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Office Bull, by AnotherAperson

Benjamin the mouse had been desperate for a job, and so took the first one that accepted him. He found himself working in an office the size of a toilet cubicle, on the sixth floor of a nondescript building, far from his flat. The room was between two larger offices, and felt like an afterthought. It was empty besides a computer and his desk. Whoever had organised it had been thoughtful enough to make them both mouse sized, but that was all. Otherwise, the space felt soulless. There was nothing to make it feel like it was his own, or that he now belonged there.

The added dust lying around was just salt in the wound. He would rather sit in the corridor outside, but there was always too much work to do.

First thing in the morning, he was handed a wad of forms that customers had filled out. Ben's job was to look at them, make sure they'd been filled in properly, then to copy the information into the system. It took all morning before he went for lunch. Then he returned, had three cups of coffee, and received another brick of pages to fill the afternoon. It was gruelling, and he soon forgot how small his office felt.

Not even his breaks offered respite. Moving around the office felt like a challenge in of itself, thanks to his coworkers. There were four others on their floor. In the two cubicles beside him, there was a middle-aged crocodile who made origami, and a stern gazelle whose horns scarred the ceiling. Across from them was their boss. He was a fat leopard who took a page out of the crocodile's book, and spent all day going through sudoku puzzles.

They all shared their ability to tower over the mouse. It was impossible to move around in the same room together without walking into someone. Ben always found himself pressed up against a wall to let someone pass, or craning up his head to be able to look at them as they talked. Even if he did manage to walk down the hall without bumping into someone, the space then felt too big. It became eerie and nerve-wracking: waiting for a scaly tail to appear and knock him onto his back, or for him to turn and find a spotted gut shoved up against him.

His boss was the hardest to be around, but it was nothing compared to the final person on the floor. Down the hall, there was a bull, and he was easily the largest of them all. Somehow, he managed to be big in every way Ben was small.

The mouse was white furred, had big ears and a wiry tail. His species stood two foot shorter than most, and his short stature was compounded by his pencil-thin frame and bony limbs. It made his tail and ears appear comically large, so Ben kept them tucked close to himself as much as he could.

In contrast, the bull had black fur with short ears, and broad horns that could put a hole in the ceiling. More noticeably though, the bull was just large. His shirts strained under the constant pressure, while his tie looked small placed around his broad neck. He looked as if he spent all day going between eating and working out, rather than holed up in some office somewhere. He gestured broadly, laughed a lot, and constantly moved around. He always had a crazed, contagious grin. Above which, a heavy, garish piercing went through his nose and shook whenever he moved. It dominated his face, even his whole body. Ben found it hard to look away from it until the bull turned around. At which point he found his attention elsewhere before he scurried away.

The others didn't seem to mind the work or the environment. He soon realised it was because their ears weren't sensitive enough. They couldn't hear anything beyond the thin wood of their doors and the rustling of paper. But Ben heard everything. He could hear each conversation, the constant clacking of keys, footfalls, the scratching of puzzles and the folding of paper. It was draining. By the time Ben got home, he could only get himself to complete the necessities. He ate something, went to bed, then got up for work. He always felt too dead to bother touching himself, or to go to find a hookup for the night. Soon, his daily coffees soon went from three to six. It was only then that he realised how aroused he was, and how tightly his cock filled his pants.

The one saving grace was the bull. Ben soon learned his name was Marshall. He'd worked there for five years, and was friends with everyone else in the office. Even the cheetah who did nothing but play sudoku and chew them out all day held a smile for him. The bull spent all day stomping from cubicle to cubicle, and back to the drinks machine. He entered without knocking, leant in on the door frame, and drew the occupant into conversation. After laughter, he left, and the cycle repeated itself.

It was distracting. His jokes were too suggestive for Ben's tastes. He made gestures with his hands, and shook his broad ass as he moved. He waggled his tongue and moaned lewdly, and Ben had to hear it all. It often made his erection painful with desire.

As the days grew on, the mouse noticed it more and more. He listened in on Marshall's thundering hooves and the swish of his short tail. He smirked as told the cheetah about sitting on those who are late, or squirmed when he suggested adding some "flavour" to his coffee.

Work became harder. The pile stopped growing thin. One day it grew larger than the one before, and his pants had a noticeable stain. He got up to grab another coffee, but stopped to let the bull pass through the hallway.

