“Fine,” the girl agreed. She took the bag, opened one of her file drawers, and crammed the whole package in way in the back.
They talked for a bit longer, and Adams took a quick blood sample, but the purpose of his visit had been served. Lauren had a tool for recovery, even if she was a bit wary of it. It had been a few weeks since she’d even masturbated, and Lauren had never been a disciple of regular self-pleasure – even before the Cortland Menswear acquisition had consumed her life. She certainly had never used a vibrator. But Adams had a point. If the multiple orgasms she’d suffered from that morning were to strike while she was in the middle of a meeting, she had no way of stopping them. At least, this way, she might be able to pre-empt her body in the privacy of the women’s bathroom.
Ginger poked her head in the office a few minutes before Adams left, and announced she and a few others would be ordering lunch from the deli downstairs. She offered to pick something up for the psychiatrist, but the naked blonde insisted that doctor wouldn’t be staying. So, though Lauren had hoped to spend her lunch perusing the contract further, Adams’s departure was coupled with a visit from Rachel Wilks. The redhead set out her own lunch across from Lauren’s at Lauren’s desk, looking to provide her friend with some level of social companionship.
“Are you wearing…?” Rachel asked as she entered the office, pointing at the black and white garter still occupying real estate on Lauren’s thigh.
“Oh, god,” the blonde gasped, sliding it down her leg. Make-up, heels, and jewelry were enough; she didn’t need to be slipping on garters and fishnet stockings to call even more attention to her immodest state.
“What’d the doctor say?” the redhead asked as she opened up her salad.
Lauren hesitated, and offered, “Not much. He thinks if I can bring my anxiety down, I might be able to put some clothes back on tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow? Really?”
“Maybe.”
“Did he have any suggestions on how?”
Hesitation again. “Yeah, but….come on. I think he and I both know what’s going to have to happen for my nerves to calm down. I’ve got to be able to get this contract up to McIntosh and be done with it.”
Rachel nodded. “You thought at all about next week? You going to take a little time off?”
“I haven’t really thought that far ahead,” Lauren answered. On the one hand, she could certainly use a break from the office. She hadn’t been home since Tuesday morning. “But I think I should come in, even if it’s slow. Show up in a pantsuit or just standard business attire, just to drive home the fact that I don’t always work in the nude. You know, put this out of people’s memories.”
“Right.”
Lauren took a bite of her turkey wrap, an errant dab of mayonnaise collecting on her lip, and then dropping onto her left tit. She wiped it off with her napkin, as Rachel watched. “No stains, at least,” the blonde offered.
They chewed in silence for a few minutes after that, neither sure of what to say. Eventually, though, Lauren started to talk shop, asking Rachel about the crosschecking she’d been doing that morning on the stock purchase agreement. The other girl was happy to oblige, even if her eyes did linger a bit too long on the blonde’s left breast.
Lauren’s mind began to drift. She knew what Rachel was doing. She’d been over the wording herself, two or three times. Rachel was providing more a final proof than anything else, and Lauren would be surprised if she turned up anything of any substance. But, she wanted to talk about anything besides her session with Adams, anything besides her nakedness.
Could there actually be any truth to what Adams had said? If she were to vibrate herself towards orgasm a couple of times that evening, after everyone had cleared out, could it be possible that she could actually get dressed tomorrow morning? Sure, she’d be stuck wearing whatever tank top or miniskirt she could find in the big box of lingerie under her desk, but at this point, wouldn’t even just a bra and a pair of panties be a step up?
Lauren pictured herself in the red hip-huggers, and in a matching demi-cup bra that may or may not have even been in the box. She could even picture where the set had appeared that spring in the catalog, adorning the slender body of a brunette supermodel who had positioned herself alluring against the side of a pool table in a crowded bar. If the Victoria’s Secret catalog was borderline pornography, the Eve Intimates catalog tended to bring the border itself into question. While Tyra Banks, Heidi Klum, and Gisele Bundchen always appeared to be modeling the latest Victoria’s Secret had to offer in some non-descript beach house, Eve Intimates models found themselves standing in their bras and panties in pubs and restaurants, riding around in the back of a limousine in nothing more than a tight-fitting teddy, or showing off their corsets and garter belts in an airport terminal, a hay-filled barn, or empty beach. More than once had the FCC pulled one of their advertising campaigns from TV for being “way over line,” and the catalog featured enough half-naked women in suggestive enough poses that, like Abercrombie & Fitch’s catalog, it came with a “mature content” warning.
