A Survey so Scientific

Part 2: "A Sordid Piece of Material"

The loud and rapid rapping at the office door roused a confused Amara out of her nap. She was disorientated for a few seconds, as her conscious self recollected and recreated the reality around her. The first thing that Amara noticed about her immediate reality was that her office was filled with a heavy scent of her pussy.

That realisation was followed by the fact that Amara still had one leg on her desk, and that her vagina was still lewdly exposed to anyone who might have stridden into her office. She remembered, with relief, that she had been clever enough to lock the door. She picked up her phone wondering how long she had drifted off.

'Peru' was still blasting out of her phone's speakers, on loop on the Spotify app.

"Tonight in Jozi, I'm in Jozi!" Fireboy DML was excitedly declaring through her phone's loudspeaker.

Amara calculated that she couldn't have been out for more than ten minutes; a blissful ten minutes in which she had floated on the waves of her climactic aftermath; sensuously drowsy after her pussy had had its release, and her horniness, now fully satiated, subsided.

The knock at her door became more insistent, more urgent. Then came a concerned voice.

"Amara!" That voice belonged to Melissa, her boss. "Are you okay in there?"

"Oh, uhm, yeah! Just a minute, please. I'm coming." Shit, thought Amara. What was her boss doing here?

"What's going on in there, Amara? Why is this door locked? I didn't see any meetings on your calendar." Amara was well aware that it was the Marketing team's policy to have open doors whenever someone was in the office. Melissa, who was the director, was a particular stickler for that rule. She hated closed doors, to the extent that she never closed or locked her own office door unless privacy was expressly required, many times leaving her door ajar even when she was out of office. Physical security was never an issue. The company's systems tracked and knew pretty much who went into which office at all times.

"I'm okay, Melissa." She shouted at the door. "Just a sec."

Amara sat bolt upright, withdrawing her splayed leg and placing it in a more dignified posture. There was no way she was going to let her boss into her office to me met by the strong stench of pussy that hung heavily in the air. Amanda realised that she needed to treat the office in the same way she had done with the lift. She reached for her bag, retrieving her fragrances; perfume, hair spray and body spray. She rushed around her office, treating each corner to a generous dose of the sprays.

"Do you have mosquitoes in there?" Melissa's voice was asking.

"What? Mosquitoes...no! I mean, yes! Lots of mosquitoes! Just a minute, please."

Amara hurriedly stuffed her sprays and sodden underwear back inside her handbag, and her handbag inside the bottom drawer of her desk. She sniffed at the air in several different directions. That's much better, she thought. You could only detect any vaginal aromas if you knew about them. Otherwise, it just smelled like someone had been spraying themselves.

She picked up her phone and turned the music off. Then Amara stood upright purposefully, straightened her skirt, and strutted across her office to her door. In a slow deliberate act, Amara unlocked the door and swung it open to face the concerned-looking figure of her boss.

Melissa was slightly taller than Amara, with a similar size waistline. Besides that, and the fact that Melissa certainly had a plumper ass and ampler breasts, the two women had similar hourglass structures, a fact that had earned them the moniker of 'the hourglass twins' around the offices.

"Hey, Melissa!" Amara said cheerfully. "How are you doing. What can I do to help you?"

"What can you do to...what?" Melissa said. "What's gotten into you, Amara? Was the accident that bad. Did you knock your head?"

"Accident? What accident?"

"I'm talking about your accident in the restaurant. Oh my God! Have you lost some of your memory?"

"Oh, that accident...no. It wasn't that bad."

"Okay, so are you gonna let me into your office, or are we going to hold a meeting right here in the corridor?"

"Meeting? Oh, yeah, of course. Sorry. Wait a minute, did we have a meeting today...?" Amara's voice quivered with panic.

"What kind of question is that? I just told you; there are no meetings on your calendar. But, you were supposed to have confirmed a meeting with the printing press this afternoon. I just had a call from them telling me that no such confirmation was done."

"Oh shit!" Amara said. "I'm so sorry, Melissa. They didn't cancel the order, did they?"

"Well, luckily for you, I was able to do your job for you, and we are booked for Friday. That, by the way, is tomorrow. Well, am I going to come in?"

"Yes, of course," Amara said, walking back to her desk with Melissa in tow.

"Why does your office smell so much of perfume?" Melissa asked, placing her handbag on Amara's desk, but not bothering to take any one of the visitors' chairs.

"Look at all this mess! What on earth has been going on in here?"

"What? Oh the spraying.... Yeah. That was because of the mosquitoes."

"Mosquitoes? Since when do you use perfume to spray at mosquitoes?"

