Uptight Annie Ch 01

Annette leaned back in her chair and rubbed her eyes, exhausted from spending the last several hours staring intently into a screen. She was working on her doctoral thesis in biology. For the last two years, her entire life had been focused around an experimenting with mouse genetics, and she was sure the result would shake the foundations of her field forever.

She sighed and idly twirled her unwashed curly hair, reliving a daydream that she'd had since she was a little girl: she was standing on stage in front of a cheering crowd. An older white-haired man was shaking her hand and giving her a shining golden disk - the Nobel Prize! She had done it! Finally, everyone would acknowledge her great intelligence, they would know that even pretty face like her could make a real change in the world!

Annette opened her eyes, feeling rejuvenated. Daydreams like these had always comforted her through her confusing high school years as she watched her childhood best friends grow up. When they started wearing shorter skirts and flirting with the horny aggressive high school boys who gave them so much attention, she felt left behind. She didn't want to give sex up too easily, she really wanted to be taken seriously. Still, they gave her the attention too, and sometimes it was hard to ignore. She knew she was cute and feminine, at five feet tall with blond hair and boobs that were just a little too big. She wasn't oblivious to the stares she got during puberty.

Still, she stayed very modest as she grew up. About halfway through her undergraduate degree, Annette realized that it would be better for her career if she had a boyfriend and eventually, a husband. For a while she was a little concerned - she knew how badly men want sex, and shuddered at the idea of being pressured for it all the time. Eventually she decided that as long as she controlled when they had sex, a boyfriend would suit her just fine.

So she wasn't surprised but annoyed when she felt hot hands pressing on her cold shoulders from behind her. She tensed up. "Steven, what are you doing? Go back to bed, it's 2 AM, I'm getting a lot done here."

"You've been sitting there doing nothing for the last 5 minutes. You're not working. Come on, come to bed with me. I'm hard, come on, Annie, I'm horny.." he murmured.

She felt a hot flash of anger and withdrew from his touch. "What the fuck did I tell you about calling me Annie? I'm an adult, I'm a grown woman, and my name is Annette. Annie is diminutive and it just shows how little you respect me. If you really respected me, you'd stop trying to fuck me all the time!"

"Goddamnit Annette, I want to get laid. This isn't fair. I know you're busy, I know it's been hard, but I'm a man! I have needs and you're not fulfilling them!"

She was furious. She'd never heard him talk like this before, and she knew in that moment he was just like every other man out there.

"You're a sexist pig. I can't believe you'd say that to me - I never want to touch you again." she said coldly.

He stood there for a moment in the dark with no expression on his face. He didn't look angry or sad or even happy. Annette shivered - she'd never seen him like this before. She started to speak, but suddenly he was moving quickly, pulling on jeans and a shirt before striding angrily to the door. "Fine," he scowled "If you won't fuck me, I'll find another way".

The door slammed, and Annette burst into tears. She didn't know what to do, Steven had never talked to her that way before. He used to be content with their bi-weekly - or monthly - dispassionate quickies, but lately he had been asking for sex more and more. She liked him a lot, he was reliable and educated, but lately he was acting like every other man out there - a sex-crazed animal. She didn't know how to deal with that. Miserable and angry, she dragged herself to sleep.

***********

Annette was still grumpy when she woke up the next morning. Grumbling quietly to herself about horrible sexist men, she went to her computer immediately and threw herself into her work to distract herself. She was completely focused until noon, when she was startled to hear the doorbell ring. When opened the door, all she could see was a package sitting right in the middle of her doormat. She took it to the kitchen table and set it down.

"God, this better not be some dumb gimmick from Steven. I'd love to see him win me back with a box." She tore open the package, and found, below several layers of thick tissue paper, a fancy little bottle of moisturizer. There was nothing else inside the box. She took it out and examined it. It glimmered in the light; it was a very expensive looking bottle, with shiny gold writing on the front. She couldn't take her eyes away from it, the text seemed to jump as she turned it this way and that.

"How odd!" she thought. "I've never heard of the brand before. It's such a pretty little bottle, Steven's taste would never be this good. Wow, I feel like I can smell it already.. I think it smells good." It was so attractive that it immediately removed any doubts she had about the package or its origins. She snapped the cap open and brought the tip of the bottle to her nose and inhaled deeply. It smelled amazing, like honey and rose and something musky and warm that she couldn't quite identify.

Overcome with enthusiasm for the new product, she squeezed a big dollop onto her hands and rubbed them together. The sensation was incredible - her fingers tingled and felt warm and soft, rubbing them together felt amazing. She was completely focused on the feeling in just her hands for a minute, but slowly realized that the goo wasn't really being absorbed. She slid her slippery fingers up her arms, noticing dully how it made them glisten and shine in the low light. She hesitated for a moment when she reached to take off the straps of her tank top - "What am I doing? Putting on this lotion is unnecessary to begin with - why would I take off my shirt to do it anyway?" - but soon gave up the thought in favor of moving her hands up her shoulders. Greedily dispensing more delicious musky moisturizer from the tube, she massaged her shoulders and neck. She took no note of the fact that she was squeezing her own neck far too tight when she passed it.

