Christiane

I was pre-occupied as I rode the elevator to work yesterday morning. Maybe my sexual troubles were over thanks to the hypnotist that I’d just seen. I told him that my sex life was out of control. I thought constantly of sex, and had sex so often and in such risky situations that it was ruining my life. His technique was to hypnotize me and suggest that I would never think about sex; I would only be aroused if I heard a bell ringing. He then gave me a small bell with a handle. When I was in a situation where sex was possible without getting me into trouble I could shake my bell. This would prevent the random risky sex involvement that had plagued my life for the last few years.

Still thinking about my problems I walked down the corridor and entered our office suite: Industry Psychological Consultants where I worked as a staff Psychologist. For the first five minutes I sat at my desk looking out the window down at the street below. I felt good. Let work begin. Then the phone rang. It was my friend Adrienne calling from the dry cleaners on her cell phone. We talked about having dinner in the evening. Suddenly Adrienne exclaimed, “Where is that damn clerk anyway. I’ve rung this little counter bell three times with no result. Well I’ll try one more time.” The sound of a bell came through the phone line and reverberated in my ear.

A chill washed over me. This was followed by a familiar feeling deep within me. I dropped the phone and had time to emit a weak “oh no!” before I felt the first wave of desire build in my body. My left hand reflexively dived for my crotch, and started to massage that wonderful area down below. Not here you fool, I thought. I ran through the door to the women’s rest room, which had a “Closed For Cleaning” sign on it. Without breaking stride I ran into the office of my boss, Bob Nuland. “Let me use your private restroom; it’s an emergency.” He waved me on, and I plunged into his executive bathroom, and slammed the door. I tore my clothes off and stared at myself in the mirror.

Already my nipples had swollen, and I could see that sexual blush spreading over my body. I watched a hand travel down my stomach and saw several of its fingers disappearing into the furry triangle that sheltered a throbbing vagina. Damn, damn, damn I muttered as I moved my fingers through the wetness of that magnificent cave. The other hand caressed my breasts, and rubbed my reddened nipples. The face that looked back at me in the mirror showed a person who was glassy eyed with arousal. Waves of heat filled my body, and seemed to wash out of it and permeate the bathroom. I was totally in love with myself. The thought “I want to kiss me” popped into my head, and without thinking I was crawling onto the counter between sinks. My head was against the face in the mirror, my tongue slurping the mirror, my hand doing magical things with my pussy. I grabbed a protruding light fixture while rubbing my crotch against the pussy in the mirror. Oh God I love this, I thought. I removed my hand from my treasure patch, listening to the satisfying slurp as it withdrew. The little creature then grabbed my butt cheek and frenzied fingers worked their way toward my asshole. I’m forcing my breasts and crotch against the mirror and rimming my puckering asshole. My movements were becoming spasmodic, too spasmodic as a matter of fact. My gyrations were too much for the light fixture I was holding onto, and it suddenly and noisily came free of the wall. The fixture and I made a backward dive off the counter and we made a rough and loud landing on the bathroom floor. My boss’s concerned voice passed through the door. “Christiane, are you all right in there? What is going on?” “It’s all right, Bob. I just tripped on something. I’ll be right out.”

I was lying on my clothes, my body speckled with plaster dust, my head hurt, and still my twat beckoned me. Somehow the fall turned me on even more. Lust drove both my hands to my clit, a swollen and engorged piece of flesh. I rubbed my thighs together as sensual shock waves made my body undulate with passion. I could feel the tingle of the final stage begin somewhere deep inside. It grew and grew to fill my body with almost unimaginable arousal. My breath came in short gasps now as my fingers made love to my sex hole. Hands rotated back and forth, the free hand bringing my wetness to my mouth where I savored the salt and the smell of my sex juices. I’m lost in my own world now as my muscles, my nerves, and my whole being fight for release. And then it came, a volcanic eruption that blew me apart. My body and mind seemed to swell beyond the confines of the small bathroom. I was no longer in it; I was in another world as my orgasm took possession of me. Each gasp coming from my lips reflected another mighty shock wave of release.

Finally I lay panting, exhausted, dripping sweat and pussy cum all over. Rather a lot of liquid I began thinking. Then I became aware that my back and bottom were soaking wet. I looked up to see water pouring over the counter. Evidently I had nudged on the faucet as I took my sudden plunge to the floor, and now the sink was overflowing. I got to my knees and surveyed my surroundings. Water, plaster, a tangled light fixture and shards of light bulb glass met my eyes. Bob was knocking on the door. I grabbed my soaking wet panty house and dress and put them on. They clung to me. The person in the mirror looked like someone just pulled from a sinking life raft. I squished into my shoes, opened the door, and fixed Bob with a stern look. “You really have some dangerously defective plumbing in there Bob”, I huffed as I mustered as much dignity as I could and walked back to my office.

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