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General Copyright Disclaimer:
The following story is an original piece of fiction. Any similarities between these characters and persons in real life are purely coincidental. This work of fiction is copyright (c) TZ.
Content Disclaimer
This story is rated NC-17 for sexual situations and language.
This story contains descriptions of a masturbatory fantasy of one woman for another woman. This story is intended for a mature audience with an open mind. If it is illegal for you to read this story for any reason at all, please close this web page and find something that is legal for you to read.
Read at your own risk. The following story has depictions of fetishism, more specifically, fisting. Please do not read if this is not to your liking.
Your opinion would be greatly appreciated. I can be reached via email at TZ.
Workday Interlude
by TZ
Copyright November
2001
It would have been easier to deal with it if the day had been a
busy one, but it wasn't, and she invaded my thoughts constantly.
She was a new colleague at work, an assistant something or other
that meant power suits and cocktails over lunch with boring
clients. I probably would not have noticed her at work on any
given day except that I had also had run into her at the local
lesbian bar on an off-night.
Whereas she was stiff and cold in her suits in the office, at the
bar she was breathtaking in leather and silk, exuding an aura of
confidence and predatory sexuality. I probably would have avoided
her or even walked out of the bar when I first saw her walk in,
but her lanky legs and intense blue eyes trapped me where I sat
at the bar. I had been talking to the bartender, as it was early
and she had enough time to carry on a conversation.
My eyes connected with hers and her lips curled up into a small
smirk. I knew that I'd been caught. My preference, a secret
guarded carefully at work, was now out of the closet. I watched
her intently as the bartender went over to her to get her drink
order. She was average in height, with shockingly blonde hair and
those eyes that could win a client with their determined will.
With a last knowing glance in my direction, she left the bar and
found a table in the corner.
That night was a measure of pure torture as I found myself drawn
to watching her with even more frequency as the evening wore on.
She sat by herself, casually and almost insolently at her dark
table, as if measuring each woman with calculated interest. She
left alone around midnight, perhaps not finding any of the locals
that night worth a toss in the sheets.
That following Monday I dreaded seeing her in the office, afraid
that she might out me before everyone. Even in this time of gay-rights
progress, I was still afraid of losing my job. I caught only a
glimpse of her, though, as she was walking into a board room, a
sultry flame of ice standing out among so many drab men in dark,
tailored suits.
She caught me staring at her and again, I was on the receiving
end of that smirk. I blushed and mentally shook myself. It was
the first time that I would find myself staring blankly at
nothing while my mind pictured her hovering over me with those
eyes of hers shooting blue sparks, dominating and mastering my
body to her will.
As the morning dragged on, I kept looking for something and
anything to keep me busy, but for my part of the moneymaking
process, things were slow. I was gradually becoming a body of raw
nerves as her eyes invaded my mind and sent my thoughts drifting
into a pornographic realm. At one point, I'd caught myself with
my hand wandering discreetly between my legs as I stared at a
promotional campaign poster on the wall. By lunchtime, I was
incredibly aroused and quite positive that I had soaked through
my panties to my dark cotton slacks.
I knew that I couldn't go on for the rest of the day like that. I
had to do something to relieve the tension that had built up in
my body. It was either that, or go insane with lust before
quitting time. And so, as I marked my time sheet at noon for my
lunch hour, I quickly made my way through the office building to
the adjacent parking garage. My hands shook as I unlocked my car
door. Once inside, I locked the door and rested my head against
the steering wheel. As I thought of where I could go, my hand
started by itself.
Moaning as I cupped my aching pussy through my slacks, I quickly
glanced up to make sure that I had a modicum of privacy. There
was very little activity at all with the exception of one woman
that looked to be in a hurry to get something done on her off
time. The executive level was two below the one where I parked,
where people came and went constantly throughout the day. Most of
the people that did the grunt work like me stayed to take their
breaks at the company cafeteria. I was alone, at least for the
moment, and I took advantage of it, unable to wait until I could
find a more secluded spot.
Before I could decide the wisdom of it, my trembling fingers were
unzipping my slacks. I sighed raggedly as they slipped inside and
breached the barrier of my wet panties, sliding under the
waistband. I was as wet as I had imagined, and I spent a moment,
privately thrilled that my body was so passionate. And then I
remembered who it was that had started this fire within me. I
closed my eyes for a moment and pictured her piercing eyes and
her sensuous lips. I cursed when my clit jumped under my fingers
and I knew that I needed more to satisfy my need.