"Did I say mosquitoes? I meant the accident. You know...that accident." That part was kind of true, Amara thought. Of course she was not going to tell her boss that the head of Customer Management had walked up to her and casually asked her if she thought her face looked like her pussy; that this question had done crazy things to her head and to her pussy; had shocked her into dropping her lunch tray; and had sent her into a totally unexpected frenzy of horniness; and that she had felt unable to resist or overcome that horniness until she had nourished it frantically with her fingers.

"What?" Melissa said. "I was told that the accident was in the restaurant, not in here."

"Oh, yes. The accident was in the restaurant. But some of my clothing got spoilt and holly crap, the smell was everywhere!"

"The smell of what? Exactly what kind of accident did you have? You are not making any sense."

Amara was not going to disclose to Melissa that the pungent scent that had been everywhere had in fact been produced by her own vagina.

"Well, you know, that man startled me," Amara said, "And then I accidentally dropped the tray and then everything went everywhere."

"But that doesn't explain why your office smells like you are trying to fumigate it and scare the cockroaches away. What kind of food was it to have smelled so bad? And how did it end up in your office?"

"I told you...I...spilled this tray, and...and..."

"I know. Everything went everywhere. But it doesn't explain how that everywhere includes your office, which is six floors up from the restaurant. Come to think of it, this is the exact same scent that is kind of hanging in the lift."

Oh no, did Melissa know about the lift too? But, Amara thought, there was no conceivable way that Melissa would guess that she had produced so much vaginal juices that some of it had run down her leg, and had led to her pungent, intimate odours filling up the entire lift, which had led to Amara taking her panties off and using them to wipe her pussy dry--right there in the lift.

"Yea, I know. I...I...spilt it, and it was all over me. I could smell it. That's why I had to spray."

"But your clothes look perfectly fine to me, and there's no way you laundered them and put them back on."

"No, but I'm not wearing all my clothes," Amara croaked. She wished she could swallow those specific words back, even as they left her mouth.

"What?" The incredulity in Melisa's voice was not surprising.

"I mean, the item that got ruined. I had to take it off, you see." Amara didn't know why, of all the things she could have chosen to say by way of explanation, this was the only one that crossed her mind. She certainly didn't intend for Melissa to realise exactly what she had taken off.

"You had to take it off? Where is it?"

"I...I...I put it...away," Amara said. "I put it away...I mean, I had to put it away, it was so ruined. That's why I had to spray the lift and the office. I mean, it was offal meat. It was horrible. Just awful!"

"Okay, and where is this piece of clothing with bits of offal meat on? Besides, you look perfectly fully clothed to me. Come on, Amara. What's going on? First, you have some apparently bizarre accident in the restaurant, then you spray the hell out of the lift, and that's before you lock yourself up in your office--against agreed departmental policy, I might add--you spray the hell out of that too, and pretend to me that you were spraying for mosquitoes. Besides all this, you missed an important task, such as confirming an important appointment. And now you are simply not making any sense and have been having a bit of a rave party in here, with loud music blaring out of your phone."

"But trust me, Melissa. Everything I've explained to you is true. I had to take it off, and then I put it away."

"Wait a minute! Have you been having sex in this office?"

"What!? No! Why, I told you, it's just that..."

"I don't believe you. Are you hiding someone somewhere in this office? Hello!" Melissa called out, raising her voice and dramatically tilting her face up into the air and to her right side. "Are you hiding there? It's okay, you can come out now!"

"No, Melissa. Come on, please don't do that. There's nobody here."

"Then, just explain to me what is going on," Melissa said. "And I want to see where you put that item of clothing. It's the only way you can prove to me that you are telling me the truth, because you have your skirt, your blouse and your shoes all perfectly on, and for the life of me, I can't see that there's anything missing in the way you are dressed."

Amara was getting almost frantic. What was she going to do? There was no way in hell that she was going to show Melissa her panties. She had to avoid that shame at all costs, because with just one look, Melissa would know, not only that those panties were sodden, but that they were sodden with nothing other than vaginal secretions. Even without visual confirmation, the stench would be a dead give-away. Amara could already register the smell of her pussy hanging heavily in the air, just underneath the fragrances that she had sprayed.

"But I've told you the truth," she said, lamely. "I threw it away. It's not here anymore."

"That is simply not true. If that line you are feeding me about your clothing item; if that is true, then it's here. It must be in here. It must be here because you've been in here with your door locked all this time. Which means that you just don't want me to see it. Now, why on earth would you not want me to see it?"

"What?" Amara squealed.

"Wait a minute, it's your panties, isn't it? You don't want to show me this piece of clothing, which we know is right in here, in this office, because it is your panties. So, it is true. Oh my God. You have been having sex in here."

"No, I haven't...." That was kind of half true. Amara did not classify masturbation as having sex.

"Amara, are you wearing any panties right now?"

