Distracted, she sat at her desk staring out the window into the street. The fingers of one hand lightly tracing her naked collarbone. The other hand trailing a light path from denim clad knee to upper thigh.
Her phone vibrated.
You seem tense. Relax baby. Why don't you take a break? Let your hands really wander, to the place your mind has been all morning.
She was tempted. Very tempted. And needing. Wanting to touch herself, just for a minute.
She entered the stall and deftly unzipped her jeans. Her fingers slid inside black lace panties, reaching further and further until they met wetness. She gasped.
Does it feel good beautiful? Wouldn't you like to be touched by my tongue? Picture me right now, between your legs, hands on your ass, my tongue probing your hard clit. You're so wet aren't you?
She reached inside her bra and brushed a thumb across her hardened nipple.
I come up from between your legs and grasp your wrists, holding them above your head, kissing you hard. Can you feel how hard I am for you? I want to claim you.
She'd found a rhythm now. Right hand rubbing against her clit, soaked in her own juices. Left hand frantically squeezing her breast and tweaking her nipple. The sensations were heightened knowing she had to hurry when she could usually take her time, and be silent when she preferred being vocal.
I slide in so effortlessly don't I baby? Feel me enter you. Thrusting, taking you. I want you to cum for me. Now. Cum. Now.
The silent orgasm shook her. She stifled her screams and bit her lip while her sex convulsed in wave after wave of delicious release. Thighs trembling, breathing shallow and desperate, she leaned back against the stall door, composing herself.
Thank you, she typed.
He'd made her cum in a bathroom stall from all the way across the country. Count THAT as a first, she thought, grinning as she walked down the hall. Today was shaping up.