Falling Read Online Free

with Tina at lunch time
a week ago. A highly unusual occurrence to be fair. Even though she works close
by she is a home bird at lunchtime and prefers thirty minutes in her own home
to an hour in the nearest Pret-a-Manger or munching at her desk. She phoned and
asked the office manager on the fifth floor, an old friend of mine, to track me
down. I called her back and we met up at the small park that backs on to my
building. I had sandwiches and she bought a sub from Subway.
    We ate and chatted our way
through the lunch hour and at the end we kissed and for reasons known only to
Tina she took the opportunity, just before we parted, to squeeze my balls. And
with that she was off. Flustered I was left to return to work fully supporting
the sort of erection that is nigh on impossible to hide. Half an hour later it
was showing no signs of abating and I was struggling to get on with work.
    Now common sense would have had
me pick one of the hundred odd toilet cubicles that litter the building and
relieve myself in secure isolation. Instead I chose a cleaning cupboard on the
twenty eighth floor. To be fair it is a favourite haunt of mine if I want to
grab forty winks mid shift and I have always thought it fairly safe. 
    What I didn’t count on was the
receptionist for Lader & Sons opening the cupboard door and finding me on
my haunches, trousers round my ankles in full flow. I was surprised that she
had a key to the cupboard. She was surprised at just about everything. She
screamed and slammed the door shut and I fell back into the cleaning equipment
behind me.
    She ran to the reception and
informed the first person she met. Unfortunately it turned out to be Mr Lader
himself - a grizzled old man that made his fortune looking down his nose at
people.
    Realising all was not good I
whipped up my trousers, grabbed a bucket, some Flash and a mop. Mr Lader flung
open the door and I went into denial mode. Her word against mine. I had every
right to be in the cupboard after all.
    He asked why I had locked it. I
didn’t have a good answer.
    He asked if this was something I
did on a regular basis. I said yes. He meant masturbating. I meant getting
equipment from the cupboard.
    He called me a pervert. I took
umbrage at this.
    He threatened to report me. I
threatened to call the union.
    He asked why? I didn’t have an
answer to this.
    I tried to leave.
    He demanded an apology. I refused
and we hit stalemate.
    It’s all got a little awkward
since then. For a start the story spread like a virus throughout the building.
I think I can cope with the sniggers, the pointing and the gossip. I’m not sure
I can cope with the wisecracks.
    ‘PULL the other one George.’
    ‘Are you UP to it George?’
    ‘George have you got time for
a SWIFT ONE?’
    ‘George something has come UP.
Could you give me a HAND?’
    To top it all the company that
employs me is sending over an inspector to review my performance next week.
There is not a cat in hell’s chance that the inspector won’t find out about the
incident and when the story gets back to head office I’m dead meat.
    The fire door opens and I step
out, look around and freeze mid step.
    That looks a lot like Charlie
Wiggs being thrown off the top of my roof!
    Why is someone throwing Charlie
Wiggs off my roof?
    Charlie Wiggs. Accountant.
Cheedle, Baker and Nudge. Twentieth floor. Third office on the right. Always
leaves his bin full of barely used Kleenex. Strange choice of person to throw
off the roof I would have thought.
    Why would someone throw Charlie
Wiggs off the roof?

Chapter 5
    The regrets of Simon.
     
    I can’t face it. I need someone
to take a hammer and strike just above my neck - right at the base of my skull.
A clean stroke. Out like a light I’ll go. Deep, blissful, soothing,
nothingness. Right now. Right fucking now. Please if there’s any justice on
this planet.
    Three more aspirin. Make it four
and I’ll get on the road. How many is that today. Eight, nine. I’ve lost