*books seat in next handbasket*

[queenofstars]

*headdesk* I've never thought these words would pass my lips, like ever, but I'm going to hell either way so what the hell; boss S. is wreaking havoc on my libido today. *looks shifty* In my defence, he is the stocky, broad-shouldered cut that I have come to identify with David Hewlett. *ahem* Usually I don't pay attention (or at least try not to) but today he is wearing this black long-sleeved cotton turtleneck that's so obviously his favorite, the one that stretches over his shoulder blades like a fucking glove and (breathe, damn it) skintight black jeans. The leave-nothing-to-the-imagination skintight kind. *dies*
And he's coming around to my desk for no real reason with this small, weird, giddy smile like there's an injoke I'm supposed to be into too and I can't help starring when he turns his back to me to go back inside his office and OMFG, it's like he's doing it on purpose! *facepalm*
I'm serious, I've been ogling his ass for, like, hours. I'm such a dirty-old-pervert; I mean this is my boss people, you know? The person I'm working for. *hits head on desk repeatedly*