Flash Fiction Friday 1-14-10: "Service with a Smile"

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Flash Fiction Friday 9-24-10: "Office Politics"

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Flash Fiction Friday 4-23-10: "Hot for Teacher"

(Photo this week submitted by Dangerous Lilly; thanks, Lilly, for a great one.)

She was the ideal biology teacher, he thought as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Certainly every time he looked at her he felt electrochemical reactions firing in his blood, erectile tissues firming, pulse rate increasing, synapses sparking wild scenarios in the neural channels of his brain. Scenarios of her bent over that desk. Of her head bobbing in his lap. Of biology in its...purest form.

“Mr. Mendel!” Her strident voice cut through the pleasant and familiar haze.

He jerked, startled – and sure every lewd thought was written plain as day across his face. “Er....yes?”

“See me after class. We'll see if I can't get your mind back on biology again.”

He flushed in apparent embarrassment, but inside a secret demon was capering in delight. Oh, Miss Watson. You have no idea.

(Click for details on FFF!)

Your challenge for today was to use the picture above and write a flash fiction of 128 - 138 words. Nobody's checking word counts, but you're only cheating yourself if you break the rules. Unless you're doing it to earn a spanking (in which case, see me after class).

We had another fine group of participants this week. Why not go check out their take on this FFF?

Gray:  http://mygrayline.blogspot.com/
Soren:  http://amorousdays.blogspot.com/
Clem:  http://gentlemanteacher.wordpress.com/  (Newcomer this week; stop by and say hello.)
Jonsbabydoll:  http://thebloggingslave.com/
Spring Flower:  http://agirlsgottahaveoptions.blogspot.com/
Sephani Paige:  http://sephanipaige.wordpress.com/
Lilly:  http://dangerouslilly.com/   (Lilly hasn't played with us yet either; drop by and welcome her.)
Snow:  http://snow9.wordpress.com/
Max:  http://mystic-satyr.blogspot.com/   (Another newcomer, drop by and say howdy.)
Diable Incarne:  http://conningdevil.blogspot.com/
Luna Mauvaise:  http://lunamauvaise.blogspot.com/

Check back here on Monday for the next challenge! 

-- PB

Working Hard, or Hardly Working?

"Interoffice mail, Josh."

Josh was startled out of his midmorning daze -- what shall I have for lunch? Will there be time to get the research done on those bonds before Mrs. Wright's 2:00? Damn, I hate this uncomfortable chair -- by a sultry, smoky voice. He looked up to see Lynne, the office assistant who also served double duty as mail girl, staring at him rather like the cat who just swallowed the canary. And, as always happened when she spoke to him, he got tongue-tied and couldn't think of anything to say.

"Uhhh...." he managed finally, after a thick silence had persisted for several seconds.

Lynne's smile broadened. "Ohhhh, my. Was my Josh having a naughty daydream? Did I interrupt something? Should I let you get back to your" -- her gaze strayed down his chest to the crotch of his slacks -- "fun?" She pronounced that last with an exaggerated, breathy pout.

Josh instantly went beet red and began stammering (again par for the course, he thought irritably; damn it all). "No, I, um, I was just thinking about, about, about some stuff, that's all, not.....er, not that." And bit his tongue. He sounded like a fucking idiot. Why the hell did this woman make him so nervous? Why did she make his heart pound, his tongue tangle, his brain whirl...his cock throb?

Maybe it was because she absolutely refused to wear business attire. Well, she did wear a suit jacket and skirt, but somehow the skirt was always just a few inches short of decency and the suit jacket was always open and the blouse was always unbuttoned so her big breasts swelled into some very impressive cleavage. Maybe it was because she licked her lips whenever she saw him, and winked at him, and kept playing with her hair whenever she caught his eye from across the office. Maybe it was the Nordic goddess look that she pulled off so well, with her white-blonde hair and those high cheekbones.

Or maybe it was because she kept looking at him like a target fixed in her crosshairs. As she was doing now. "What's so wrong with....that?" she inquired, lazily. "Having naughty daydreams? I do it all the time, you know." She giggled throatily, and stretched like a lioness, the movement pulling her blouse tighter over her straining breasts. His eyes bugged out.

There was absolutely nothing he could say in reply to that, only stammer and stutter. Goddamn it, he thought, am I never going to learn to deal with women? She could make it a little easier, anyway; doesn't she see what she's doing to me?

