A faint buzzing from her purse alerted Grey to an incoming text. She quickly dug her phone out and smiled on seeing his number. In the three days since she'd passed the First Gate he'd sent three or four text messages each day - pleasant greetings and intimate reminders that she was fresh in his mind as he went about his work. She still hadn't assigned an alias to his phone number on her cell phone, preferring to wait until she learned his true name.
His texts didn't diminish the yearning she felt for their nightly chats. If anything they served to whet her appetite for that treasured few hours that had quickly become the sweetest part of her otherwise unsatisfying day.
She glanced furtively around the half-full bus to confirm that she had enough privacy to enjoy the text, then opened it.
Good morning, my kitten. I'm at work and thinking of you already. Tell me what you're wearing.
She knew how she must look as she grinned warmly at her cell phone, and she didn't care. His texts filled her with a giddy heat. She carefully tapped a response in the touchscreen.
Good morning Sir. I thought of you the moment I opened my eyes this morning. Wearing a gray skirt / white blouse and open-toe heels.
She sent the text, then quickly added a follow up.
Underneath that, black panties and a lacy white bra.
There was a pause after she sent the second text and Grey felt pleased with herself - the 50 lines she had written the other night hadn't been a waste. She was starting to get the hang of Complete Truth at last!
I bet you look great! When you get to work please remove your panties until tonight. Bare under your skirt today, kitten.
She flushed and her heart hammered in her chest as she considered his instructions. This was something new - he frequently had her in various states of undress during their nightly chats in the privacy of her room, but never at work. To be without panties in public, let alone among co-workers, sounded so indecent.
She felt a fleeting inclination to refuse or to disobey but it was quickly brushed aside by the much stronger desire to please him. More and more it felt natural and comfortable to do as he directed. Was that due to the easy, gentle way he expressed his dominance? Or was her submissive side gaining in confidence and trust?
Yes Sir. I'll stop in the washroom first thing.
Good girl. I'll check in on you this afternoon. Can't wait for tonight!
Same here! You're in my mind all day. xoxoxo
****
By 10:30am, Grey knew she was in trouble.
It started at 8:35, the moment she stepped out of the washroom with her panties tucked away at the bottom of her purse. The walk to her desk was a non-stop reminder that her slit was uncovered under her skirt. Each step caused currents of air to flow over her nether lips in a gentle caress. The light linen of the skirt brushed against her wispy pubic hair and rubbed against the cheeks of her rear end. Her ass, pussy and thighs were awash in teasing, subtle, constant stimulation.
More than the distracting physical sensations, being panty-less occupied her mind. Around her coworkers she felt naked. Small movements of her skirt triggered flashes of naughty pleasure and brought a pink flush to her cheeks. She stammered and tripped over her words.
The most arousing aspect of being nude under the skirt was that she was doing it for HIM. For her online lover. At his command. For his pleasure. The idea that he'd gained the power to undress her at his whim - it filled Grey with a powerful and persistent lust.
And that was the source of her trouble.
Her pussy was hot and leaking arousal. She could feel the wetness as the skirt fanned air onto her swollen cunt lips. If she sat for even a few moments her juices made an obvious wet spot on the back of her gray skirt. She tried to stand as much as possible, but standing allowed the skirt to move about and it drove her heat even higher. The scent of her lust was thick in her cubicle - could everyone smell it, or just her? Her face was flushed with arousal and embarrassment. She needed to get help!
She grabbed her purse and fled to the bathroom. Locking herself in a stall, she tapped a message on her cell phone.
May I make a request, Sir?
She sat on the commode with her skirt hiked out of the way. With her slit fully exposed, the scent was strong and heady and sweet. Her slit felt swollen and heavy; it ached with need. Grey longed to stroke her clit with her fingertips - all that stopped her was the knowledge that her moans might be heard outside the door.
Her phone buzzed and she almost gasped in relief.
You can always ask, kitten. What's on your mind?
Could I please put my panties back on, Sir?
Tell me why you want them back on.
She burned with embarrassment as she forced herself to reply with the Complete Truth.
Going without panties is VERY arousing. I'm leaking and messing the back of my skirt.
I suppose I might allow it. But there will be a price. Are you willing to pay it, kitten?
Her heart thundered and she felt her cunt spasm as she considered what that price might be. The heat she felt was causing her to perspire; she felt feverish.
Yes Sir, please! I'll never make it through the day at this rate.
Where are you now?
I'm in the washroom, Sir. In a stall.
Sit with your legs wide apart, kitten. As wide as you can spread them comfortably.
Done Sir.
Wet your finger and slide it over your clit in small circles. Just a light, feather touch.
Yes Sir.
Don't rub hard. Just light, barely-there touches.
Ok Sir.
And you may not have an orgasm, kitten. That's for later...
Grey bit her tongue to stifle a moan. She fought to keep her touch light, fought the urge to bring herself to a quick and desperately-needed climax. Even the faint touches to her hungry clit were sending delicious shivers and shocks and pulses of pleasure through her core.
Her breathing came deep and fast. She lost track of time and place, forgetting her work and her surroundings. Eyes closed, index finger teasing and tormenting on the command of her lover, she lost herself in the urgent need building inside her.
And then she was at her limit, where even the lightest brush of her finger threatened to push her over the edge into orgasm. With a shaking left hand, she struggled with the phone touchscreen.
I'm so close Sir.
I think you can work a little harder for me, kitten. Keep stroking. Don't you dare cum!
Yes Sir.
Obediently she continued to stroke, her skillful fingers warring with her self-control. Even as she rubbed slippery fingers over her clit, she groaned and battled the rising orgasm inside her. For long minutes she teetered on the brink of orgasm.
Stop stroking now, kitten.
