Finally

The embarrassment of the previous act did not return. Instead a sense of confusion and satiation mixed together. As I continued to try and catch my breath I realized I had lost time. A quick glance and I realized I was past my allotted time. I was in no rush though and took the time to revel in the feeling of the urge being gone. It often felt like I was just constantly in turmoil. My sexual need was never at bay and I was often drowning.

When I got back to work several employees seemed to notice a change in my attitude. I had a bit of pep in my step as was told. I hadn't realized but once I was told, I indeed felt good. Almost bold. I just kept replaying it in my head. I had actually done it. It still felt taboo but it also had felt...fucking good. A desire to have more reared its head and like the engine to his truck I felt it roar to life.

I wanted more.

I had the kind of drive home where your body goes on autopilot and you don't know how you got to wherever you were going. When I opened my front door the dogs were gleeful to my homecoming. It returned me briefly to the present. I did my routine but instead of going to Netflix I turned on my tablet and decided to pursue the internet a bit.

I liked to occasionally chat with random people when I am horny, but I had not done so in some time as it had lost some of it's allure. The men or supposed "men" for the most part just asked for nudes. And that offered no respite. Sometimes they would do a little dirty talk but many just didn't know how...or didn't really want to. Men being typically physical and visual beings, it left a lot of women wanton.

There were plenty of other avenues to blow off some steam though. Things to read and view for your pleasure. At this time I found a very specific point I wanted. I was searching for experiences of voyeurism. There was a wide variety from personal to impersonal. I devoured it.

By the time I went to bed it was in the early hours of the morning. I had been inserting myself into the realities of others, except replacing myself and him within. I wanted to see him again. I wanted to see just how far I would take it. How far would he let it go? I had also been envisioning how I would take the initiative. Would I just wait for him in my car to make an appearance again? Or would I try to find him?

The decision would be taken out of my hands. Or so I told myself.

***

The phone rang. The excitement I had felt since the beginning was still there if not stronger. I turned off my vibrator. I picked up the phone and heard his strong voice breach the length waves between us.

"How are you doing?" he said.

"I am okay. The rain hasn't stopped since you left. Every evening it has been pouring" I responded.

"It has rained here as well off and on."

His voice brought my need to the forefront and I found a sigh escaping my lips. He heard it as well.

"Is that a sigh of pleasure or pain?" he had dropped his voice an octave deeper.

"How about frustration? I have been unable to do anything" I pouted in a false falsetto.

"I gave you permission."

He knew me well enough at this point to know I enjoyed this. He knew at times I was unable to achieve orgasm on my own. And he thoroughly enjoyed doing what was about to come. And that could be a play of words that rang true.

"I can't. I have tried twice today. I just really wish you were here" letting my voice purr my dissatisfaction at the moment.

I heard him adjust slightly. It sounded like he settled into whichever hotel bed he was in tonight.

"One of those days, huh? Your sweet little pussy just can't get what it needs?"

His words were sending direct strikes of arousal to my center. I groaned a soft unintelligible reply. I wanted more. Always more.

"Tell me what it needs," his voice was soft with command.

I didn't respond. My fingers were playing a soft dance upon myself. Brushes against my in tune skin. I heard his disapproval without a word said. It thrilled me as much as it did him.

"I said tell me what that dripping wet cunt needs."

I whined against the phone squeezing my thighs tight as a pang came. It rippled through my breast like a heat flash.

"If you don't respond, I am going to make this very difficult for you," he said, sounding unamused.

"You! I need you Sir."

I rushed the words still feeling that moment every time of hesitation before the relief of response.

"You need what?" he prompted. I knew what he was expecting but I wanted to draw it out. I enjoyed and needed this.

"I need your cock. Sir, I have been wanting you all day." I could see him in my mind, knowing the look he was wearing right now.

"Touch yourself. The command given I turned on my vibrator and the sound filled the moment of silence. "That's it. Rub it softly on that aching clit."

I did as instructed, lightly grazing the toy over the engorged nub. Earlier, I had almost rubbed it raw so it was more exposed than it normally would be, swollen from the attention.

As I held the phone I heard his breath hitch and wondered, was he touching himself as I was?

"Set the phone down and put it on speaker. Take your other hand and just tease where you want my hard cock."

I fulfilled this narrative as I suddenly came to be right on the edge. I moaned in pleasure. He was bringing my mind with my body, taking me to where I was almost desperate to be.

"Do not penetrate yourself! You are not to cum until I say so. If you want it, you better ask for it." He was firm and I knew what he wanted. He wanted me to beg. He needed it.

I grunted in continued feigned disappointment.

"You are going to do as I say, or there will be repercussions in the future."

I was almost there, so close to orgasm, my body was quivering.

I was barely able to utter, "Yes Sir."

Knowing how close I was by the sounds I was now making he continued to direct me to the precipice.

"Apply it directly to your clit and don't stop till I say so. What do you need?" his voice echoed my arousal.

"I want to cum Sir. Please let me cum," I was panting in full fledged heat. "...Please Sir...please!"

"I don't think you want it enough", he teased.

"Please...Sir. Please...I am..............so close...." I was almost breathless. He uttered a final word.

"Cum".

The release was powerful and just what I needed. I still wanted him, but the consuming desire had abated. I momentarily forgot he was still on the phone.

"Better? Or do you need more? Because if I was there you would be getting more whether you asked or not."

And I knew he would. He had done it quite a few times and he was so damn good at it.

"Better."

"Your day was bad. Was it that co-worker again?" he said.

I ignored his question, answering with a question of my own, "When will you be home?"

"Soon, we have a few more miles to go."