Abruptly, Lynne seemed to tire of playing with him. "Interoffice mail," she reminded him, holding up one of the big envelopes and dropping it on his desk. "See you later, loverboy." And she flounced off, pushing her little cart between desks, ass working prettily under that tight skirt. He stared after her, but gulped and pulled his head down like a turtle into its shell when she glanced over her shoulder, smiling wickedly, and caught him red-handed (and red-faced, he thought ruefully).

Shaking his head to clear it, he turned his attention to the envelope. Light. Must be another damn memo from Carlson in A/R. If that fucker tried to disallow his travel expenses one more time, Josh was going to march over there and force-feed him the expense claim sheets he seemed to love so damned much. He slit the envelope and shook it a bit, dislodging something that fell out onto the desk with a faint plop.

It was a pair of red panties.

What the hell?

For several long seconds the gears in Josh's brain squealed and smoked, grinding futilely in an effort to get some synapses firing, figure out the reason for this, anything. He stared, and stared. They were still panties. And wow, were they bright red. And -- he sniffed, realizing he smelled something musky and strong -- they smelled really good.

Abruptly he realized that he was in the middle of a busy office with a fucking pair of women's panties sitting out on the middle of his desk. He snatched them up, looking around guiltily, and stuffed them hastily into a drawer.

What in the hell was going on?

Grasping at straws, he reached for the envelope again and shook it some more. A half-sheet of paper fell out. He turned it right-side up and read what was written there in a feminine hand, with mounting shock: 

Josh,

I'll make this short and sweet. I've seen you staring at me. I know I embarrass you, but you don't need to be embarrassed. I want you, and I want you now. These are my panties. I just took them off in the bathroom. That means I'm not wearing any right now. Come meet me in the supply closet in five.

-- Lynne

Wildly, Josh scanned the room, sure the truth must be printed all over his face clear as day, and saw the culprit staring openly, boldly, at him. She looked once, very directly, at the open envelope, then back at his face again. And slowly, deliberately, mouthed the words Want you. Want you NOW, Josh. And got up, and walked down the hallway, in the direction of the supply closet.

Josh got up himself, a little unsteady on his feet, and began drifting -- it felt like his feet were several inches off the floor -- across the office and down the hallway. He passed a few people who said hello, but he was incapable of speech, incapable of caring that they gave him odd looks, surprised by the dazed look on his face. He found the supply closet and knocked, feeling stupid the instant he did it -- who knocks at a supply closet door? Gritting his teeth, he opened it and stepped inside.

And there she stood, gaze playing over his body, a hungry look in her eyes. Before Josh could say a word, she'd stepped close to him and captured his mouth with hers.

God, what a kiss. It went on and on and on. Her tongue swirled around his, her hands slid down his back to his ass and clenched there, her hips were thudding against his. His cock was awake and roaring, hard and angry. She was moaning into his mouth, writhing against him, one hand now on the back of his neck, the other one working at his belt and the catch of his slacks. He felt cool air on his legs as his pants fell down around his ankles and she broke the kiss long enough to murmur, "Let's see what you've got, loverboy." And she dropped to her knees, both hands going to his boxers and pulling them down. There was an instant of pain as the waistband caught on his cockhead, but then they were down and his cock was pointing at her face.

She obviously knew what to do with it and engulfed him like someone who hadn't eaten in months. White lightning danced in Josh's brain and he groaned as she took his shaft down her throat all the way to the base. She rubbed her nose back and forth in his pubic hair, humming around his cock, lips forming a tight, hard O at the base. Then she pulled back. His cock sprang free with a wet pop, slick and shining with her saliva, and she looked up at him with a devilish grin as she began to work it with both hands. Massaging, twisting, sliding friction up and down oh dear GOD it felt good.

Without warning she was on her feet again. She took his hand and guided it under her skirt; he gasped as he felt heat, wetness. He'd read stories, of course, had seen pornos, but never in a thousand years had he thought it was like this in real life, this heat that could scorch his fingers, this fire in her eyes, this hunger in her happy growl. She sighed happily and smiled at him, mouth wide, licking her lips as she moved his hand to where she liked it most. He felt a soft nubbin under his fingertips; experimentally, he pressed lightly on that button, and was rewarded by a burst of more wetness and a shuddering gasp from Lynne. "Oh yes," she sighed, "yes, play with my clit. Oh, yes, Josh, like that."

