Never had I imagined that I would find myself perched pantyless on the edge of the porcelain sink in a bathroom in my office building — being fucked, to boot.

But a bet’s a bet.

Let me backtrack for a moment. I was at a bar with my friends, and we were playing a drinking game. At some point, the betting took a turn for the outrageous. One of my friends said he would strip naked and play the piano with his dick if he lost. (He won.) Another said she would offer the bartender “Sex on the Beach” — in real life. (She lost. And won.) Then there was me. I’d been wordlessly flirting with the gorgeous window washer at my office building for months. He was as hot as fuck, and I couldn’t get him out of my mind. So I said that. I said I’d do the window washer. Then I failed to land the quarter in my shot glass, and everyone looked at me — shocked and amused.

Of course, the next day sobriety hit me as hard as my hangover. I didn’t think there was a chance anyone else would remember what had been said the night before. They were all pretty toasted. But the first text of the day let me know how wrong I was. No one had forgotten.

“Which day does the window washer ‘come?’” one coworker asked in a group text — complete with a variety of rude emojis.

“All bets are off,” I wrote back.

“Welcher,” typed another.

I couldn’t stand for that. I checked the calendar when I arrived at the office, and as luck would have it, the window washer was due to arrive the next day. So, all I had to do was figure out how to seduce him through the thick plate glass. Would it be hard? Would he?

I wore a leopard-print cardigan to work the next day and a tight-fitting black pencil skirt. All day long, I found myself gazing out the window. What time would he reach my floor? Would I be able to go through with my plan? How would I lure him inside?

“What’s with you?” asked Beth, one of my coworkers who wasn’t privy to my bawdy bet.

I turned pink. “What do you mean?”

“You’re off in the clouds today. I must have seen you gazing out the window at least 10 times.” That was when the pulleys brought the window washer to our floor. I made some excuse about having a lot on my mind, and I ushered Beth out of my office. Then, I locked the door, and I turned to face the washer. I’d heard his name was Joe. I knew he was in his 20s. Someone had told me he was putting himself through college. I didn’t care about any of that. His dark eyes and outrageous arm muscles had won me over. I spun my chair to face the window, and he gave me the smile he always did.

I started to unbutton my sweater.

His smile didn’t fade. Nor did he look shocked or surprised. He simply didn’t move. Not an inch. I worked one button at a time. Then I peeled off the sweater and stood, letting my breasts in their pink lacy bra jut directly at him.

He made a motion for me to continue. I unzipped my skirt and let it fall. I was in a matching bra and panties, and I was staring at my crush. He held up his phone and showed me his number. I moved close enough to read the display, then I dialed him. He answered immediately.

“Sexy girl,” he said. “How are we going to get around these windows?”

“We’re going to make a plan for when you get off,” I said.

He raised his eyebrows at me. I hadn’t realized my pun. That’s when he took his dick out and started to jack it in his hand. I wondered if people in other buildings or offices were watching. But I didn’t care. I jammed my hand into my panties and touched myself as he stroked his cock. I began to rub myself while he took in the sight of me. His hand was a blur on his erection. I shivered and came, and he did the same, shooting his semen all over the window. With a wink, he squeegeed the glass clean.

Then we were staring at each other, and I felt as if I hadn’t remembered to breathe. He was still on the line, so I said, “There’s a bathroom downstairs in the lobby. How long will it take you to get there?”

“I’m on my way,” he replied, working the machinery and disappearing from my view.

I hurried from the office, making excuses to the front staff as I raced out. My sweater wasn’t buttoned right, but so what. My shoes could have been on the wrong feet, and I wouldn’t have cared.

The bathroom I’d mentioned to Joe is at the back of the lobby. It’s a unisex room with a single stall. I got there first and flipped the lock behind me, claiming the space. Joe knocked on the door softly a moment later, and I let him in. We didn’t bother with words. He pulled my skirt to my hips, and I hopped up on the edge of the sink, having left my panties balled up in my desk drawer. Then he was in me with a grunt and a single thrust.

Joe rocked me hard. As I wrapped my legs around him, he told me my window had always been his favorite. I confessed I’d come to many happy fantasies of the two of us coming clean and hooking up. When he climaxed, he slid one hand between us so he could exert the perfect pressure on my clit. I let myself go, being louder than I’d meant to when I came, hoping nobody would figure out what we were doing together.

We hurried to redress after our midday tryst. I asked if he wanted to meet me for drinks on Friday. His grin let me know it was a date.

I thought of the bet I’d made with my friends. I wasn’t planning to announce that I’d made good on my dare. But when they see me on Joe’s arm at happy hour, they’ll figure it out.

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