A Kodak Moment


I sit in my office, panty-free, only a single silky layer of material between me and the seat of my chair.  I feel him inside me, wet, slippery, and wonder if his semen will slide out of me, making a wet circle on the back of my skirt, staining the seat.  If, when I stand up to cross the office, everyone will see it.  My pussy clenches, thinking about it, and I feel my own wetness now too, and smell the musky odor of my own arousal mixing with his scent, the scent he has left on me, in me, even though I bathed before I left.  I can’t help myself, I go into the bathroom, lift my skirt, slide my fingers along my puffy, swollen lips, remembering his hands on me, his fingers inside me.  I slip a finger inside myself and gather the moisture I find there, his and mine, and bring it to my mouth.  I taste myself, and him, and remember being on my knees this morning, after, taking him in my mouth so that I could taste his come.
I push my finger deeper into myself, trying to find that spot he grabs, pushes, squeezes, making me hurt and making me throb at the same time.  Of course it doesn’t work for me: I am not the Mean Guy, my body is not fooled.
Now though, I want more.
I turn and sit on the toilet.  These stalls are not closed tightly, there are large gaps between the walls and door, but there is only one other stall and no one else is here…do I dare?
I spread my legs open.  I feel wanton, I feel dirty, I am a slut, sitting on the toilet in my workplace with my legs spread, touching myself.  I imagine texting him with a picture of me just like this…no explanation. I pull my legs farther apart, thrusting my sex up.  I want them spread wide, I want him to spread them wide, to tie them open, exposing me, making me vulnerable, so that he can take and do what he wants, even if it hurts, and I can’t stop him.  I want to feel him opening me, pushing his fingers, his hand, his cock, inside me.  I want to be spread so wide, my pussy a gaping hole, objects shoved inside me, larger and larger until I can’t take it any more.
I am panting now, trying to stifle the sound, pressing my fingers onto my clit, which seems to have engorged to twice its normal size, and then down into my cunt, opening myself, wishing I could see me fucking myself.  Wishing he could see me–
And in that moment, I realize he can.  I get up, straighten my skirt, head back to my office, and get my phone.


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