The bull had just been talking to the crocodile about his last fling, but Ben couldn't know that. He kept his ears pinned back and said nothing. It didn't stop Marshall from stopping as he passed. He sniffed the air around his nose ring, and turned towards Ben. He glanced down at his damp spot before the mouse could cover it.

"Seems the paperwork get you as aroused as they do for me. Do you want to know the best way I manage to stay focused?"

Ben blushed and shook his head.

Marshall just laughed, then moved to another cubicle. His hips swayed and tail lifted as he went.

Ben watched him go with awe, following his muscled ass and legs up his back to his grinning head. He had turned back to the mouse before entering the cubicle, catching Ben in the act. He laughed, filling the whole office. His piercing bounced as he did, and his belly appeared even broader than before.

"Maybe I should sit on you some day."

Ben half panicked, and dashed away to grab his coffee. When he returned, Marshall had disappeared. He got no more work done that day despite the drink.

...

Little was done from then on. Ben found himself frequently bumping into Marshall whenever he left his office. The bull would grin and make a crude comment.

"That tail must be useful. Seriously, it looks good on you compared to whatever I've got. But I think it'll look better wrapped around--"

"Do you enjoy pineapple juice? I try to have a cup of the stuff every morning. I've heard it's good for--"

"What large ears you have, mouse. All the better to hear the sounds I'll make when--"

Ben always scurried away before he could finish, but it was enough. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to become any more distracted than he already found himself, but the words had their desired effect. The mouse found himself daydreaming about the bull's thick ass and bulge, and the size of what must be underneath. It cut hours out of Ben's Day that he didn't have to spare.

Soon his boss noticed. The cheetah came around and sat on his desk, making it strain under his weight. He went on and on about team cohesion and work ethic, but all Ben could focus on was his own erection pressed against his leg.

It only got worse as he caught a whiff of the bull, and heard his hooves approach. He knocked on the office door but came in before either could answer. He grinned down at the mouse and winked. Ben blushed back. Now there were two giant men looming over him.

"Boss!" said Marshal. "You promised to show me the solution to the killer sudoku puzzle you showed me yesterday. I still haven't been able to solve the sixes and nines that you told me to start with."

The cheetah lost his dower look. He stood up to his full height, then clapped Ben on his back. The force nearly knocked him off his chair.

"Ah! Let me show you how I solved it. Once you see it, you're going to kick yourself for not noticing--"

His boss got up and left. Marshall smirked and whispered to the mouse before closing the door behind him.

"You owe me one, Mouse."

Ben worked overtime until the cleaners kicked him out. He couldn't keep his eyes open the next morning, and fell asleep against the keyboard.

He awoke to a familiar hand petting his back and gently easing him awake. Marshall grinned when he lifted his head, and offered him a coffee. It was in the bull's personal mug. On its side, it had a picture of a shark and the words 'yes, I bite' underneath. It was ugly and looked massive in the mouse's grip, but at that moment, Ben could've asked for nothing more. He snatched it and drank deep, pulling away only for air. It tasted a touch sweet, but it was otherwise perfect, and he smiled up at Marshal and thanked him.

"It's no problem, mouse, but I've got to go, otherwise Boss will be up both our asses, and I don't like to share."

Ben thanked him again, and Marshal waved him off. He turned and tried to leave but was stopped.

"Ben?"

The mouse hummed and looked over. His tail had wrapped around the bull's thigh and had him hooked in place without either noticing.

The mouse squeaked and let the bull go.

Marshal laughed again. Loud enough for their boss to hear, but neither minded. He put his hand on Ben's head and gave what the mouse could only describe as a stroke or pet. It made him shiver, and lasted a second too long before the bull left, and his boss replaced him.

The shark cup made the conversation bearable. It sat at the corner of his desk and made him smile every time he looked at it. It gave him fuzzy and happy thoughts for the rest of the day.

...

"You look good like this. You should bend over and pick things up more often."

Ben huffed and the bull laughed. He bent over and helped pick up the spilt papers.

Once finished, they both straightened up. Marshal grinned and patted him on the rump, and the mouse scampered away. He shook his hips a little as he went, and didn't run fast as usual. He could admit to himself he quite liked the attention, and hoped the bull appreciated his own efforts.

