The "Impact" series began as a collaboration with ButteredCrumpet who posted our original versions* as "Impact of Collision".
For those who pay attention to such things: When Sarah is alone the story is in the past tense. When Claire and Sarah are together the story is in present tense.
Special thanks to HaltWhoGoesThere for proof reading this chapter - repeatedly.
Impact of Collusion
I was lying in bed, my panties soaked, in a cold puddle of my own making, the wisps of a dream already drifting out of reach. It was still way too early. I'd woken up touching myself and cumming hard enough to make my back cramp and seize.
'What did I call out?' I wondered.
I'd never masturbated in my sleep before. I'd still been so turned on I couldn't help touching myself again. I struggled to recall the dream. Bits popped into my head, of watching or being watched? Of paintings and... kneeling behind... Claire? She had pressed her face against a wall...
I was pushing my fingers over my hard clit, enjoying the deliciously greasy wet feel when I remembered the movie - and the dream came rushing back. The gallery, her date watching, Claire baring her ass... the feel of her round cheeks in my hands, licking her. from behind.
"Jesus!"
I stopped myself. Wiped my hand on my belly.
'Bad movies and pent-up frustration,' I told myself as I hopped out of bed. 'It's just been too long.'
As strange and disturbing as it was, I was able to shake it off.
My Sunday was otherwise uneventful, a phone call with my mom, brunch with my friends Darci and Kwasi in Fort Greene at a place inside an old liquor store. I stopped for eggplant and other fresh veggies before heading back to the food desert that is Midtown and then cooked a big briami for the week while cleaning my apartment.
'You're a hell-raiser, Sarah Beth,' I told myself as I folded my laundry.
I went to bed that night still feeling wound up and frisky. I pushed down my panties and kicked them off, spread my legs, and began to touch myself. I fantasized about being fucked outside, about being watched, of being fucked bent over the back of a car in front of passing traffic. All the hits. Nothing worked. I tried fantasizing about sucking Danny off. I even pictured sucking William's perfectly hairless balls and penis - but if anything, that had the opposite effect. I found my imagination drifting to the ladies' room at work, of being caught - a variation on a fantasy I've had since high school - but being scolded and made to finish by an older woman was dangerously close to the dream.
I finally gave up, so frustrated I thought I might cry.
I was happy to get back to work Monday. I showed up almost an hour early. Spent the time going through my hard drive and clearing junk off my desktop. By the time my boss Keith and coworker Ben arrived, I was cleaning the office. It was time well spent. Turns out we were on deadline with a week's worth of long late nights ahead of us. I was happy for the pressure, it made my week go by fast.
I had thought about Claire on and off, our funny and friendly real life interactions, and considered calling her or dropping by the gallery. I thought about seeing if she wanted to meet for dinner or catch a show.
The Go! Team
was playing the Bowery, I wondered if she'd like them; tried to picture her jumping around in that crowd. I couldn't really see it.
I invited Darci and Kwasi instead, but they already had plans. I thought about inviting Kip from work, but as much as I hoped he'd come, I knew he'd already have something ten times more fabulous planned. In the end I chickened out and didn't go.
Before I knew it, it was Friday again. We'd finished the off-site I'd been working to prepare for all week. It was for staff from a bunch of other departments and was exciting. I got to present some of the work I'd done with Keith as well as some of the work I'd done on my own before I started at the Times. There were a couple glitches, but nothing major went wrong, and Keith congratulated me, saying he thought it went really well overall. It had already been a long day, and I felt spent but there was an obligatory dinner and drinks afterwards, making it even longer.
They took us to a steak place in TriBeCa. I'm a vegetarian, so while everyone else gorged, I picked massive sizzling cubes of lardon off an iceberg wedge, despite having told the waiter I'm a vegetarian. And while the crowd was friendly, they were mostly a decade or two older. As far as Friday nights go, I really wasn't feeling it. But for Keith's sake I wanted to be polite so I continued on to a bar nearby with the group for a couple more drinks.
The atmosphere at the bar was much more relaxed, everyone started to loosen up a bit with a few drinks under their belts. Kip was there, so I was having a great time until he abandoned me to chat up a beautiful young guy from the Business section and one of the guys from the Real Estate section began to hover. Suddenly I was really looking forward to going home.
I was psyching myself up to tell Keith I was going to leave, when I saw Claire arrive with a group of women. My heart jumped at the sight of her, but I also had the urge to hide. I didn't have to though, she was facing the wrong way. I watched her through breaks in the crowd as she and her friends moved towards an open booth. She looked a bit out of place. The other girls were pretty, but looked... bridge-and-tunnel.
It was a bachelorette party. They were super rowdy and one of the women wore a tell-tale plastic tiara. Claire wasn't rowdy like the rest, but she looked like she was having a good time. Again I was struck by her beauty. She was a lovely woman. Her friends were pretty, but Claire, with her long blonde hair pulled back tight and her tall lean yoga-figure stood out like a swan amongst geese. I wondered what her life was like, tried to picture where she might live, if she had met anyone nice yet.
I got another drink, when a woman named Kathy from the Style section came over and started talking about something she wanted us to work on with her.
'Not now, Kathy... it's Friday night,' I thought.
Part of what I was up against at work was that my department was very new and very small, just my boss Keith and me, and Ben, our code geek. And almost no one at the Times understood what we did or what to do with us. Until a month ago they all seemed to think we were the bar-chart specialists, now we were the map people. Kathy was especially clueless, she wanted help with a PowerPoint presentation, which is not at all what we do.
"Yeah," I told her earnestly, "let's check in on Monday to discuss it further."
I was pretty sure Claire hadn't seen me, and while I wanted to go say hi, I didn't want to intrude on her fun. I was also feeling a little overserved and figured I'd better make my exit before I said something rude to Kathy or stupid to one of the others, but I urgently needed to pee first.
While waiting in the queue at the toilets, someone crashed into me from behind, I turned, ready to give them hell.
"I think it's really your turn to run into me? But who's counting..." Claire quips, laughing and smiling. "What is
my Sarah
doing here?"
"Claire! Oh, I'm... obligatory after-conference drinks?" I explained as she embraced me and greeted me with a kiss on each cheek - much wetter and warmer than the last two times, and again, dangerously close to my mouth. A sliver of an image from my dream surprises me, making me blush, but it's gone as quickly as it appeared. Claire is smiling brightly, eyes wide.
"New York is the biggest small town in the world, right?" she asks, flushed and wet lipped, her eyes looking a
little
glassy.
I suspect I'm not the only one feeling overserved.
"I saw you with your group," I admit, "but I didn't want to intrude-"