Encouraged, he kept rubbing, remembering from his reading that women liked it best when you kept a nice steady rhythm. So he did just that, moving his fingers in slow circles over her clit, watching in awe as she shook and shuddered, hips bucking towards him, legs clamping hard around his hand and making it harder for him to touch her.

Abruptly she spun away from him and hiked up her short skirt; dumbfounded, he could only stare at the globes of her ass as she presented it to him. She bent over, bracing her hands on the shelving, and tossed a glance back over her shoulder. She licked her lips and fixed her gaze on him, a searing contact, then said, very deliberately, "Do me now, Josh."

Head spinning, he stepped closer to her, fumbling his cock between her spread legs. He probed with the head, then found her center; heat and wetness splashed over his shaft as he fumbled. She wiggled her ass at him, moaning, and suddenly he sank home and there was no doubt anymore. His eyes rolled back in his head; he felt like he was flying, being pulled onward by the incredible pleasure flaring outward from his cock, buried in her velvety slick softness. He thrust forward, moaning uncontrollably. Her cunt clenched around him as he pulled back and thrust again, and then he was sliding in and out, bucking wildly against her, balls slapping against her ass, hands clenching around her hips, pulling her against him. Not that he needed to -- she was pushing back hard against him, trying to find a rhythm with him, eagerly cooperating, spreading herself wider, chanting his name softly.

He could feel his balls churning and boiling after a few minutes of this, and instinctively sped up till he was banging her with pure abandon. She threw back her head and cried out with joy, and he gasped out, somehow, that he was about to, to, to, and she moaned yes, yes, do it, fill me, cum in me, shoot for me, loverboy, and he felt his consciousness spiral downwards, inwards, funneling out through his cock as he fountained urgently inside her, coming hard, hips jerking spastically, hands clenching uncontrollably, body filled with sunlight, mind whirling, legs shaking. He pulled back -- exquisite agony as his cock popped free! -- and heard wet squelching sounds. She gasped as he slid out, and purred, "Oooo, Josh, you fucked me so good and hard. I'm gonna be oozing your cum for hours, I just know it."

She straightened up, flipping her skirt down, and stepped close to Josh, who was still panting from his exertions. She looked fantastic -- face full of color, eyes glittering, lips full and sulky. He wanted to pounce on her, take her again -- his cock gave a twitch just at the thought -- but with completion his initiative seemed to have deserted him again. He could only stare in wonder.

She opened the closet door and giggled as Josh frantically began pulling up his clothing. "Coast is clear," she reported. She gave him another very direct look that was fraught with promise. "Tell me, loverboy.....what are you doing after work?" She grinned, and slipped out the door before he could even come close to forming a reply.

And Josh realized his office life had just gotten a great deal more interesting.

-- PB

To Do List

This is my to-do list for today:

You

That's right. You're on my to-do list; are, in fact, the sum total of said list. I will be pursuing you with singleminded determination and efficiency. If all goes as planned, I will be done with my list, and with you, by noon today.

First I'll call in sick to work. It's easy to do when you take so few personal days off; being married to your work is sometimes a good thing. That will free me up for the rest of my more important tasks for the day.

Next, I'll hop in my car and drive to your office. Oh, yes....I know where you work. You've been keen to keep all professional references out of your scathingly hot journal entries, but a smart man, a methodical man, can put the pieces together and come up with a definite after some calculation and elimination. So I'll drive to your workplace, dressed to the nines in a smart suit, and stroll up to the receptionist.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"Oh, I think you can," I'll say, and tell her that I have an appointment with you.

"I.......didn't think she had any appointments this morning, sir. Can I have your name, please?"

"Surely. You can tell her that P. Bjørne Thørsen is here to see her."

"P. Bjørne Thørsen," she'll repeat slowly, and turn to her phone.

This is the one crucial spot. Will you recognize the name? Will your mind go winnowing through the recesses of your memory, connecting half-remembered email flirtations and salacious comments with a casually-tossed-off suggestion that I join you for "coffee" some day? Will you connect Mr. P. Bjørne Thørsen with me? And if you do....will you succumb to temptation?

Of course you will. I know you very well, you see.

And so the receptionist will inform me that you're ready to see me, and lead me down the hallway (passing curious co-workers who don't recognize me; "is he a new contact?" "Who's the sales guy?" "Anybody want the last donut?" -- well, maybe that last one wasn't about me) until we reach your own expansive office.

"Mr. Thorsen," she'll announce me, and then I'll close the door quietly, and it'll be just the two of us.