Physical contact became more and more common. Usually it was tame, with a hand on the mouse's shoulder or in the middle of his back. Sometimes it went lower to his hips or to the base of his tail. Though, if the bull was feeling extra confident, he made a quick grope of his ass or slapped it hard enough to send Ben stumbling.

It was embarrassing and arousing in equal measure. Ben struggled to say anything after, or even to retaliate with something similar. He blushed and stood in place, and took a minute each time before noticing his blushing face and tented trousers.

Marshal loved it. If nothing else, it helped break the ice more between them. The pair started having lunch together. The bull showed the mouse his favourite Chinese fast-food place a few blocks down, and there they chatted about work and home.

It was nice, and made Ben realise how much Marshall could, and would, eat. It explained how he somehow managed to appear as wide as he was tall. Ben couldn't imagine it for himself, but Marshal looked happy, and the mouse wasn't going to complain. He loved how sexy and powerful it made his coworker.

Afterwards, they would head back to the office, one large arm wrapped around the mouse's waist.

Warming up to Marshall made the others friendlier too. The leopard sent him sudoku puzzles; the crocodile gave him a paper crane; and the gazelle frowned down at him less often. It all made the tiny office feel more like his own.

What made him truly feel like he belonged, though, was when he opened his computer one morning to find someone had changed his background. It was now a collage of muscular bulls. All male with plump bodies and large asses, all posing for the camera nude. Their dicks hung freely: all giant and leaking for the camera.

It made the mouse pause and blush. He imagined the smell and the feel of those bodies around him. He imagined their cum-covered muscles pressed against him, and the sounds of deep pleasured moans as they fucked him over and over. It took another hour out of his day. He kept the wallpaper until the cheetah made him change it back a week later.

Marshall laughed about it, and gave another wink.

"See? Boss denies it, but I look the best naked. What do you think, mouse?"

Ben said nothing, but this time he didn't run away. The hand now felt soothing against his back.

...

Christmas came around, and everyone exchanged gifts at work. Ben gave Marshall a new mug with mouse ears. It was a touch small for the larger male, but he thought he'd appreciate it. When the mouse opened his gift, he found a large collection of white jockstraps. They were suggestive and felt tight around his crotch, with a cup that felt far too small for his erection. Still, he loved them. He began wearing them to work, and Marshal knew it. He never mentioned it, but the secretive smirks were enough.

They were both building towards something, but neither wanted to break first. Most of their days were spent together between bouts of work whenever the leopard finished a puzzle.

Marshal teased and touched more often. Ben liked to curl his tail around him in return, and they now shared coffee mugs.

It meant that every time the mouse came home, he felt more needy than the day before. But it made the following day more exciting. More like a game he was playing with the bull rather than the mental taxation it first felt like. It had become challenging in a much better way.

Marshal seemed to feel the pressure too. He had begun sprouting similar tents in his trousers, and Ben even managed to make him blush once when he curled his tail against it. The bovine moaned, then for the first time, ran away to his own office before their coworkers noticed.

...

The tipping point came when Ben entered his office, and found a jockstrap waiting on his desk. It could only come from one person; it was in the same brand that Ben currently wore. It was the size of it that left him reeling, more so than the fact Marshall had decided to leave it there. The cup on its own was the size of his head, and Ben could easily imagine pushing his whole head inside and huffing the hot interior.

He imagined how large the bull must be to wear it. He thought of the collage, and the hot, dripping cocks across his screen now pushing against his muzzle, leaving a wet trail of pre-cum. Guttural moans followed before the mouse was coated from head to toe.

With the jockstrap so close, he didn't need to imagine the smell. It was clear what the bull was trying to do. By leaving it there, the mouse would never be able to hide away from Marshall. His presence would haunt and arouse him even in his own personal space, until the bull returned to collect it. If he ever did.

Ben whimpered to himself and glanced at the door. There was little movement throughout the office, and so he risked picking up the fabric and bringing it to his nose. He kept it a few inches away from himself, and took a small sniff.

The feeling was addictive; Marshall had worn it recently. It was still damp against his fingers and ripe with virile smells. Ben pushed a hand against his erection and held the jockstrap closer. His eyes closed. Soon, any distance between the source and his face was too far and he pulled it across his face. There was more than enough room inside for everything but his ears, and it felt almost as good as the real thing.

