I wonder if I am falling too deep into this particular rabbit hole – or perhaps the word is actually “diving”, rather than “falling”.. It’s not as though anyone has forced me, in any way – not until I have asked, that is – but this notion of handing over this level of control of my body, my orgasms, my release, to an almost perfect stranger is wild and enticing. I feel.. compelled. Truly, that what I’m asking for is a *need* – it will not do if I don’t have it.
It has already gotten to a point where I brought a sex toy to work today – a smallish vibrator; it fit easily in my pants pocket (which was both wonderful and terrible, later), but a sex toy, nonetheless. The same toy, I might add, that I used just that morning in the name of pleasing another by pleasing myself… but only to a point. I moaned and writhed and desperately walked the razor’s edge, never falling over.. And then shakily cut myself off, fully, before tucking it in my pocket on my way out the door. All of this, to please a person I’ve only chatted to – never met, or even seen. But his (I assume! I am merely trusting, fiercely, that he is as he says – and vice versa, to his credit) words course through my body in an unforeseen and intriguing way. I described, in detail, to this person my morning’s flight of fancy, of fantasy, and am perhaps foolishly thrilled when he approves and praises me.
I am instructed to fondle the toy as I talk to my coworkers, and though a voice in the back of my brain is disconcerted by how easily I might violate their comfort and consent.. Again, I comply eagerly. Similarly, in the middle of my work day, I’m sent to the shared bathroom, to lock myself in a stall, and pleasure him by pleasuring myself.. But only to a point. The vibrator is loud, and again, I am concerned about forcing people to participate in my tawdriness unknowingly.. But very distracted. I somehow come to my senses enough to ask that I am able to turn it off when others are in the bathroom with me, and he agrees, for better or worse. It’s the only bathroom on the floor, so people come in frequently, leaving me biting my lip, finger on the button.. So ready to turn it back on. And each time I do, my hips move, my ass clenches, and I breathe unevenly – I stare at my phone, eager to see more messages.. And also dreading it, knowing soon, I’ll have to turn it off again.
I’m reminded of my limitations – right up to the edge, no further – and force myself to be still. I cannot move against it, despite my wants, his exhortations, but I bear down and endure, as still as I can be, for as long as I can. Somehow, I can pull it away before it’s too late.. Though I *know* how.. I was told, and I obeyed. And similarly, I go back to my desk, toy where instructed, making sure I eat and drink, as instructed, to prepare myself to endure more, under instruction. I am soaked. My nipples are stiff, aching – I squirm in my chair, but somehow settle in and get some things done. At the end of the day, since I’m given the choice, I tuck the toy back into my pants, a reminder of what I’ve done.. What I’m agreeing to do. And by the time I get home, I hurriedly prep (as instructed) – I’m wet again.
Oh I enjoyed this
Oof what a wonderful rabbit hole. Can’t wait to hear about Day 2…