Lauren wasn’t at the pool table in the bra and panties. She was, instead, leaning up against the copy machine directly across from her office. Hair done up. Dangerous, stiletto heels. Large, ostentatious jewelry. Her bra was just a bit too small, her exaggerated breasts a risk to pop out at any given moment. The hip-huggers were just a bit low, showing off the distinct line of her pelvis. And could that be…? No! Could it? Just a hint, a wisp, or pubic hair peeking over the waistband in the front?
Even if she’d been naked in the office on Wednesday and Thursday, there was something undeniably just as sexy, if not more so, about the sight of Lauren in red lingerie. There was an element of teasing, an implied seduction, in the sexy lace panties and bra. Her sexuality was on display, not just the lewd presentation of her naked nipples and cunt. Maybe, given the fantasy, Lauren might be better off going bare again on Friday even if a bra and panties were a possibility — the image she had of herself was just too, too sexually charged.
Fantasy Lauren risked a quick glance up and down the hallway. No one was coming. She lifted the photocopier’s lid, and with a quick reach around her back, undid her bra straps. Nipples peeking through her fingers, Lauren cupped her breasts. The bra itself was discarded, tossed casually into the recycling bin. The blonde, topless once more, placed her breasts face-down on the clear glass, pressed the large green button to her right, and emitted a soft moan as the copier sprung to life. Her tits were illuminated by a single strip of warm, white light, Lauren turned on just that much more by the machine’s warmth and its gentle hum. One after another, black-and-white versions of her tits, mashed against the copier, slid from the machine.
In Lauren’s fantasy, she risked another glance up and down the hall. Still no one. Smiling wickedly, she backed up to the copier, and used her arms to pull herself seated up onto the glass. She tugged the crotch of her panties to the right, sighing to herself as her pussy lips, already moist and in danger of smearing against the clear glass, rested against the warm, smooth surface. She reached for the copy button, and the machine whizzed to life. The Xeroxes themselves were what she’d been going for, but Lauren was treated to the warm, penetrating light of the copier, and the steady, gentle vibrations that the machine gave off. She moaned, sexual electricity shooting through her body.
“Oh, no!” she squealed, her legs spread and her lips exposed. She was going to cum.
“Oh, no,” Lauren whined, back in her office. She had a mouthful of turkey and not even the security of a pair of red, lace panties. She was going to cum.
Rachel had landed on a tangent, talking about how her fist job in high school had actually been as a store clerk for Eden, Evelyn Apparel’s version of the GAP or Old Navy. As Lauren’s breathing became a bit more labored, though, Rachel lost interest in her own story.
“Are you alright?” she asked.
“You’ve…” Lauren’s chest heaved. “You’ve got to go.”
“Lauren!” the redhead stood, getting panicked. “Lauren! Lauren! Is it happening again? Are you okay?”
The blonde crossed her legs, hoping that might help. Instead, the pressure from her inner thighs against her pulsating pussy only seemed to make things worse. She clapped a hand over her own mouth, terrified that she was going to emit some sort of ululation that would give herself away.
“I’ve got to go get somebody!” Rachel reached for the door.
“NOOO!!!” Lauren yelped. She whispered loudly, uneager to alert attention from Ken Fuji in the next office over. He might have been down in the conference room, or at lunch, but he might not be. “No, no, no! Just go! Just go!”
“Lauren, I’m not going to leave you like this! Are you having some sort of reaction again? Is it the heels? Do you need me to take your jewelry off?”
“No, I –” she began, but a wave of sexual pleasure washed over her. “I…I…I…I’m fine.” Another pause, for another wave. “I…I…I…don’t need to take them off. It’s not a reaction.”
She puckered her lips, doing her very best to control her breathing. She sounded, though, as if she were practicing Lamaze, each breath huffed and puffed as Lauren tried to rein in the bliss emanating from her pussy. Her heart was beating faster, her body was beginning to quake, and Lauren felt a bead of sweat trickle down her back. She uncrossed her legs, bracing them on the floor for stability, and clutched the side of her desk with her hands for the same.
“Lauren? Lauren?!!”
“Oooooh,” Lauren cooed in response, her eyelashes fluttering.
“What? What’s happening?”
“Ungh,” the girl grunted, biting her lip as she did so. Fuck it. If Rachel wasn’t going to leave, there was nothing Lauren could do. Her entire body convulsed, and the girl arched her spine. “I’m…I’m…I’m….cummmmming….”