He moaned into it, and undid his trousers. He stroked himself through the fabric, and felt the pre-cum already drooling through. It felt small in his hand compared to the size of Marshall's jockstrap. At full length, the bull's cock must be twice, or even three-times larger than his own. He probably wouldn't be able to get both hands around it.

Ben panted and stroked himself. His mind began to haze, and thoughts of the outside office dimmed. He imagined the hot bull's he'd seen on his computer. He imagined their fat, muscular bodies, and their dripping cocks in front of him, and all around him, pressed against his tail and up against his face. But soon it was just the one bull, laid out in front of him, with his giant piercing and body all open and waiting for the mouse above.

...

Ben didn't know how long he was stroking himself. His crotch was soaked in pre-cum, and his white fur had greyed and matted with sweat. Something outside had stopped him. He pulled the jockstrap away to dimly hear a knocking at his door.

He shoved the underwear away, but it was too late. Marshall had already poked his nose and piercing inside, followed by his wide grin. His eyes settled on the mouse and his pupils blew wide.

There was little room for the two of them. The knocked a shelf and sent pages scattering as he slammed the door behind him and moved towards him.

"I was hoping to find you like this after everyone else had left, but looks like we both couldn't wait that long."

Ben protested. He wheeled his chair back against the wall to make some space, but it was futile. Marshall had pulled off his shirt in front of him. Underneath, it was even better than Ben imagined; he was more attractive than the entire collage combined. Without his shirt, he somehow seemed larger. His stomach on its own was greater than the mouse entirely, and a long line of fur trailed in a thick line across it, and almost tickled Ben's whiskers. His eyes followed it to the bull's pectorals. Two more piercings went through each of his nipples, each big enough that Ben struggled to imagine fitting either in his mouth.

Above, Marshall flexed his arms and grinned. He spent a minute teasing the mouse by pulling on each of his nipples, then pulled down his trousers and tossed them to one side. He wore another white jockstrap underneath. Or at least, it used to be a pure white. It had gone grey with sweat. His thick cock was straining, and let out visible throbs against the fabric, until a dot of pre-cum appeared.

It made Ben whimper in desire. Marshall just pushed closer, until his belly fur was rubbing across the mouse's snout, and his trapped cock was humping against his chest. Ben could feel its heat even through the fabric. It felt as if he lay in bed against a heated pillow.

"Do you like what you see, Mouse? I remember once promising to sit on you."

Ben didn't reply. The bull's musk was dizzying. Ben's head spun with arousal, and he wrapped his thin arms around the bull, pulling the bulk further against himself.

Marshall made a pleased noise and rolled his hips against him.

"I'll take that as a yes, then."

He patted the mouse between the ears and moved away. Ben's head followed him for a moment before he realised what he was doing. His posture became tense all over again and panic filled his face, that not even the promise of sex could abate.

There was a banging at the door, and the cheetah's voice came through in a hiss.

"Ben? Have you seen Marshall anywhere? Is he in there with you?"

Ben's anxiety grew and grew, but Marshall just sighed. He winked at the mouse and played with his nipple piercings before calling back.

"I'm here, boss; I'll be just a minute. It's been a long day, and Ben's just helping me loosen up a bit."

Before Ben could react, the bull turned around and broke another shelf with his shoulder. But, his grin remained, as he pointed his ass and exposed hole at the blushing mouse. He gave a shake of his hips, then took steps backwards towards the chair. His short tail flickered happily above.

"Does it look as good as you imagined, mouse? Why don't you give it a taste first."

The cheetah seemed to hear what he said, and he called back through the door.

"Don't you dare, Ben! Save it for when you get home. Stop whatever you're doing and open this door."

Ben thought dimly about complying, but he felt hypnotised by the sight in front of him. He watched the happily swishing tail and the pink of his hole nestled between his broad legs. Soon he couldn't imagine Marshall putting his clothes back on and leaving. He nodded again, then pushed his snout forwards.

Marshall met him halfway. He grabbed hold of the base of his tail and pulled it aside, then pushed back against the mouse's head.

Ben shuddered below. Before, he thought the musk of the jockstrap was strong, but compared to this it was nothing. It had him moaning, and lapping out his tongue, to taste whatever he could reach.

It was hard, at first. His tongue was just collecting fur until the bull helped. He reached behind and spanked himself, before spreading himself open with both hands. His hole became the perfect size for the 'O' of Ben's lips. The knocking became faint; it was muffled with his ears pulled back against his head, and the bull's ass surrounding him.

