Note from the author

My first article, A Big Stretch, was based on a single conversation with a male Literotica.com (Lit) user. This one is instead an amalgamation of several chats with different Lit members, both male and female. The common factor is that these all took place while I was at work.

These chats often involved both parties acting out some scenario, e.g. meeting in a hotel room, or role-play of some sort. Of course, the idea was to turn each other on, leading to simultaneous masturbation. Occasionally, it was instead a case of each of us simply detailing exactly how we were pleasuring ourselves.

In this piece, I am going to focus entirely on what I was actually doing during the chat, with only oblique references to the other people involved or the specific scenario bring played out. This allows me to combine very different chats.

I use “they” throughout to refer to the other Lit member, reflecting the fact that, at different times, they could be either male or female.

As before, I will use the present tense for stylistic reasons.

Poor Little Emily

I like most things about my job. It’s interesting and varied, it pays well and I have quite a lot of responsibility for someone in their mid-twenties; especially a female (I work in an industry that is sadly still quite male dominated). I run a small team, some of whom are located outside of the US, where I live. I try to take my work seriously and to do a good job for my employers and for my own self-respect. I want to get on and to build a good career for myself.

But, I have a very high libido. Since moving state to take this job, I have many less opportunities to scratch this itch. I don’t know many people here outside of the office. I often work long hours, which doesn’t allow me much time for socializing. Mostly, when I get home, I am too tired to change and go out to a bar. I have tried some dating sites, but they haven’t really worked out for me. I think this is partly as I have sexual tastes which are, shall we say, a little displaced from the center of the bell-curve.

This is where Lit comes in of course. I have met some nice people here, ones who are in a similar place to me on the sexual preferences bell-curve. I have had a lot of fun with Lit boys and girls, sometimes both at the same time. But here’s the thing, some of these people have equally high libidos and they will insist on messaging me when I am at work. I do my best to not read Lit while at the office, but sometimes…

At My Desk

I have been doing a really poor job of ignoring Lit today. Work is a bit slow, which happens from time to time, and I have been struggling to focus on the few, rather mundane, tasks I have to complete. The temptation to check my ‘phone is rather too great. I’m lucky in that my desk backs on to a wall. I am able to see those of my team members who are in today, but no one can look over my shoulder without standing right next to me. Perhaps, in retrospect, this is a bad thing.

I tap my ‘phone. When it recognizes my face, it opens onto an innocent news site. I click on the tabs icon and select Private. The Lit forums appear. I have three new messages. Two are randoms saying “hi”; I politely say “hi” back. The other is from a regular almanbahis playmate, one who knows my peccadilloes. They have sent me two messages. The first is a GIF of a petite blonde girl in school uniform – I have no idea who they had in mind. Her legs are clad in white socks and she has them either aide of her pretty face. A large cock is pounding her ass. I start to feel a little tingly.

The second is a link to a video, topped by the text. “I think that you will enjoy watching” and tailed by “I want to fuck you just like this”. I feel the urge to click the link. I look around me. I might not be overlooked, but it would be pretty obvious that I was watching something. I don’t want to risk it, not here. I search my purse for something, closing my hand around the objects I find. Then I stand, not forgetting my ‘phone, and, as casually as I can, I walk to the restroom.

Stalling For Time

No one is in the restroom. There are four stalls and I pick the last one. With luck, I won’t be disturbed for a few minutes at least. I latch the door and sit down on the closed seat. There is a little ledge on one side and I put the contents of my hand there for later use.

I unlock my ‘phone again and click on the link. The host site appears with a still from the vid and its title. Both have me a little excited. I wriggle my skirt up my thighs and am grateful that I decided to wear hold-ups today, rather than pantyhose. I part my legs slightly. With my right hand I press play, making sure my volume is off. With my left I initiate another type of play.

My Lit friend knows what gets me off. The video is six minutes long, by the time it is finished, my panties are soaked through. I’m glad I keep some extra ones in my desk drawer. But I haven’t cum and now desperately want to. I PM the person responsible for getting me in this state, hoping they are free to play. I tell them about my wet panties and insist that they take responsibility.

Then I wait. Sometimes there is no immediate reply and I am left on my own with my needs. But today I get a “Hi Em” and a lascivious comment about them wanting me to be the girl in the video. They are working at home and want to play too. Game on!

I send a suitably slutty reply and ask for a few minutes to get ready. Rapidly I peel my panties off and add them to the ledge. I unbutton my shirt, but leave it on. I don’t want to get fully undressed in my work restroom. I want to cum and don’t have all day. Luckily, I have what consultants insist on calling an accelerator; the items I had retrieved from my purse earlier. I put the ‘phone down and focus on them.

My Accelerator

My secret is a pair of rather innocuous-looking sprung wire clips. The metal is covered in bright-colored plastic and they are meant for closing food packets. The reason I like them is the springs are much firmer than in regular clothes pegs. Also the jaws consist of two, half inch pieces of thick wire that close hard together. They are of course for my nipples and much firmer than the essentially cosmetic ones you often see. If regular nipple clamps feel like black fly bites, my special ones feel more like bee stings. They are also the ultimate stealth toy; what could be more innocent than some package closers?

I pull my unwired yoga bra up, exposing my modest breasts. I pick up a clamp in my right hand almanbahis giriş and squeeze it slightly open, feeling the strong resistance. I have used them in the last couple of days and my nipples are still tender. I know this is going to hurt. I tweak and pull my right nipple with my left hand. The bruising from before only sensitizes it and makes it harden quicker. I open the clamp wide and place it over my nipple, pushing the open jaws against my soft, puffy areola. I close my eyes, breathe deeply, centering myself. I open my eyes and watch as I slowly release the clamp.

