Lunch Break

Erin Pim

A highly sexed woman has trouble refraining from masturbating at work, especially when a female co-worker becomes the object of her affection. Not to mention, this co-worker has suddenly become curious of her frequent trips to the washroom stall. She can’t stop thinking about Dana’s glorious breasts, but is desperate to keep anyone from work from knowing her dirty little secret. What’s a hyper sexed girl to do?

I have a high sex drive. I can’t even get through the work day without masturbating. Much like a cigarette break, I have to do it to relax, clear my mind, refocus. I usually do it in a washroom stall at our office building. It’s only eleven o’clock, and already, I feel myself getting stressed and overwhelmed.

“I’m going on break,” I call over the cubicle at my coworker Dana. She is busty, but always wears a cardigan buttoned up all the way, and her hair in a tight bun. She is always courteous to me, but I always hoped we would become closer. I understand, though.

“I’ll be back in five,” I call over my shoulder.

I see her exchange a glance with Todd, who is leaning over his own cubicle into hers. They no doubt wonder where I go, or what I do; I’m sure it’s a topic of conversation. The odd time, they ask, “Where were you this lunch break? We didn’t see you.” I just tell them that I prefer to spend my breaks alone. This has alienated me, as you can imagine. I never go out after work either, because I usually rush home to masturbate as well. Add to that: once when I wake up, and once before bed, which, on a regular day, makes it an even 4. I find Dana becoming more, and more suspicious of my secret life. It doesn’t help that I had a dream about her recently.

I’ve never thought of her in an overt sexual way, but I dreamt that we were in bed together, like a regular couple curled up for the night in each other’s’ arms. Then, she started touching me. But, I don’t wake up completely; I remain in the confusing state of half sleep. I only vaguely feel her cool hand run over my side; against my upper thigh, then hip, then the dip down to my waist, up to my ribcage. I hear myself moan, but only in the way a dozing lover communicates to her partner to let her go back to bed. I can’t speak, and am paralyzed by the weight of slumber. I feel her hand then drift to my breasts, and can feel my nipples stiffen at her touch. The coolness of her hand gives me goosebumps, and I struggle to stay awake; to stay with her. Her hand runs down my stomach to my mons, and it appears that she dives between my legs only to warm it, like a lover warming up her feet on the other. Suddenly, she’s inside me. But, the touch remains elusive and far away, and I fight to stay awake. She only barely tickles my g-spot, and I crave for her to massage me deeper, faster, harder so much that I almost drawn her in. I picture myself pulling at her fingers to keep them inside me. I open myself up to her, become so receptive to the orgasm, that she need only breathe on me to make me come. But, she doesn’t.

It’s because I can’t stay awake. She is offended. Now, I realize that if I wake up, she’ll be gone. I try to explain to her that I need to stay here. That I need to stay asleep. Suddenly, she turns into the Dana I see every day at work. She is fully clothed in her restrictive sweater, and her hair is pulled tightly into a bun. I tell her that she’ll never fuck me while we’re awake. Let me fuck you now! Let me fuck you while I’m asleep! Please!

Talk about a stress dream. That’s got to be it. Just a little sexual anxiety.

I take a quick look around, and when the coast is clear, I duck into the washroom. No one is in here at the moment, which is a blessing. I’m quite quiet when I do it, but it makes me nervous that someone could discover me. It’s a can of worms that I’d rather not open. Who knows; it may not only have social implications, but my job could actually be in jeopardy. I tug down my stockings, raise my skirt, and sit on the toilet. I take a deep, relaxing breath to get myself in the proper mindset. I usually think of an image from a porn video I recently watched, but today, I find myself thinking about Dana. The flood gates have opened, and now I can’t stop thinking about her, awake or asleep. Her full breasts, and the way her sweater stretches over them. Today, the material gapes between the frontmost two buttons, but she has safety pinned it shut. Under all that, I picture her wearing a fifties’ torpedo bra, and a garter belt, with thigh high stockings pinned to it. I touch myself, and am not surprised to find myself already wet. Today, I picture her posing, as a fifties’ pin-up might. Her skirt getting caught in the elevator, with an embarrassed pout on her face. The button popping on her sweater, revealing her lace bra underneath. A surprised look, this time; her hands jutting up to close it. I rub my pussy with long strokes, that go all the way down to the opening of me, and draw moisture back up to my clit. It doesn’t take long; I’m practically an expert at this. I feel an orgasm coming already. I hear the door, and someone come into the room, but it’s too late to stop now. It almost seems in slow motion, as I continue rubbing in these long movements, slightly thrusting into my hand, tilting my pelvis forward, as I do so. I don’t speed up, as I feel something very intense and explosive arriving from these slow, controlled strokes. It’s coming, oh god, oh god! Nothing but a small sound escapes my mouth; my body shuddering and convulsing for a moment, then is still. Time again appears normal. I quietly take a deep, slow breath, to recover.

