This story is a continuation of I'm Dating Our Mailgirl. The 1st 10 chapters of that story should be read first for context. All characters are 18 or older and are completely fictitious as is Seahawk Industries. Any resemblance to anyone living or dead is purely coincidental and unintentional.
MAKING UP FOR NEGLECTING 9
I felt bad for 9 since I had spent all weekend with Joyce and I had completely neglected 9. I knew I had to see 9. I needed to make up to her for what I'm sure was her realization that I had neglected her this past weekend. At 7:45 I went to the mailgirl outside entrance to the locker room. When she showed up all I got was a cold, "Hello." No, "I'm glad to see you", "I've missed you", "How are you". Certainly no kiss or caress.
"Let's go out," I commanded her.
"Are you sure you aren't too busy?"
"Come on, 9. You know I'm being pulled in too many directions. Tonight I want you to pull me to you."
"Fine, take me to the Blush & Blu."
"That actually sounds like a lot of fun. I'm a little funky. I haven't had a shower since last night. I've started keeping an extra outfit or two in my office so I have something clean to wear." The thought of using Joyce's shower occurred to me, but I thought that might be taking a risk since I didn't have her permission. Besides, I figured her office would probably be locked. "I can take a shower at the warehouse."
9 told me, "No. I want you to take it here."
"In the fishbowl?"
"Sure, I take two showers a day here."
I had to admit the idea intrigued me. But I didn't want 9 to know that I was anything less than outraged by her suggestion.
"I can't shower in there. I'm not a mailgirl."
"Not being a mailgirl didn't stop you from sleeping with me in the double bed in the warehouse. Twice! It didn't stop you from walking naked through the lobby out the building to the warehouse. It didn't stop you from getting loaded up on estrogen in generous servings of gruel. It didn't stop you from having you asshole rimmed by 11."
9 made a convincing case. I was glad she was so persuasive, but I tried to fake agreeing reluctantly. I guess I was somewhat persuasive since 9 felt she had to continue giving me arguments why I should do it.
"Monica, you were the first and even now you are the only non-mailgirl friend I have in the company. All the girls like you. Why do you think you have been accepted by us so openly. We love how you become one of us as you shower in the warehouse, how you sleep not just with me but with our, uh, chaperones in the big bed. How you allow yourself to be naked as you walk through the lobby, to be collared and leashed as you are escorted to the warehouse. This is just the next symbol of your identifying with us and our fate."
I continued to question her. "What if I get caught?"
"Everyone has left for the day except 3 and the earliest she will show up will be 9:45." 3 had permanent duty until 10:00 PM each night. "There's nothing going on on the 42 floor tonight, so no one is working up there."
"Alright, you go ahead and take your evening shower, then we'll go back to my office to get my clubbing outfit."
I was particularly aroused by watching 9 shower. Not only had I not seen her for a few days, but I was thinking about taking my shower there shortly, even though it would be without an audience. When she finished with her shower, she came out and we went up to my office.
I removed all my clothes in my office. Even though they needed to go home to be cleaned, I could get them tomorrow. 9 and I walked naked, hand in hand back to the mailgirl locker room. I asked her, "Are you going to join me?"
"You need an audience. I'll watch you from the other side of the mirror." As she said that, the imagery caused the estrogen in my system to kick into high gear. I was afraid I was going to gush right there on the spot. I put my hand in front of my cunt in case I needed to catch any spouting pussy juice. Fortunately, in term of hygiene, it was unnecessary, but it was unfortunate in that I was hanging on the cliff of ecstatic orgasm and I needed to seek relief. I handed 9 my dress to hold for me until I was through with the shower.
I walked into the locker room and then made a grand entrance into the shower room. I still had my hand in front of my cunt but I realized I was going to have to stimulate myself. I smiled at 9, or rather where I imagined she would be. I looked up and all I saw was my reflection in the mirror. The reality of what 9 and the other mailgirls go through struck me. Here I was in the most public forum in the building and yet the image of my naked self reflecting back on me from the mirror gave me a sense of claustrophobia. That image pushed me even closer to the edge of the cliff. I inserted my fingers. I was so stimulated that just by doing that I shot forth the biggest stream of pussy juice I had ever ejaculated. I was weak in the knees but I managed to stay on my feet. I reinserted my fingers for another round.
Then I heard the door between the dressing room and the shower room open. Two custodians, male, came in. I couldn't have stopped myself from masturbating even if I had wanted to, which I didn't. They seemed to be ignoring me, but they did manage to get an eyeful. I guess they weren't expecting anyone to be in the shower. They mopped the area, then they went over to collect the stock pot of gruel. By this time, I had regained my composure enough that I shouted, "Wait! Let me get some gruel." I stuck a spork I found on the floor into the mixture and took two spoonsful. But I wasn't getting enough. I stuck my hands in and brought up two handsful and buried my face in the mixture. I would need to wash my face again.
"What are you doing in here, Ms. Monica?" Good grief, they know my name.
"I needed a shower and this was the most convenient place to take one." They seemed to buy that. I finished my shower then I went out to ask 9 how she enjoyed the show. She was not along. A man and a woman were there with her, and Frank the security guard.
"Hey, Monica," said the man. I didn't recognize either one of them, but he certainly knew who I was. "This is Morgan. She just started here today in workforce management. I wanted to show her the fishbowl. We weren't expecting to get a show." My being naked was becoming second nature to me, and I actually stood there talking to my heretofore audience as if nothing unusual was going on.