Looking to rub one out

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According to a small survey one Time Out NY writer did, more than a third of people she spoke to masturbate at work. Sometimes I would do it whil e I was closing up shop after everyone had left. If I wasn't busy and I was bored out of my mind and horny AF, I'd look at Tumblr with the volume off and then go in the bathroom and rub one out.

I've never been caught to my knowledge but there were a few close calls. It turns me on. I think that with the adrenaline plus the stress that my job brings, taking time out for myself during the day makes me a better person.

Was it that part of my cycle? So I went in the bathroom and undid my pants, probably pulled them down a ways for proper leverage, and gave myself a quick, utilitarian orgasm, equal parts clit and g-spot stimulation. I do remember smirking at myself in the mirror — while washing my hands, obviously — and then returning as a much more present, focused employee.

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Just taking one for the team. It was some of the best money I've ever made and. After about six months of working that job I had gotten fairly comfortable. My daily routine was clock in, pick up my work orders, and then just sit around drinking coffee and bullshitting with the other maintenance techs. There was a wing at the hospital that was shut down to the public. You had to know a special code on one of the elevators to get to it.

It was creepy, with old medical equipment strung everywhere. The exit s were hanging by wires.

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That's where I would always find a basically deserted bathroom to jerk it in. Masturbating there was always also a bit of a creep thrill because people that worked there swore it was haunted. I once had a weird experience in a shut-down ER ward. I was looking for old beds to repair and looked inside of a very large bathroom with a shower. There was steam — almost fog — in it. I didn't think it was that strange because I knew it was a shower but I went inside and the shower was not on. The steam seemed to be coming from nowhere. It made my skin crawl.

Also the thought of God-only-knows how many people had died in there because the hospital was over a hundred years old. I basically raced for the door and, in the process I saw a toilet seat slam down on the porcelain. Once I got out the door slammed shut. Wind couldn't explain it because no windows were open.

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I have absolutely no explanation for it, to this day. I imagine if there was any security cameras I gave someone a good show. Another time, I was working receiving in a warehouse and one of our vendors used to come in for quality assurance checks. I think one time she caught me staring at her butt as she opened up power supplies. She started pushing the envelope: wearing shorter shirts, bending over longer, pointing her body at me more. I remember having to excuse myself a lot.

I'm sure she knew. Never broken anything, fallen down, or hurt myself. This article was originally published on July 15, By Tracey Anne Duncan.

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