A long silence will fall, an electric silence, a tangible silence. It'll be the kind of silence that's thick with unspoken invitations, with possibilities. But you'll break first, as I knew you would. "You're a brazen bastard, aren't you?" you'll inquire, trying to sound angry.

Of course, I won't reply to that, simply staring at you, eyes scanning your body slowly, insolently, until you flush under the insistent heat of my gaze, and drop your own eyes to the carpet.

"That's better," I'll say. "You knew I'd come for you one day. It was only a matter of time."

Slowly, slowly, I'll sidle towards you, easing around your desk. Your eyes will follow me but you won't make a move, won't even turn to face me as I circle around behind you. My hands will go to your waist and press there, deliberately, firmly, but I won't touch you anywhere else -- not yet. A tiny shiver will be your only reaction so far. I'll bend forward to sniff along the back of your neck -- an animal scenting prey. I'll plant a trail of kisses along your neck -- a fine thing, these business dresses for women; they still leave a fine expanse of neck and shoulder free for the rest of us to admire -- and be rewarded with a breathy little sigh.

I'll pull you against me, allow you to feel the weight of my thickening erection against the softness of that magnificent ass of yours. My hands will run up your front now and find the buttons of your dress, where I'll begin unbuttoning them very slowly. I'll resume the kisses on your neck and throat, now being interspersed with light nibbles on the particularly tasty bits, and will listen with amusement to your deepening breathing, the sharp intakes of air when I do something you particularly like.

For example, when I get your dress unbuttoned far enough to expose your bra, and then unhook that to let your tits spill out. How nice of you -- you wore a bra that unhooks in the front, just for me. I'll run my hands over your globes, palms and fingertips making slow circles around your nipples and spiraling inward, tweaking them, making them stand out, standing up just for me. You'll be moaning deep in your throat right now, but your need for decorum will still be battling with your need to be fucked, so you'll be trying to keep it quiet despite the rising tide of sensations.

Abruptly I'll spin you around to face me and pull you hard against me for a fast and savage kiss. Invading, brutalizing, sandpaper of stubble rasping against your lips, contrasting with the eager heat and wetness of your tongue tangling with mine. I'll pull back from you with a moist parting sound and gaze down at you intently. There it'll be -- the fire kindled in your eyes, the heat that says "dominate me", the flame that's burning away the vestiges of your caution.

Accepting the flame, I'll push you down on the desk on your back, sweeping papers, office supplies and computer equipment off with a rustling, clattering crash. "No," you'll gasp, "the door. It's not locked." And of course I'll reply, "You knew it wasn't locked from the start and you didn't say anything. Too late to change your mind now," and punctuate the now by hiking the dress up past your waist.

Then, of course, I'll see that you aren't wearing panties, and chuckle, "My, you are a naughty girl today. Let's take care of that," and unzip my slacks. I'll chuckle some more at feeling your eager fingers helping free my cock from its confinement, and gasp softly when they wrap around me, drawing me closer. You'll be on the edge of regaining a modicum of control, but I can't have that, so I'll slam your wrists down on each side of you on the desk, pinning you beneath me, and thrust hard, upward, forward, into you.

Heat. God, the heat. I've fantasized about it for months, but never dreamed it'd be so. fucking. hot. inside you. But you'll be hot, all right, hot and wet, and tight as well, clenching around me as I batter my way into you. I'll be doing you hard and heavy, silencing your moans and gasps by covering your mouth with my own, slamming into you hard enough to leave imprints from the desk edge on the backs of your thighs.

Then, after a few minutes of banging, just when you're getting really into it, I'll stop completely, long enough for your eyes to fly open in shock and stare at me. I'll stare back at you, devouring you with my eyes, cock still buried deep in your cunt but utterly motionless. What a sight: to have you splayed on your desk, pinned and at my mercy, helpless before anything I might choose to do to you.

"Please....." I'll hear you whisper, afraid to raise your voice any more.

"Please what?" I'll inquire languidly, as if I hadn't been fucking you without mercy seconds before.

"Oh, God, do I have to beg for it?"

I'll pretend to consider, but in truth, this is what you love. You want to be dominated, to be taken, told what to do and how. So of course I'll say, "Yes, I think you do."

A flash of gratitude whirls across your expression and is gone. Then, "Please, fuck me. Take me. I'm yours. Do me hard and fast. Do me here on this desk, I don't care if anyone hears anymore. Slam me. Ram me. Give me that cock and fuck me hard. I'm begging you."

