It was 7:00 in the morning, and my fingertips tapped against the porcelain vanity in my bathroom, impatiently waiting for the flatiron to heat up so that I may finish getting ready for work. Today was a typical Monday; the start to a long and often miserable week at my place of employment. It was to the point where I absolutely dreaded going in, and wished throughout the day I was someplace else. As I stood and stared blankly at my reflection in the mirror, I seriously contemplated calling out of work. It's pretty pathetic when you hate your job that much; that you would take an unpaid day off just to avoid another minute of this cruel and unusual punishment. My conscious got the better of me, however, and I decided to suck it up and drag my sorry-ass into work. Maybe I can entertain myself long enough so that the day will fly by. One could only hope.
I arrived at work shortly after 8:15, and gave my halfhearted hello's to the other employees heading to their departments. The elevator ride up the few floors of the building was quiet and uneventful, which gave me time to think about today's agenda. The same old boring routine was anxiously waiting for me at my desk, and everything within me screamed to run in the other direction. How I wish I could've just ran away. When the elevator doors opened, I made my way to the department, found my place at my desk, and started with the mundane tasks of my menial job.
Hours passed, work continued to pile up even though I thought I was making good progress, and I was in serious need of a break. My eyes were sore from looking at the computer, and I could feel a migraine spreading quickly. Lowering my head, I closed my eyes and let my auburn locks fall around my face. In hopes for relief from the tight muscles in my neck, I reached up with both hands and placed them on my skin, needing the coolness to bring comfort. It did nothing. I was now desperate to take my mind off the pain, and figured a quick walk or trip to the bathroom would do the trick.
As I made my way down the hallway to the ladies room, I happily bumped into a colleague that I shared a close friendship with. Apparently he needed a break too, and was in visible discomfort, as his hand was up rubbing at his shoulder; something he often did. We exchanged a few words, a couple of laughs, and then parted ways into our gender-specific bathrooms. Once inside, I made my way to the furthest stall (the one against the wall) and locked the door behind me. I'm not quite sure why I always preferred this one over the other two that were in the bathroom. I suppose I felt it was more secluded than the other ones; that this stall would give me more privacy - privacy I now desperately needed.
Seeing my coworker in the hallway sparked up a feeling usually mildly felt when in his company. Yet this time, it was almost instant that a heat radiated from the most tender regions of my form. Now surrounded by the partial privacy of the bathroom stall, I was able to address the feeling he often gave, and get my mind off of the lingering migraine that threatened to ruin my day. Slowly, I lifted the hem of my skirt so that it loosely wrapped around my waist, exposing the black lace panties that were a favorite of mine. One hand held up the skirt so that it wouldn't get ruined, while the other began my favorite activity - caressing the swollen, aching lips of my pussy.
Unlike many women I have spoken with, I am quite fond of masturbating, and have no reservations at admitting my passion. While I mostly play in the comfort of my home, there are times when I just couldn't take another minute, and had to release the pent up 'frustrations' at work, at school, wherever. Today was proving to be one of those days. So, I leaned back against the wall, one hand holding up my skirt, and the other caressing my now quite moist sex.
I began to get really into this session, and closed my eyes to relax and increase the pleasure I was giving myself. This induced thoughts that caused my knees to buckle and thighs to shake. I imagined that my dear coworker had followed me into the ladies room, then into my favorite stall, and watched me finger my glistening cunt to thoughts of him. What if he were to reach out and touch my sex; follow the massaging motions of my fingertips as they danced over my clit and the precious nub of pleasure hidden within? Would he like the way my juices coated his fingertips? Would he part my thighs even more so that he could shove one....two...maybe three fingers deep into my hot and wanting core? Or would he unzip his work slacks, remove his raging cock and fuck me in our confined space? These thoughts brought me to climax quicker than I had imagined, and as I wildly fucked my tight little twat with my fingers, my juices seeped out and covered my hand. I gasped for breath, as my body shook with powerful convulsions, and smiled from ear to ear. It felt so good; at least this little escape would brighten my day for a little while.
After I cleaned up and made myself look a little more presentable, I leaned against the wall of the bathroom in front of the vanity. What had I just done? Masturbated to the thought of someone I work with, let alone over twice my age, in the work bathroom. I have been aroused by him before, but never to this extent. Replaying the actions in my head again, caused my sex to clench and release again. Shit... I was getting wet again. I needed to get some fresh air, maybe the cool breeze outside would get me out of this aroused state I was in. I gave myself another quick look in the mirror, then left the ladies room and headed downstairs. The elevator had a few people in line waiting to get in, and I was concerned that they might smell my arousal in the confined area, so I decided to take the stairs. This proved to be an unwise decision. Each movement down the cement steps caused my dampened panties to rub against my swollen and still unsatisfied clit, which only furthered the angst I felt in that region. It was like pleasure and torture with each step, and I had two flights to go! Hoping that a distraction would at least get me through the stair fiasco, I began to hum a little tune to myself. I suppose I'd try anything at this point.
Finally, after what seemed like more than too many steps, I made it to the lobby and headed outside. With a long deep inhale, I breathed in the cool winter air, and closed my eyes. This helped. The spring air was cold enough to send a shiver through my body which took a huge slice out of my state of arousal. Being able to get a breath of fresh air cleared my mind, as well, and brought be back down from the orgasmic-high that just occurred. I'll have to remember this trick for next time.
Next time? Next time??? Oh goodness, I hope I don't make a routine of this. Another shiver ran through me, and I decided to head inside again. When I did, the receptionist in the lobby questioned if a package she received was for my department. A quick look inside the envelope determined it wasn't ours, but belonged to my dear coworker's department. Great. Just as my arousal subsided, I would need to go and tease myself again in his company. I inhaled deep, and clenched my jaw, determined not to let myself get worked up again. As I made my way towards his office, I passed by a few other employees and attempted to smile pleasantly to them. Oh how I hate working here.
I reached the door to his office, and quietly knocked twice before peeking my head through. He sat there, eyes fixated intently on the computer before him, and office dark as it usually was. My insides clenched once more in warning I was about to become increasingly wet. I'm not sure if I made up words or not, but a string of profanities directed towards myself spewed in my thoughts as if a southern trucker was having an argument with a drunken Scotsman. I assume my face twisted in anger as my mind scolded me, because he turned and looked at me at that very moment with concern painted on his face.
