of situations.”

Angela pursed her lips and nodded. Dwight held the supply closet door open for her. Once inside, safely hidden from the outside world, she reached up and pulled his face down to hers, kissing him feverishly. Even though she knew it was whorish, Angela was weak, and she allowed her hands to run down across his chest and belly.

Angela was typically the one who set the boundaries during their intimate moments, and she was feeling particularly frisky this afternoon, so she took his hands and placed them on top of her breasts, outside of her sweater vest.

“Only on top,” she told him sternly. Heavy petting was for sluts who took the slow train to Philly, and she much preferred light petting anyway. At least until she was married.

Mrs. Angela Schrute.

The thought sent her into a tizzy and she hopped up onto his hips, wrapping her legs around his waist. She moaned as Dwight ran his hand over the wool of her sweater, feeling just enough of his touch to know that she would be praying for forgiveness later on this evening.

Once she’d had enough, Angela placed her hands on his shoulders and lowered herself to the ground. She rearranged her clothes and smoothed out any wrinkles their little tryst might have caused.

“Thank you Dwight. As the safety officer I feel that this situation is now under control.”

“The pleasure was all mine, Angela. Please alert me immediately if you spot any other... violations in the office. In the conference room, or the annex, or...”

“That’s enough,” she scolded him. She smoothed out her skirt one more time and walked out the door.

There was a cold shower waiting for her at home. A very cold shower.