The mouse got to work. He dragged his tongue down to the edge of the jockstrap's fabric, before moving upwards to along his crack until he reached the hole. He circled it with his tongue, coating the taste of a day's sweat around his mouth, savouring it, and moaning with it.

Above, the bull let out a groan, and the knocking stopped.

"Seems like you do. How about I make this a bit easier for you..."

Slowly, as not to crush the mouse all at once, he leaned further and further back, until the mouse's head was pressed between the wall and Marshall's behind. It was more of a giant squat than anything, that slowly dipped lower and lower against the smaller male pressed into his chair.

The rest of the world disappeared as the pressure increased. Ben's arousal filled him with a desperate and passionate energy to please the bull. He licked faster and could feel his previous reservations falling away. His breath became shallow and damp and heady with the musky and erotic taste. He circled his hole over and over until it was slick, before he pushed his tongue to the centre, and tried to push inside.

Marshall tensed, but Ben was insistent. It slid inside, and both moaned. The mouse's movements became wild. He licked around as much as he could, even pulling the bull closer and letting him sit further on his face to push himself deeper.

It left him delirious. The lack of air was leaving him dizzy. Soon his lungs burned, but he didn't pull away until he could continue no longer. At that point he tried to pull away, but found the bull unmoving. He had to spank him three times before Marshall pulled away.

Ben's face felt loopy. His eyes were unfocused and his whole muzzle was damp. Drool ran down his chin, but he didn't move to hide any of it. His eyes stayed focused on the ring of muscle in front of him, and Marshall tensed it to give him a show.

"Are the two of you done yet? Whatever you're doing it sounds disgusting..."

The cheetah didn't sound disgusted.

In front of Ben, the tail continued to wag. It broke the string of drool between the two of them as the mouse panted, and did his best to wipe his wet muzzle. All he could taste was the bull's sweat stuck at the back of his throat.

"Ben's just getting started, boss; we'll be a bit longer."

Marshall turned around and grinned down at Ben. The mouse kept licking his muzzle, and his whiskers kept twitching with the feeling of sweat plastered across his face. His eyes looked fatigued, but neither felt done just yet.

The bull went down onto his knees in front of the chair and put his hands over the mouse's hips.

"My turn to have a taste..." he murmured, before he pushed his pierced snout forwards, and nuzzled across the mouse. First tracing over his thin chest, then moving down to the open lip of his trousers.

Ben groaned and kicked his trousers the rest of the way down, then spread his legs wide.

Marshall laughed at what he saw. Underneath, he found the sexy underwear he'd gifted the mouse not long before. It was another white jockstrap, tented and leaking with arousal.

"I knew this would look good on you."

He sniffed at it, and pushed the cool metal of his nose ring right up against it. The smell made him shudder before he pulled back and lapped his tongue over it, bringing the first taste of pre-cum to his lips. The pair of them squirmed from the sensation. He licked and groped for a long time. He seemed to lose himself in the motions, before Ben reached down and pulled him away.

The bull blinked up at him, then laughed. He moved away from the chair, then lay back across the floor. He spread his body wide, with both his hands behind his head, and his legs in the air. His rear pointed open and waiting for the mouse while the bull continued to grin smugly.

There was a bang at the door, and the wood shuddered in its frame.

"I don't pay the two of you to fuck on this property. Put some clothes on and get out here."

Marshall slapped his ass with both hands. It was loud enough for those outside to hear, but it had its intended effect. Ben's head snapped away from the door, and back to the ass waiting for him.

Marshall spread himself open and played with the flesh of his ass and called back.

"Just getting changed now, Boss."

He lowered his voice and smirked at Ben. His hands spread himself open further.

"Leave them. Let them listen. Come over here and make me scream, Mouse."

The mouse nodded once then lunged forward. He kicked away the rest of his clothes and crawled over to the bull. His cock wagged from thigh-to-thigh as he went. He pressed his mouth back against his waiting hole and sucked and licked with a pleased moan. His hands roved over the smooth fur and slapped him a few times to make sure his boss could hear, then moved upwards, tracing his tongue across the bull's body as he went. The trail followed the curve of his stomach up to one nipple. He found his could fit the metal in his mouth, as he rubbed his cock across Marshall's hole, lubing his length up with saliva and his own pre-cum.