I open my eyes, to see Dana staring at me through the crack of the stall door. I gasp, my heart in my throat. Her jaw is dropped open, her eyes wide. I scramble to pull up the tights from around my ankles. “Dana! It’s not what it looks like! Wait!” I burst out of the stall. But, before I can say anything more, she rushes out the door, leaving it swinging behind her.

The next day, I try to hold off masturbating while at work.

I usually go into a washroom stall at lunch or earlier, but it’s almost two o’clock, and I haven’t yet. I’m going crazy. I don’t think I can make it until the end of the day. But, everywhere I go, I feel Dana’s eyes on me. I even took my lunch break in the cafeteria today; and sat, completely visible to Dana and my other colleagues, clearly not jerking off. What more can I do? They talked in hushed tones, glancing over at me to punctuate the end of every sentence. I can only imagine what a freak they think I am, and I consider my days at this office, severely limited. I hang my head, feeling depressed. Hmm, I know what would cheer me up... getting off! Ugh.

Back in my cubicle, I think of yesterday, when Dana caught me masturbating in the washroom stall. I picture it in her perspective; what she saw, while silently watching me through the crack of the door. Me, with my stockings around my ankles, skirt lifted, blouse intact, but with hard nipples visible through it, sensually rubbing my clit with my eyes closed, head tilted back, mouth slightly open. Did she see my orgasm approaching; my breath quicken, my body tensing? Did it excite her; was she wet, couldn’t she pry her eyes away? Oh, shit. I am so turned on.

That’s it. I have to! Rather than calling over the partition to Dana, I quietly beeline it to the washroom. As I turn towards the door, I see her jump out of her seat, and rush towards me. Shit.

“Dana, I’m going on break!” I call, as I speed walk towards the stairs. But, she’s still on my tail. As I descend the stairs, I can hear her heels clicking just a flight behind me. I crash through the exit, and keep my pace as I hustle through the parking lot towards my car. But, what am I going to do once I get there? How fast do you think you can come? In the ten seconds it will take for Dana to reach the car? I fumble with my keys, already hearing her slam the heavy exit door.

“You can’t leave the premises except on lunch break!!” She calls, jogging up to the car. I turn around, exasperated.

“Dana, what do you want from me?!” Speechless for a moment, she catches her breath.

“I... didn’t tell anyone.”

“You didn’t?”

“No. And, I’m not going to.”

“Okay... So, that’s why you were following me? Just to tell me that?” She’s wearing a pained expression. Her tits are still as miraculous as ever.

“I’ll tell you in the car.”

I unlock it, get into the driver’s seat; her, in the passenger. She hangs her head, avoiding eye contact.

“Is everything alright?” I venture. She looks up at me with large, wet eyes. And leans forward, kissing me on the mouth. I remain immobile, like in the dream, due to pure shock. Then, my desire takes over. Her lips are soft and warm, tasting of lipstick. She doesn’t use her tongue, but I give her mine. I immediately reach for her breasts, needing two of my hands to properly fondle just one. I can feel the large nipples even through the layers of her cardigan. I inch towards the back seat, our lips locked, and she crawls with me, following. I sit beside her, reaching under her skirt, between her legs. She is warm, I rub her, over her underwear, while continuing to kiss her wetly. My pussy floods moisture just touching her. She unbuttons her sweater, her blouse, and I finally get to behold her fantastic tits. My desire for her is unmistakable, as every part of me positively comes alive, from my neck, to my breasts, to between my legs. I kiss her creamy skin, adoringly, worshipping each breast, coddling them with my face, before I pull down her bra, and try for the nipples. I finger them, and she arches her back, wanting more. I enthusiastically take each one into my mouth, flicking them with my tongue, gently sucking them, making out with them. With my other hand, I move her underwear to the side, revealing her wet, silky pussy. I find her clit with my finger, and gently play with it, until she starts to moan steadily. I move beneath the seat, onto the floor, and pull her hips towards me. I go down on her, vigorously licking, sucking, flicking, kissing her clit, while massaging, teasing the opening of her with my hand. She lays back, arching, her lovely tits falling to each side. I reach up and touch them, as I lick her. She starts to moan quicker, when I lightly brush the nipples with the palm of my hands, while I’m down on her. I keep it up, until she buckles, and cries out, “Jesus!!”

I get off the floor, and sit beside her, lifting my hips to lower my panties. I lift my own skirt, and touch myself; as I watch her lying there, completely satisfied, blouse undone, beautiful breasts exposed, underwear on the seat beside her. She smiles, content to see me get myself off. As usual, it doesn’t take me long.

We spend a few minutes bathing in post orgasmic glow, before straightening and buttoning ourselves back up, to go back into the building.

Upstairs, before parting to go back to her cubicle, she says, “Productive meeting,” without any sign of innuendo, and she’s gone.

That was so hot, I already feel like getting off again.