Office work coming up to Christmas was a nightmare for Carrie. Bodies coming and going, phone ringing hot, receipts piling up and the prospect of facing the festive season alone again.
Far too often she is left alone to run the office, nothing but the radio and her mind for comfort. Running the shop has its perks, plenty of ripped tradies to flirt with during the day and peace and quiet of an afternoon. Towards the end of the day the office is quiet, the sun is blaring outside and the office is slowly warming under the relentless summer sun.
Carrie finds her mind wondering, her skin is prickly and she shuffles uncomfortably in her seat. As it gets warmer and warmer in the office, she can feel sweat building around her groin as she becomes more aware of her increased blood flow, slightly opening her legs she can smell her excitement.
She allows her mind to drift before looking around the office; a slightly guilty look spreads across her face as she remembers she has her small vibrator packed in her hand bag for such an occasion. She stands up, biting her lip as she moves over and locks the front door.
Closing and locking the bathroom door behind her she can feel her heart pumping in her chest, her head is spinning in excitement, she needs this right now. Sliding her panties down her legs, she can feel her juices sticking to the cloth, releasing her sweet womanly aroma, causing her heart to pump harder as she bites down on her lip to prevent a whimper sneaking out.
She slowly slides her middle finger down her naval, snaking its way through her well groomed landing strip, picking up moisture as it goes. Her fingertips touch her sensitive skin covering her clit, a jolt of electricity shoots up her groin, injecting adrenaline straight to her heart as it skips a beat in anticipation.
'DING DONG, DING DONG'
"FUCK -- I am going to kill that delivery driver"
Driving home she was furious! She may have been a little too harsh on the poor postal worker, but when she is revved up like that she does not like to be disappointed. Driving home she passes the new neighbours car, she is yet to meet them since they moved in -- maybe she will get around to introducing herself next week.
Opening the door her cat greets her as usual, lapping through her legs before walking off to the food bowl.
"At least you don't let me down Mittens!"
Wine, left overs and repeats on TV -- the perfect way to unwind after a shit week.
After a little more wine than is probably wise, she gets up to take herself off to the shower. Letting her hair out she admires the way it bobs so neatly around her shoulders, after years of teasing, she has finally come around to love her shiny auburn hair.
Kicking off her shoes she slips her hand behind her back and releases her bra: letting her breasts, heavy after a day at work, to resume their natural position. She has always loved her breasts, running her nails from the outside in she reminisces to the days with her ex where he would kiss her neck and shoulders as they undressed, supporting them neatly in his hands, rolling her large, stiffening nipples between his thump and pointer.