"It's....unseemly....for a woman.....to beg," I'll gasp out, punctuating each phrase by thrusting hard. You'll moan under the renewed assault, lifting your hips up to meet me each time. Soon we'll be back into a hard and fast rhythm again, bodies calling to each other, flesh meeting flesh with a flat, authoritative smacking sound, wet juicy sounds coming from your pussy as I pound you hard. I'll be mauling your tits by this time, with lips and tongue and teeth, trying to cram as much of you into my mouth as I can, feeling you arch underneath me to push your tits into my face.

Still I'll be fucking you, jamming into you harder and faster with every second. You'll be yelping and crying out now, past the point of caring, and me as well. I'll growl, "Cum for me, woman," and be rewarded by a cry of ecstasy, strangely quiet compared to how loud we've gotten. I'll emit a low moan of my own as your cunt clamps down on my cock, milking my own cum out to splatter your insides in pulsing jets. Then I'll subside, still panting.

It'll be long minutes before I soften and slip out of you, and I'll be spending the whole time caressing you, brushing your hair out of your face, planting soft kisses on your exposed skin from navel to forehead. Then, with a grin, I'll pull out my cell phone and take a picture of your new freshly-fucked look, before you can cover up or turn your face away.

"Blackmail material?" you'll ask, bitterly, as I pull back and begin tucking myself away.

"Of course not," I'll answer. "Just for my own enjoyment. You may be the president of the company, but I own you. I don't have any need for blackmail. And you know it."

You'll shiver, not entirely from the chill of the air conditioning, and straighten up, my cum already dripping down your legs. "I.......guess I do," you'll say.

I'll leave you to get cleaned up and head for the door. With a soft "click" I'll unlock it, and turn the knob.

"Wait!" I'll hear from behind me. "It....it was locked after all?"

"Naturally," I'll grin over my shoulder. "But next time, it won't be........"