"You know, I think it would look sexy if your ears had--"

Marshall's voice cut off, as the mouse kissed him on the muzzle, licking into his mouth and sucking the same he'd done moments before. At the same time, he drew his hips back, and drove his cock deep inside the bull with a great slap of hips.

At the sound, the cheetah stuttered and faltered on the other side of the door. Other voices had appeared: likely the rest of the office had heard and had come to listen.

Marshall gave another loud moan for them, even through their wet kiss. His tail flickered, and his leg gave a light kick upwards from the pleasure, as the mouse began to fuck.

In another world, Ben would have kept it slow and passionate. He would have lazily fucked back and forth long into the evening until they were both begging and restless for an orgasm. But the last few months had already left him tired. Non-stop lewd comments and inappropriate gestures had been more than enough foreplay. Now, all he wanted was to fuck the bull as hard as he could, and to cum deep inside him.

Ben's hips became a blur. He let out a high-pitched moan, but it was silenced as a fat tongue pushed into his mouth and almost gagged him. He sucked and licked the appendage until he was breathless from exertion.

Marshall let his head roll back against the floor and grunted. He looked close already.

"Just like that..."

Ben slowed and moved away to pull away the bull's jockstrap. It made him pause for a moment before the bull whined, and he drove his cock back in. The cock he saw was at least the size of his forearm. It had another hefty ring driven through the head, making it droop low against his stomach under the weight. Pre-cum oozed down and over the metal in a steady, throbbing stream, with each of the mouse's powerful thrusts. The sight made Ben move even faster than before.

Their mouths met each other in a pant: in a drooling, weak attempt of a kiss. Marshall wrapped his arms around the mouse and held him close against him, while Ben tugged on each of his nipples and felt all over his body.

"F--fuck I'm..."

Marshall didn't finish. He grunted, then screamed out Ben's name as he came all over himself. The first shots lathered across his chest, before it moved upwards against his neck and the bottom of his face.

The mouse licked some up but didn't slow; he was only a few seconds behind. His whole body seemed to curl around the movement of his hips, before he suddenly sagged against the bull and came inside. It was meagre compared to Marshall's load, but the bull let out a soft sigh regardless, and tensed a few times to milk it all out.

At that moment, Marshall really did feel like a bed to the mouse, as the months of fatigue finally disappeared through their messy hug. He felt his body rise and fall with each of Marshall's breaths, and took in his heady scent as each calmed down.

In the sudden silence, they heard chatter through the door.

"Jesus, are you two finally finished in there?

"Leave them alone, boss; they were much worse before when they thought they were being subtle."

"Subtle about what?"

Marshall chuckled, petted Ben, and played with one of his ears. The mouse reached over and played with the bull's nose ring. He asked him if it hurt to have it put in.

"Would you like to find out?"

Ben just nodded with another blush.

...

After a few minutes, the mouse pulled out with another moan. His cum soon leaked out over the bull's legs in a thin line. It wasn't much, but he watched it with a vague feeling of pride. A few minutes ago, he knew he wouldn't have hesitated to push his tongue inside to lick it up. Now his mouth felt dry, and he was dying for another coffee. He couldn't remember many he'd already had.

Marshall staggered up with a wince, and pulled Ben to his feet. It once again became clear how much larger the bull appeared over him.

"We should have done that months ago... Though, if we did it when we first met, I think I'd still feel it now."

Ben gave him a smug smile, and Marshall leant down to give him a kiss.

"I won't be able to do anything like that for at least another week, I don't think... But I'm sure we'll think of something to do in the meantime. Keep the jockstrap for now; you can return it tomorrow..."

He gave a wink, then with a great saunter of his hips, he flung open the door, and strolled out of the office. The cheetah and the mouse made a choked sound of shock, before Ben slammed the door shut and quickly pulled on his clothes.

"Hey, boss; like what you see?"

"Marshall! You-- "

Ben didn't hear the rest; his attention was back on the jockstrap, still waiting on his desk. He felt tired now, but knew he'd be huffing the material again very soon. And only if the Bull wasn't there himself, sitting against his face once again.

The mouse smiled at the thought, then sat back down in his chair and dozed. He knew Marshall wouldn't be the only one to visit him soon. He wasn't imagining his coworkers' and boss's flushed features before the door slammed shut. Maybe the job wouldn't be so bad after all.