Sexual Harassment Training

I’d just got to work, and I was just finishing writing my journal on my phone that I’d been writing on the tram, when Declan arrived. I’d switched on my computer and I was still standing, as I was about to go and get coffee. He started taking off his motorbike gear, which he does every morning. I switched my phone over to camera, it was already on mute. I was still standing up, so I got the framing easily. It just looked like I was checking messages, or something. He pulled up his top and his t-shirt underneath rode up. I pushed the button on my camera and got good shots of his taught bare torso. The timing was good, more luck than anything else. Bad me? I know.

Cute Declan. He looks half Italian and half Vietnamese and he’s as cute as anything. He’s little and he’s handsome and he has a hot arse and you could just bend him over and fuck him so easily. He might squirm, but that would just add to the thrill, of it.

I had induction, starting at 9am. It came up on my calendar, I didn’t know until that moment. Really, I thought? Again. I know it has to do with their legal liability, but really, do we have to do it over and over again. There were four of us, all new. We had to do sexual harassment training. Companies are frightened of being sued, more than they care for any of their staff. Funny, I thought of the near naked shots I took of Declan barely an hour before.