I first feel pressure and then a sharp burning pain. It catches my breath, makes my heart beat faster. I close my eyes and bite my lip. The initial pain widens into a continual throbbing ache. I feel teardrops roll down my cheeks. I screw up my face and my feet do an involuntary series of quick, small stamps. I haven’t heard anyone else come in, let’s hope that’s right. Wow! that smarts.

I get my breath back and pick up the second clamp. I harden my left nipple, getting it ready. Again I take a moment, simultaneously aware of the little fire consuming my right breast. I release the second clamp, but have it too far up my nipple. The pain is unbearable, it feels like it is being cut in half. Instantly I remove it, silently mouthing “oh fuck, oh fuck!”. Tears fill my eyes.

I try again and this time I close it on the same mixture of nipple and areola as with the first clamp. It stings like hell, but is bearable; just. I take a minute to adjust to the doubled and deeply sexual pain. I try to focus it on my clit, to channel it. OK, I can take it. OK, it’s starting to feel good, but it hurts so much as well. I pant softly. I feel close to overwhelmed, but breathe slowly and deeply to calm myself. It’s OK Em, it’s OK.

I have a loop of string tied between the two clamps and bow my head to put this in between my teeth. As I tilt my head back, the clamps get pulled upwards, increasing the burning. That’s good the length is right. I let it go slack again, but allowing the clamps to fall back down again makes me wince, eyes closed. I pant again and collect myself.

With my right hand only, I reactivate my ‘phone and send the laconic message “ready”. My left hand finds my clit and starts to rub. Nipple clamps normally make me cum quicker and harder. I hope this is the case today. Right now, it feels so comforting to play with my pussy, to distract from my aching nipples.

The Main Event

I refresh the page one handed and thank God they have replied. They tell me what they are imagining doing to me and it’s hot. They follow up with another GIF illustrating this. The girl in it looks a bit like me. I want to be her; I want what is being done to her, to be done to me. Closing my eyes, I think how it would feel. I know I would love it. I rub my clit harder and pull with my mouth on my clamp string. The pain in my nipples begins to blend with the excitement between my legs. I dip two fingers into my soaking pussy and start to move them in and out. That feels so good. I tug harder on my clamps.

Using just my thumb, while still frigging myself, I manage to type out some semi-coherent reply. It seems to be well-received and their response comes almost instantly, saying that they want to cum with me. I want that too and push my fingers harder, almanbahis yeni giriş deeper, quicker into my pussy. That’s good, I’m starting to feel things building inside me.

I somehow have the presence of mind to recall that I had a GIF open that would be perfect to share now. My thumb opens the tab, copies the URL, inserts it as the source of a picture and posts it. The petite blonde in the clip is the late Dakota Skye. I always both identified with and desired her, poor Dakota. But no time to be sad now. What she is having done to her is so fucking hot, I can feel I am beginning to lose control.

I refresh the page and my partner has said something so filthy that reading it nearly pushes me over the edge. I thumb-type sloppily and hurriedly, “almost there, you?” I get a reply saying they are close too. I type again…

“I’m going to cum for you angel”

I have to put the ‘phone down. I place it on the ledge, hoping it doesn’t slip off. I scroll back to the image of Dakota. I close my eyes, that image still with me. I am Dakota and my Lit friend is the person with her, the person making both me and Dakota cum hard. With both hands free, I rub my clit furiously and push my fingers deep into my pussy. So close, so close. I tug on my abused nipples, there is no difference between pain and pleasure any more, just intensity.

The warm waves start to flow, they are rising, arching, cresting above me. Just before they break and crash into me, I bite hard and jerk my head back violently. The right clamp pings off, almost immediately followed by the left. A searing pain courses through my chest, just as the waves of pleasure engulf me. The pain magnifies my orgasm, which makes the pain more crystalline, which makes me cum harder. I am caught in a disorienting vortex of ascending sensations and feel such release, such opening of myself.

And then, as must always be the case, the vortex collapses, the elevated feelings abate and I am just little Em once more, sitting in a stall, sweaty, panting and cuddling my injured breasts with crossed arms.

Epilogue

I gather myself together mentally and pick up my ‘phone. Again I use one hand, the other is busy caressing my tender breasts. I tap out a message, aware I am smearing the screen with pussy juice. I tell them that I came hard and pulled off my clamps as I did. I try to clean myself up as best I can, then refresh the screen. They came hard too and thank me. I send my sticky thanks as well and say I’ll hope to cum with them again soon.

I wipe my pussy and try to smooth down my skirt, which to my eyes looks irredeemably creased. There is no way I can wear my panties, so I’ll have to beau naturelle until I can take another break without raising suspicion. I pull down my bra, even the soft silky material hurts as it touches my raw nipples. I button my shirt, retrieve my ‘phone and accessories and dare to leave the stall.

Thankfully no one else is in the restroom. I look at myself in the mirror. I think that I look like someone who has just cum. I wash my hands and then splash water on my face. I use moist hands to try to fix my hair. To me, my nipples seem to protrude like bullets and my skirt is a mess, but I figure it’s just me being hyper-aware of my appearance. I scrunch up my damp panties and secure them under the elastic of one of my stockings. I conceal my clamps in a closed fist. Slightly unsteadily I walk back to my desk. No one bats an eyelid and I transfer my panties and clamps to my purse.

I log back on to my PC. I have a Teams call in 15 minutes. I smile to myself. Looks like I will be doing it without any panties.