I'm scared to post this. It's unedited but I enjoy this story so I hope you will too. It's for adults so if you're not one don't read it. I told someone I was in a mood and this is the result. Hope you like it.
The Office
I’m sitting in a black swivel chair staring at a blank computer screen. My fingers run idly over the keyboard, absently tick-tick-ticking away. There is a lull in the activity at our little office. The action has slowed, stilled and finally stopped. It’s late in the day and the two of us are alone now. It’s not quite closing time but its close enough that I can start looking forward to being home with a glass of wine, which I desperately need. I feel wound up inside, tight, feeling a vague sense of danger, the kind that comes out of nowhere, the kind that you may or may not expect. I feel as if I have been standing at attention all day waiting on my commanding officer to yell “At Ease!”
This room is so cold. I blow on my hands, hoping to warm them up. My nipples respond to the frigid air, firming up into tight buds that are vaguely uncomfortable. I focus on the tendrils of pleasure /pain that come from my nipples. It’s only mildly distracting. Nothing is strong enough to make me forget that he is there, just a few steps away.
Damn it’s really cold in here! My fingers, my feet, my bare arms, are cool. My bare legs, protected from the coolness by my desk, are comfortable. I place my hands close to my inner thigh hoping to warm them. I rub my fingers over the lushness of my thighs. My thighs are so, so soft. The sensation of opposites, the cold fingers over the warm thighs, is arousing. My hands sink further into the softness of my thighs. They are supple, so pliable like bread dough. I move my hands closer to the heat between my legs, up up up by slow degrees. I’m not so cold anymore but I still feel the tension, tight and high strung. I know that I want to have an orgasm. I need to have an orgasm.
I could move my hands up further up my skirt. Touch myself just enough and make myself cum. He would never know. My body is hidden behind my desk. He can’t see me. I just want to feel normal again, to remove this tension. If I touch myself just there, just right, I could make myself orgasm. A few more inches upward and I am closer. It’s warmer up here. Wetter too. I take three deep breaths. I rub myself through my panties. Sparks burst forth. Already I feel myself slipping, floating. My heartbeat accelerates. Am I brave enough to do this? He may not be able to see me. But what if he can smell me? The smell of sex is distinctive, and it lingers. He will smell my cum. I make a decision to just lightly touch my clit, just tease myself enough that when I get home, fuck it, when I get in my car, any place private, I can get off.
My fist is completely up my skirt, brushing the moist center of my panties, when my boss walks out. I freeze and plaster a bright, professional smile on my face. I am afraid that he knows, that he has watched me from his office door and he knows what I’m here trying to do. “I’m on my way to the bank. I’ll be back in a while”. He breezes out the door. He is, as usual, oblivious to me, to anything concerning me. I am nothing but the help as far as he is concerned. I want him to notice me, I want to fuck him. This thought almost dims my arousal, almost.
It’s after 3 pm. No one comes in this late. And it’s raining. I unbutton the first three buttons of my shirts, exposing my lacy black bra and the tops of my breasts. I have warmed up considerably. I decide to continue. Things are private now. He has gone and taken the rest of my inhibitions with him. If I were honest with myself I would admit that he is the source of this frustration. He is my tension and my arousal. Maybe when I finally slide my fingers inside myself I’ll close my eyes and imagine his face. But for now he is gone and he has taken my inhibitions with him.
I pull my bra down, exposing one chocolate nipple to the kiss of the cool air. There, I think, that feels good. All of a sudden I am impatient, combustible, explosive. I move my hand back up my skirt. He could be back soon. I touch the front of my wet panties. I hook two fingers around the back of my panties and pull them to the side, exposing my clit and my cum to the air. My fingers slide between my lips. They glide through the wetness, slippery and slick. I use my thumb to rub my clit round and round. I slide three fingers inside me. Oh God! This is just what I needed. It feels so good. I close my eyes, the better to savor the sensation. I know just how much pressure I need, how deep I need to go, how fast I need to rub. I move my hips to the rhythm I set.
My chest tightens up. My heart beats faster. My breathing changes, catches in my throat. I feel my pussy pull, as elemental as gravity. The wetness slurps loudly. My pussy is talking to me and I can hear it. My mouth opens, preparing the sounds. My God, I feel it! I feel you. My walls suck my streaming fingers in, wrap around them, imprisoning me inside. The waves break and it is beyond bliss. When I come it is powerful. My orgasm has rendered me speechless. I am unable to make any sound.
It takes me a few moments to drift back. I am boneless, nearly liquid, completely satiated. My tension, my frustration has been obliterated by an ancient power, a stronger energy. Slowly I remember my surroundings. I fix my bra and button my shirt. I adjust my skirt. My face is composed, serene, politely distant. My orgasm has restored me.
When he walks through the door minutes later I flash my bright, professional receptionist’s smile. Everything looks exactly the same as when he left. “I got back quicker than I expected” he says, as he breezes back through the door. Halfway into his office he stops and turns back toward me. He cocks his head to the side. I see him subtly sniff the air. I watch his face change, reassessing the situation, feeling the energy. He walks back into his office. A few seconds later he peeks his head around the corner. “You look different today”, he says. I smile as he disappears around the back into his office. For once he is not oblivious.
The end