Pulling my hand from my pants, I grabbed for a fast-food napkin
on the seat next to me and dried my fingers. Clumsily, I removed
my jacket and placed it over my lap. With another look around the
deserted garage, I reached under the jacket and undid my pants,
pulling them down to my knees in my greediness to plunge two
fingers deep inside of myself. As I fucked myself with my left
hand, my right began a wild dance on my clit and I was soon
grinding in rhythm with their motions. And still, it wasn't
enough.
I inclined my seat and closed my eyes in a desperate attempt to
reach my orgasm. Spreading my legs as far as I could, I inserted
another finger into my soaked pussy. I opened for it easily and
after a few thrusts, could feel myself widening for more. Sweat
began to bead on my forehead and upper lip as I tucked my pinky
and carefully impaled myself on four fingers. The leather seat
under me was becoming slick with my juices, making it easy for me
to rock back and forth on my hand.
As I masturbated like that, my dancing fingers never giving up
their rhythm on my clit, my left hand thrusting faster with every
passing second, a vision of her popped into my fantasy. She was
kneeling over my naked body, her hand replaced my own as she
finger-fucked me. Her eyes burned into mine and her delicious
mouth uttered of obscene pleasures found between my legs. My
pussy loved her vulgar talk and sucked at her fingers, begging
for more.
She leaned over me and her sharp teeth bit at my nipples, one
each in turn. She was working her hand slowly, stretching me wide.
I only knew of that vaguely, though, as I was caught up in the
inferno that was slowly disintegrating my body from the inside
out. I was brought out of my thoughts of incineration by her
voice purring in my ear.
"I knew when I first saw you that you needed to be fucked
like this," she said in a whisper that ended with a growl.
"You needed a woman that knows how to fill up that hungry
cunt of yours."
I didn't understand the inflection of her tone, but she was right
about me being filled. I'd never before felt so full, and the
second that her hand began to move inside of me, I knew that I
was being fucked in a way that I'd never experienced before. With
some confusion, I lifted myself to look between my legs. All I
could see was her wrist as the rest of her hand was inside of me,
slowly thrusting and stroking. I lay back with a groan and
shuddered as the reality hit me. I didn't think of myself as a
woman turned on by fisting, but I was turned on by her and true
to her word, she knew how to do it.
The slow burn that had begun deep in my belly was fanned even
higher when she lowered her mouth to enter the play. Her tongue
circled and pressed against my clit, flicking and rubbing it
until my own fingers were buried deep in her blonde hair and my
hips were rocking wildly. I spiraled so high that I was unable to
breathe or think, but as I reached that glorious climax, I
screamed out her name.
When I came to, I was alone in my car, as I had been the entire
time. I saw that the jacket that had been hiding my secret
pleasures was now askew, as I had thrashed so much in my orgasm.
I withdrew my hands from between my legs and wiped them on the
napkin before straightening the jacket for enough privacy to redo
my pants. Once I was presentable, though slightly more wrinkled
than before, I fixed my seat and unlocked my door. For a few
minutes, I caught my breath and closed my eyes to let the fantasy
linger for a while longer. Once I had my wits about me, I stepped
out of the car and slowly slipped on my jacket. I smiled as a
twinge between my legs reminded me of how unbelievably daring I'd
been with my licentious interlude.
I licked my lips as I walked through the garage back to the
office. On my way through the maze of corridors, I stopped in the
ladies' restroom to wash the evidence of my self-pleasuring from
my hands. I nearly stumbled in shock as I saw the erotic object
of my fantasy casually fixing her hair in front of the mirror.
Heat stole up high on my cheeks as I cleared my throat and forced
my legs to carry me to the sink. The faster that I washed my
hands, the sooner I could forget about what I'd imagined.
Quickly, I strode over to the sink and reached for the faucet,
but her cool voice abruptly stilled my movement.
"You're back early."
In the time that it took me to foolishly look at my watch and
realize that I still had fifteen minutes to go before I was due
back at my desk, she had turned to me and captured my left hand.
I wanted to tear away from her, but I was caught still, drawn my
her mesmerizing gaze. I could only stare entranced as she raised
my hand to her mouth and drew my index finger deep inside. Her
tongue swirled around it and her teeth scraped its length as she
withdrew it to nibble on the tip.
"I like how you scream my name," she purred, "but
I promise you'll do it better when I make it real."
She released me then and resumed her icy manner. When she reached
the door, I turned and braced myself on the sink. My hands
clenched the cold porcelain and I fought to control my breathing.
I looked up to see if I looked as unglued as I felt. I found
myself staring into her eyes reflected back to me in the mirror.
"I'll see you at the bar Friday night," she promised
with her usual smirk before leaving me to find my shattered
composure.
Remembering why I had gone into the bathroom in the first place,
I turned on the cold water and began to wash my hands. With a
mixture of annoyance and desire, I noticed that the maddening
trickle between my legs had begun anew.
The End