I tried to make my pout visible through the phone. I would just have to continue to fantasize about him just like I had before; except now I no longer had to imagine but except to review memories. But fantasy is what it would begin with.

***

I would go to work for over a week without seeing him again. By the third day I was mad. Mad at myself again and mad at a stranger! I became a little stalkerish. On my lunch breaks I sat and watched the few people walk in and out of the building connected to the lot but no one of semblance. By the week's time I had become a stalker. Checking every morning and night for something to appear but it was almost as if he was a figment of my imagination.

I had not masturbated this much in a long time. Outside my usual once a day I was doing it several times a day and multiple in a row. It had sparked a hungry fury within. I fantasized about what he would do next. I dreamt about what I would do. I imagined him taking me from the front and behind, in public and private. Of being tied up or made to please him and more.

In reality I pondered what I would do next. This interaction had brought forth a familiar pang as time continued to pass. It also played hard with my response to the situation. A part of me began to feel the shame build, and another let the arousal continue. I had basically done what could be considered a distasteful act by some. Might even be called whorish. But a few solitary years ago that is exactly what I had been accused of.

***

My parents never spoke to me about "the bird and the bees". As a child when it came to having that talk at school with my peers, I was the only one who did not have a parent sign the paperwork to allow me to attend these moments of education. Instead I was forced to sit outside my classroom alone doing "class work" I had been assigned.

When I was allowed reentry to the room I was insistently made fun of and instead had a regurgitated version spewed to me from the children around me. It made a normal act into a taboo subject that was to not ever be breached by my parents even into teenage years. So instead I searched for more as any curious child would and my access would be books. This was before the world wide web and easy access to any piece of information in need. So that meant the library.

Those books would be the typical romance books with sultry maids and shirtless men upon their book flaps and covers. I don't recall the book's title but I had somehow acquired a book that was beyond vanilla at school. I don't remember the words I had read because instead a powerful emotion of pain emits instead. All that remained of the printed pages and binding was the bright pink color it had around the figures draped upon it. I can clearly see the look of rage upon my mothers face as she slaps me with it.

I would take a beating that would leave it painful to sit for many days. Afterwards I was forced to stand in the corner of the living room until late into the night, past a regular child's bedtime. Past midnight the tears long crusted upon my cheeks, I shifted uncomfortably on sore feet. I tried to not fall asleep standing up but the dirty white walls greeted me like a long lost friend. I didn't realize until my head was forcibly slammed into the wall, my teeth slicing through my bottom lip, that I had fallen asleep.

***

The next time I finally saw him was when I had almost given up and quit my stalkerish ways. As I had been getting ready to leave I thought I had spotted the truck. I got in my car and drove into their lot from the main street. I put my car into 1st and slowly paced myself though the few vehicles to stop in front of the suspected truck. There were a lot of trucks in this lot all the time so I couldn't be sure but it hadn't been here the previous days.

I decided to park a few spots away with my engine running that allowed me to view anyone approaching the truck. I didn't have to wait long. A work truck, with mud along it's tires and grill, pulled in and stopped at the building. A group full of mainly men piled out. A few still had their hard hats and vests on. I immediately honed into him, the third guy out. It had to be him. The beard and facial shape looked the same.

I for some reason felt the urge to duck or slide down my seat in cover, though he was completely unaware of my presence. They entered the building in a mob and my mind began to race. What the fuck was I doing? What was I about to do? What could I do? My palms were sweating so bad suddenly that I wiped them on my jeans, at the same time licking my suddenly parched lips.

A few moments later he came out with another gentleman and woman. Both appeared to be co-workers. They were walking together to his truck I realized. The truck that I had strategically parked behind suddenly began to roll away and it suddenly completely exposed me to their view. I saw the moment he recognized my car. We were close enough this time for me to see the facial expression without seeing the color of his eyes still. My breath hitched and I froze. Without much thought but a knee jerk reaction I threw my car into reverse, throwing my hand over the passenger seat. I felt like I was in one of the Fast and Furious movies and in the getaway car. I didn't quite burn rubber but I drew the attention of the group by the looks in the rearview mirror.

What an idiot? I paced back and forth in my bedroom with River and Whiskey's eyes following me anxiously. I couldn't help it. I made a complete fool of myself. What could he be thinking!

That I was an idiot. I yanked my hair and did a rumbling growl at myself as I threw myself horizontal on my bed. I felt Whiskey's wet noise shove itself into my upturned palm. I turned my head to the side to look at him and saw his tail wagging and those eyes dogs give to their human that almost makes them irresistible. I rolled over and patted the bed. The sound was enough, both dogs jumping eagerly onto my covers to push their warm bodies against me while their tails thumped heavily.

I actually went to sleep without touching myself but it was a light and uneven rest. I woke up feeling my eyes puffy and that feeling in my neck that almost felt like a nerve was pinched, or an unease in the muscle. I slowly dragged myself out of bed to do the morning routine. The regret from yesterday's stupidity was a reminder to stress for the day.

I would get a shock to go along with all of that as well. I ignored everything as I parked my car, determined to move forward with my day. But as I got out of my car and looked at the entrance doors I felt my gut drop. He was just standing there with his arms folded slightly over his chest, legs wide and in control. He was staring directly at me. Once again his face was unreadable.

The soles of my work boots dragged the asphalt making a scuffle sound. I felt myself turning sheepish and wanting to turn myself inside out, to as small as possible with no luck. It felt almost like I was about to be chided like a child for some reason. I cast my eyes downward. I wanted to run away again. But I couldn't. Just mere feet away I finally looked up and somehow directly made eye contact.