-- PB

Fun at Work

Christina: picture this
Christina: i'm wearing a blue satin silk top
Christina: and ass hugging jeans
Panserbjorne: I like the picture already.
Christina: the top is low cut and is a nice contrast w/ my white breasts
Christina: now picture me stroking your chest
Christina: and asking to wrap my legs around your waist
Christina: that's where i'm at right now
Christina: at least inside my head
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Panserbjorne: I see that it's one of THOSE nights for you. :)
Christina: stroking my shaved pussy
Christina: so i can feel you get hard beneath me
Christina: i was thinking about you all the way home from the party i was at.
Panserbjorne: Oh, wow. :)
Panserbjorne: What happened at the party to get you worked up?
Christina: i just feel sexy tonight.
Christina: and a lot of guys staring at my tits
* Panserbjorne grins.
Christina: you're the one i want to bring home though.
* Panserbjorne blushes.
Christina: my C cups runneth over
* Panserbjorne grins.
Christina: nice and full
Christina: they desperately need to be fondled.
Panserbjorne: I would delight in doing so.
Christina: damn i want to fuck you.
Christina: i want to suck you nice and hard
Christina: and then slide right onto you
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm
Christina: swivel my hips
Christina: and thrust up and down
Christina: while you kiss my breasts
Christina: your hands everywhere
Panserbjorne: *kiss kiss kiss*
Christina: fuck me, PB
Christina: seriously, you were all i could think about on the ride home
Christina: i'd have touched myself but it was pouring, and i needed both hands to drive.
Panserbjorne: man, I just can't say how nice that makes me feel :)
Christina: i bet i could make you feel nicer.
Christina: c'mon
Christina: i want to see if you're as good as you write. ;)
Panserbjorne: well
Christina: i want your cock.
* Panserbjorne shudders deliciously.
Christina: i'll make you shudder inside of me.
Christina: i want to ride you
Christina: nice and hard
Christina: grinding my pussy into you
Christina: i want your hands on my waist
Christina: helping to move me back and forth
Christina: until we both cum
Christina: i need your hands on my tits and my ass
Christina: your fingers buried in my cunt
Christina: i want my lips on your chest
Christina: my hands in your hair
Christina: my moans in your ears
Christina: satisfy me
Panserbjorne: You have no idea what that's doing to me, do you? :)
Christina: nope
Christina: you're not being very vocal...;)
Christina: fuck me
Panserbjorne: I SO wish I could.
Christina: i need you in me
Panserbjorne: I would rather be anywhere else than here right now.
Panserbjorne: in your bed, sliding in and out of you, feeling your skin slippery with sweat against mine, would be a perfect escape.
Christina: would you pound me?
Panserbjorne: That depends.
Panserbjorne: I would start slow and grinding
Christina: i need rough sex tonight, not lovemaking
Panserbjorne: until you were panting for more.
Christina: i need you to make me cum, PB.
Panserbjorne: oh, wait, that's different.
Panserbjorne: If you want it rough and hard, then I would give it to you rough and hard.
Christina: i'm hot
Panserbjorne: yank your jeans down
Panserbjorne: bend you over a chair
Christina: my pussy is dripping for you.
Panserbjorne: yank your top up (or down) so I could maul your tits
Christina: mm
Christina: but i'm only in my underwear now..
Panserbjorne: then I'd yank THAT down. :)
Christina: and my fingers are stroking my clit
Christina: while i think about you having your way w/ me
Christina: fuck me good and hard
Christina: i feel naughty tonight
Panserbjorne: oh, my, yes.
Panserbjorne: banging you against the wall
Panserbjorne: your hands spread to brace you
Christina: yes please
Panserbjorne: perhaps yanking on your hair or your shoulders to pull you against me
Christina: yes
Panserbjorne: fucking you so hard that your ass is sore the next day from my flesh slapping against yours
Christina: but not so sore that i wouldn't want you again
Panserbjorne: Oh, of course not. :)
Christina: it's raining out
Christina: i'd love to bang you and listen to the rain.
Christina: or we could fuck in the rain
Panserbjorne: or perhaps bang me out in the rain?
Panserbjorne: :)
Panserbjorne: twisted minds think alike. :)
Christina: you could bend me over my fire escape and nail me.
Christina: i need you to nail me, PB.
Christina: i want you so badly.
Panserbjorne: over your fire escape, hmm?
Christina: mm hmm
Panserbjorne: out on the fire escape, rain pouring down, you shrieking so loud your neighbors think it's a firebell and call the fire department. :)
Christina: or they start to fuck too.
Christina: i'm going to go think of you and masturbate.
Panserbjorne: oh, that would be nice, too. to be the catalyst.
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmmmmm
Christina: promise you'll try to come soon?
Panserbjorne: as soon as I can humanly manage. :)
Christina: good
Christina: i can't wait to cum on your cock.
Panserbjorne: (probably in the next half hour, since I'll have to run to the restroom to take the edge off here).
Christina: i meant come here, dirty boy
Panserbjorne: and yes, I know that's not exactly what you meant. :)
Christina: then i'll make you cum over and over.
Panserbjorne: and the response is the same. Heh.
Christina: hell's bells
Christina: i'd do you in the parking lot
Christina: skirt
Christina: no underwear
Christina: riding you in the passenger's seat
* Panserbjorne shivers deliciously again.
Christina: i want to hear about you masturbating later, ok?
Panserbjorne: Same goes for you.
Panserbjorne: I want to know what you did to yourself after signing off. :)
Christina: will do, lover
Panserbjorne: mmmmmmmmm
Christina: think of me fingering myself to orgasm while you finger the keyboard

She signed off and I stretched nonchalantly. "Back in a minute, got to use the restroom," I called to a coworker; he looked up briefly and nodded.

I was glad to find the bathroom empty. Talking with Christina had really gotten me worked up and there was an uncomfortable tent in my pants. I headed at an almost dead run into the stall, locked it behind me, and dropped my pants and underwear, taking myself in hand. It didn't take very long before I was panting hard, trying to listen for the bathroom door while stroking myself furiously. I was already so turned on that it was only about a minute before I was grunting and spewing come everywhere. White jets splattered all over the toilet, some on the floor, and one even hit the wall above the toilet. I spent several minutes cleaning up the mess (and myself), tucked myself back in, and returned to work.

Of course, when I got home I sent Christina a nice description of what it had been like when I came, and that started yet another interesting conversation, but that's a story for another time.....

[[A recent post from the enchanting Luna Mauvaise inspired this; she said that I should share a few of my own naughty-fun-at-work stories. This took place a few years ago when I was working the graveyard shift at a company and had little to do except monitor a bank of computer systems for failures. That led to some interesting IM conversations with this young lady, who I regrettably still have not met. The names have been changed and some of the convo has been cut, but otherwise this is word for word.]]