Diane was having a normal, boring day at work. That is how she liked her days at work to be, and that was how they usually were. She was in the middle of some very complicated, technical paperwork about the depreciation of a boiler in the campus' physical plant, which is what an actuary could be expected to be doing at 1 PM on a rainy, boring day. There were few things in her office (the campus was still old fashioned enough that the staff had small offices, rather than cubicles) that would even begin to suggest that her entire life was not an endless supply of paper work. One was that the omnipresent Successories posters that seemed to sneak into most institutional offices were replaced by more tasteful prints of somewhat obscure artists. Another was that Diane was drinking tea from home out of a thermos. Even if there had been good coffee in the office, she would have preferred tea, and she couldn't understand why all her fellow office workers swilled instant coffee like it was the nectar of the Gods.
Not that they would know what the Nectar of the Gods was. It wasn't something you swilled. It was something you tasted very, very delicately.
She sighed and flipped over some more papers. After a few minutes, she noticed something, a light breeze around her office. She looked up from her desk, and tried to see the source of the breeze. She couldn't feel where it was coming from, and it soon died down. She returned, with half a mind, to her work. But in another few minutes, she felt something else. She felt hot and stuffy. She looked up again, wondering if the building's ventilation system was not working. She hoped not, because that would produce perhaps months of discomfort and of course, months of paperwork for the accounting department after it was fixed. But she couldn't feel any hot air coming from the vents. But the feeling grew, and she also felt as if the comfortable chair she was in was getting narrower and tighter. Her plain grey skirt felt itchy against her pantyhose. And, after a minute she felt a rush between her legs that made her think she was menstruating. But that was barely a possibility, since it had been ages since she had stopped that. But she felt like she should go to the restroom and see what was going on, anyway. She left her office, walking a little faster than normal. If her co-workers had seen her, they might have noticed that her usual measured, slow pace was replaced by a steady clip. But even her fast walking wouldn't have attracted much attention.
As soon as she slipped into the bathroom, and found a stall, she flipped up her skirt and sent a hand down between her legs. She felt herself, sodden, and when she raised her fingers to her face, she could smell her arousal. Putting her hand down between her legs, she could feel that not only was she wet, but she was swollen, and excited enough that even the investigative probing of her fingers sent shocks up her body. It was odd of her to feel this way at work, usually she let her lustful side come out on her weekends, when she unbottled her desire and body in a way that most people couldn't imagine, or even believe. She had not even been thinking of anything sexual, yet her body had responded, as if on its own. Already, she could feel a gentle urging for more, and she felt her swollen parts ask for the relief that she could bring so quickly with her hand on her little bud. She had never done this at work before, but now she felt as if she would.
But Diane was not an ordinary woman, and her lusts, however strong, were not ordinary lusts. She looked up at the ceiling, and inhaled, long and slow, calming herself down, drawing herself back into her self. She felt the lust, and the moisture, recede. Now her only problem was her very wet pair of panties, that might carry the subtle smell of her arousal around the office. She slipped them off, and saw that they were well and truly soaked, which provided a nice contrast to their plain, unsexy cut. She looked at them for a half a minute before realizing that they were having an effect on her, and that she was starting to well up between her legs again. She had to resist the urge to hold them up to her face, to let the smell and even the taste of them float and waft around her. She quickly folded them up in a cloth and put them in her purse, and then went to wash her hands. After she washed her hand, she caught her own eye in the mirror and laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation.
She walked back to her cubicle, at a measured pace. When she was halfway there, she heard a voice.
"Excuse me Ma'am, I think you dropped these..." she spun around to see a young man holding her cloth, with her soaked panties still in them. Luckily, there was no one too close. But her heart still sped up and a blush spread across her face.
"Yes, I think I..." she recognized the young man, a recent hire of the department. Although just out of high school, he had been hired because of his expertise in computer networking. He had not exchanged anything beyond hello's with him for the past four months. She thought of him as quiet, modest and probably boring. But then, that was how everyone thought of her.