"What?"

"You heard me," Melissa said, a stern look clouding her face. "I asked you if you are wearing any panties right now."

" Of course, I am," Amara said, trying to sound dismissive. "What a question! What, do you want me to show you that I'm wearing panties?"

"Well, that would be conclusive proof, wouldn't it? But don't be ridiculous!" Melissa almost spat the words out. "You can show me the clothing item that you took off, since you won't even tell me what it is, or where you threw it away to. Wait a minute, where's your handbag?"

Amara eyes involuntarily shot to the bottom drawer of her desk. And that was all the indication Melissa needed. She walked over to Amara's side of the desk, only to encounter her subordinate physically blocking her access.

"Amara, please get out of my way, and that's an order."

"No!" Amara said emphatically. "You can't do this. I can't let you do this. I have a right to my privacy!"

"Amara, you heard me," Melissa said. The two girls were already physically tussling, with Melissa trying to pull Amara away from her desk, and Amara resisting and pushing and shoving. They wrestled, grappling, grabbing, pushing and jostling. Soon, they were both out of breath, panting heavily into each other's face.

Amara and Melissa matched each other in physical strength. Two pairs of breasts were now crushing into each other, as each woman strained to get the other's upper hand, to no avail.

"Come on, Amara," Melissa said gasping breathlessly. "Why don't you want me to see what's in that drawer?" They had their arms interlocked around each other, their faces only separated by inches. Amara could feel Melissa's hot breath in her face, and was sure Melissa could feel hers.

"I can't let you do that, Melissa," Amara breathed back. "I'm sorry, but I can't."

"Come on!" Melissa panted. "I know you've been having sex in here. I have already felt, just now, that you are not wearing any panties. You are completely bare underneath this skirt."

"No, Melissa," Amara pleaded, "Please just stop!"

Then Melissa did something totally unexpected by Amara. She did stop. Melissa stopped wrestling and simply crouched in front of Amara, appearing totally out of breath. She wasn't even looking at Amara, her gaze fixed to the floor, her shoulders hunched and her head low.

As Amara relaxed, thinking that her boss had run out of energy and the fight was over, Melissa pounced. Maintaining her low posture, she lunged at a surprised Amara, grabbing her by her thighs and lifting her clean off the floor. In the same movement, she sprung to her feet, hoisting the curvaceous Amara into the air, almost over her shoulders.

Amara wriggled and twisted, but it was to no avail. Melissa had a frim grip, just above her knees, and was not letting go. She swung Amara round, placing her firmly on the floor, away from her desk. Melissa's own back was now to the chest of drawers, as if guarding them.

Now the fight was over; they both knew it. Nonetheless, Melissa chose to drive the point home.

"Listen, Amara," she said, her breathing in laboured gasps for air in-between words. "Whatever is going on here, we can work it out, okay? I'm your boss, not your enemy, and what's happening here doesn't compute. As your boss, I need to know that whatever is going on is not affecting your performance, but right now, all the evidence is to the contrary. Even before I find out what's in there, I already have enough reason to throw the book at you.

"It seems clear that you've been having sex in this office, and it's obvious that you are not wearing any underwear. I actually felt your bare ass on my arms as I lifted you just now. Still, I'm going to find out anyway, okay? So, you can tell me what's happening right now, or I'm going to open this drawer. What is it to be?"

Amara wished her office's floor would open up and swallow her. She was overcome with embarrassment and shame. She thought about what Melissa was asking for a few moments, concluding quickly that she was not going to tell Melissa about Keaton's study; because she had promised him she wouldn't tell anyone.

She, also, was not going to tell her about how Keaton had more or less whispered in her ear the question of whether or not her face looked like her pussy and how that she had found that question so hot, so totally intoxicating, that her pussy had started dripping its juices immediately. She was not going to tell Melissa that her pussy had continued dripping, completely soaking her panties, and that it had dripped all over the lift and all over her office, until only minutes ago when she had attacked her vaginal hole with two fingers, while another was pressed hard on her clitoris. Or that at one point, she had stuffed the very panties that Melissa was asking to see, completely inside her vagina and had held them there while she made herself cum.

"You are not willing to own up, are you? Okay, then. Here goes."

Melissa turned so her round ass half-faced Amara, and stooped down, pulling at the drawer. Amara's handbag came into view. It was gaping wide open, because in her hurry, Amara had forgotten to close and zip it up. And the first thing that was visible inside Amara's handbag were her panties. It was immediately obvious that the pale pink material was no longer it's original colour, and that it was totally soaking with pussy juices.

In spite of the heavy scent of perfume and other sprays in the air, Melissa was treated to the pungent odour of Amara's cunt.

"Oh my God!" Melissa exclaimed.