"Fuck, what's going on? I shouldn't be doing this, I've already spent way too long on it. Why aren't I stopping myself? Going back to work would be a better idea. This makes me feel so good, and... feeling good is supposed to be bad..." She shuddered as her glistening fingers slipped below the neckline of her shirt, grazing her surprisingly taut little nipple. Touching her boobs - no, breasts - was pushing her over the edge. She hesitated for only a few seconds before mauling her tits, pushing her tank top down to her belly. She felt like an out-of-control animal as she sunk to the floor, letting her tits bounce in her hands, squeezing them, pulling on the nipples, and making sure every perky inch was shiny and covered in moisturizer.

It felt like her hands had minds of their own. Without thinking, she shed her sweatpants and laid back on the floor, completely naked except for her white panties. Her fingers roamed everywhere they could reach, periodically returning to the bottle to collect more sweet honey-smelling serum. Soon, her whole body was glistening, she was moaning and mumbling uncontrollably, hopelessly horny and desperately needing to cum. She shoved her fingers into her panties, grinding against her little clitty desperately. She was so inexperienced at masturbating but she needed it so badly she couldn't bear it. She couldn't control her need to cum as she slipped one, then two fingers into her cunt, fucking herself with all her might. She felt a sense of foreboding, anticipating something terrible right after she came, but she was incapable of stopping herself. Lying prone on the floor, mauling her titties and pussy, she felt completely mindless. In that moment all she wanted was to cum and cum and stay on the floor forever and ever. She finally came with a shuddering moaning scream, her pussy gushing and pulsating.

*********

It took a couple minutes to come back to herself completely. The first thing she realized was that the inside of her thighs felt cold and wet. Her breasts felt glowing and painful, her nipples still sticking out sharply. She sat up, looked at her glistening naked body, so exposed and feminine, and the shame of what she had just done came rushing into her. A thousand thoughts went through her mind: 'What was that? What's wrong with me? I don't masturbate, that wasn't me. Don't I have any shame?"

She quickly picked herself off the floor, rushing to her room. She put on a bra and a long sleeved shirt, trying to cover up her shiny iridescent skin, which wouldn't stop reminding her of what she had just done. She slid off her moist panties to distance herself from the act, and searched frantically through her pants drawer. She grew more and more frustrated - she simply couldn't find any pants that were suitable! How could this be? After everything that has just happened, she just wanted some pants! Finally, at the bottom she found an old skirt from high school, which fell far above her knees and was printed with a gaudy red plaid. She didn't know why she had it anymore - she wouldn't be caught dead in something so slutty. So she was very confused to find herself stepping into it, pulling it up high around her waist so the hemline rose even further up her thighs, and turning around to admire her bottom in the mirror.

"I never knew how good this skirt looked on me! I feel like a whole different girl - I mean woman - I mean.. what am I doing?" She remembered for the first time that she hadn't put on new panties yet, and she only remembered because the skirt had flipped up enough to flash her raw pink little pussy. She made a slow, lazy move toward her panties drawer, and then thought how comfortable she felt in a nice short skirt with her assets out on display. Confused, she stood motionless for a moment, trying to figure out what to do, until she caught sight of herself in the mirror. "I'm so cute! I forgot how nice skirts look on girls! Hm, ooh, I know what would make me cuter! Makeup!" Practically bouncing, she dug through her drawers until she found all the makeup she owned. Coloring her eyes in with coal black and rubbing bright pink lipstick on her lips, she was starting to turn into a wet dream of a cheerleader. She hardly noticed.

Giggling at her own appearance, she flounced out of the bedroom, excited to be so giddy and completely unwilling to examine why she felt that way. She wandered around from room to room, horny and happy, before settling at the computer. She dully tried to scan the words of her thesis, with some pretense in her head that she would work on i. She only did this for a few minutes before sighing and exclaiming to herself "God, how boring! I want to find something cute to look at!" Not sure what she was looking for, she searched her mind for the first words that came up. Dumbly, she typed into the search bar "slutty cute cunt pink skirt hard cock suck girl", and lazily rubbed at her pussy underneath the desk as she stared at the results. She somehow found herself at a very dirty sex toy shop, and for a moment something inside her quivered and changed momentarily. "I'm looking at a very filthy thing. I should be ashamed of myself, sex toys are horrible and phallic and exploitative of women." The thought only lasted in her mind for a few seconds before sweetly dissolving back into a horny pink mush. She ordered a vibrator, a dildo, and a lot dresses with short little skirts and low cut necklines to show off her pretty boobies.

She got up, feeling dizzy and warm. Something was wrong, the scent of that sweet lotion was starting to come off her skin. She frantically looked for the little bottle and found it, somehow, in the kitchen, next to a big stack of dishes that she and Steven had argued about washing just last night. Before she knew what she was doing, her hands and legs and exposed pussy were covered in the sweet honey cream. She was practically humping her fingers as her pussy warmed and tingled in response to the stuff, but she didn't feel like cumming. All she could think about was how harsh she'd been to poor Steven, how he'd just wanted her to be a good girlfriend for him. She felt mad at herself for thinking of him as bossy. Now that she thought about it, he was more commanding, stern, strong. He was the kind of man that a girl should listen to, he knew what she should do. And he wanted her to do the dishes! How had she ever resisted him? She was so silly!

Annette donned a pair of rubber gloves and hummed away happily, sticking her ass out and wiggling it in time to the music in her head. Steven would be so pleased! He would think she was such a good girl! Maybe he would grab her round little ass, finger her pussy, maul her boobs right there at the sink! Oh, that would be so nice! Her thoughts were warm and bubbly and pink and she felt perfectly content. Then she heard a key turn in the lock.