Bzzmmm… That familiar hum got softer as Barbara ran the smooth, white plastic over her naked breasts, muffled when he sank it between them. The vibration sank deep into her chest, ringing in her throat, in the back of her jaws, even the skin on her face.

Barbara held her hand in front of her breast, fingers splayed and rigid as he raked her hard nipple repeatedly, increasing her own excitement, her self-administered and self-satisfied lust. The multiple little thuds made her nipples even harder, even the one she wasn’t touching. But when she did, it reacted with predictable enthusiasm.

Everything about it was becoming predictable.

She worked her own breasts hard, squeezing and rubbing while she pushed that humming white wand down to her gyrating hips, legs parting, knees upraised.

Bzzzmmmmmmmmm…

Barbara arched her bare shoulders, one reaching up to her ear, head turning to give her own sweet skin a kiss, imagining it coming from a lover, a friend, a partner.

Lost in her thoughts, the lover she imagined returned to her from fantasies long held both secret and treasured. She never saw his face, which Barbara knew was some deliberate device of her own imagination, and she didn’t fight it.

In a lot of ways, she never wanted to know what he looked like. He was not John Gallen or anybody she knew or had ever known or would ever know. He was a concept. A beautiful fantasy and mystery that was better left unsolved.

Bzzzzzzzzzzmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…

Barbara rubbed the end of the vibrator in a tight circular pattern over her firm little vaginal mound: a knot of muscle at the top of her pussy, where her labia met, where her G-spot hid from most of the clumsy or timid men who went in overeager search of it and often didn’t survive the journey. ‘Round and ‘round, just the right amount of downward pressure, in just the right spot, creating the same reaction it always did.

Works every time, she thought with a little grin. But the grin didn’t last for that very same reason, echoing in her brain: every time.

Barbara’s legs flexed and she was quickly on her knees, the change of position creating a rush of adrenalin her body savored, a switching up of directions that only cranked up her body’s reaction to her self-seduction.

The change in position created a change in reaction, something the men she’d known had never learned. But on her knees on the bed, Barbara could waggle her hips, swinging them in slow circles as she followed with that willing vibrating slave, never losing contact, pushing in deeper, her clit reaching out to embrace it and enjoy the vibrant vibrations for itself.

Deeper in, and that vibration roared even lower, spiraling down into her pelvis, bones humming, tendons stretching. Her knees slid farther apart on the sweat-slicked sheets, the muscles of her thighs stretching even as the muscles along the backs of her calves contracted—feet rolling, toes clenching. Her left hand squeezed one breast, then the other, even slapping them just a bit while she ground that fabulous phallus in and out, smearing her own juices around her mound, her abdomen, her firm and clenching labia, hungry for something they just couldn’t find.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…

But Barbara was used to settling, and she was used to satisfying herself in ways which had made her expert. She’d spent hours at a time in the pursuit, over many lonely and unsatisfying years. She pressed the vibrator’s tip just right against the side of her clit, letting the shaft of the wand hum against her mound, shooting straight to her G-spot behind it and to her left. The combination always sent her on the road to a quick orgasm, though the slow wind-down was often a more of a lingering distraction than refreshing release.

But she’d have it, one way or the other, and Barbara fell forward into her pillow with a muffled scream, clenching her legs tight around the vibrator, fingers nearly tearing her nipples off her reddening breasts, slapping them and spasming on the mattress, faster and louder, the pillow less and less effectual.

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm…

Her own muffled cry joined the monotone drone of that untiring plastic tube. Rrrrrrghghghghghghghnhnhnhnhnhnh…

Rub and press, hum and push and hump, the right combination came and went a thousand times a second, back and forth in a perfect imbalance, waddling her way toward her solitary climax.

Barbara’s other hand dove in for the kill, fingers rubbing up and down her clit while she drove that vibrator tip deep down onto her mound, the combined effects giving birth to her sputtering, splashing orgasm, growing in strength and readiness and willingness.

Bzzzzzmmmmmm…rrrrghghgh…

Barbara buried her face deeper into the pillow, screaming louder to encourage her own reaction, as if she were cumming with her lungs and her throat and her tongue and her mouth and every other part of her body, every bit of effort and attention fixed on that oncoming orgasm—marking its rise, feeling its primitive power, a force older than her body, older than her species, as old as life itself. And for a brief moment she was tuned into all that power—a fearless and powerful place deep within her that raged with ancient hunger and unquenchable thirst.

Bzzzzzzzzmmmmmmmmm…rrrrrrrrghghghnhnhnhnhnhnh…

It came hard and fast, making Barbara’s jaws clench, eyes clamping shut, hands an unseen blur in her crotch, faster and deeper, pressure greater to match that percolating pond of genes and juices, roiling and boiling, hitting her hard from within. Harder, faster, fingers pushing in to add zest to her zeal and make her clit dance with reacting nerves. Squeezing herself hard now, her thumb outside and her index and middle finger within, she milked herself of her own orgasm, too hard but not caring, craving the clenching discomfort of her pulsing pussy.

Bzzzzzzzzzmmmmmmmm…

rrrrrrrrghghghghghghnhnhnh…

Barbara let the vibrator fall away, slick with her juices, trailing it along her quivering thighs, legs pulling back with electrical reactions, bursts of energy zapping her from within—tiny lightning bolts of pleasure. But they faded, a gradual withdrawal of chemicals in her blood and brain, coursing through her body, collecting on the surface of her skin.

Her heartbeat slowed, her body laying flat against the mattress, head turning to draw in a deep breath of relaxing, refreshing air. Her own musk rose up around her, a halo of safety and security and the calm satisfaction and release from an otherwise overactive mind.

The next day Barbara arrived at the office early, eager to get back to work. But John’s grim, dark face squelched her morning ambition, and when he sat down at his desk in front of her there was no avoiding the conversation they were about to have. Phones rang from the bullpen, fingers clicking on keyboards.

“Looks like the Longshadows case is a no-go.”

Barbara looked up from her computer monitor. “Why?”

“Returns came up clean. We may even owe them money. But as for anything criminal, there’s just no there there.”

“God, I hate that expression.” Barbara turned back to the monitor, her head shaking slowly as she failed to let go of the new information or the Longshadows case. “You know, those people are just glorified pimps and whores.”

“That’s not our department. If the Feds can’t bust ‘em on that, and we can’t get ‘em on evasion, what can I tell you?” Barbara returned her attention to the computer, but John looked over across the two desks, peering into her expression with new curiosity and concern. “What difference does it make?”

“Hhhmmm? What? No, it…it doesn’t make any difference to me at all. Why should it?”

“That’s a good question.”

“It’s just another case.”

“Exactly,” John said. “And our job is to keep honest people out of jail.”

“Those people aren’t innocent, John, none of them. Not that whore or her expat boyfriend.”

John peered even deeper into Barbara’s secret heart, hidden behind her eyes. “They’re just taxpayers to us, Barbara.”

“Right, no, that’s…that’s right, John, just taxpayers. Well, he’s not. Maybe there’s something there—”

“Let it go, Barbara.”

“How can you be so casual about it, John? This was a career-making case for us! And you know how things are, for us both. I’m a woman, you’re black, we’ve both got the odds stacked against us from the start! After this, we’ll be lucky to get a Christmas bonus, much less a promotion.”

After a tense moment, John leaned forward. “I know this was a big fish, and we spent a lot of time trying to reel it in. But sometimes they wriggle off the hook; that’s the way of the sea. But hey, you lose one, you rig one. Right?” She sat frustrated behind her desk, gritting her teeth and forcing a smile.

“Right, there’s plenty of fish in the sea.”

“There you go.” John leaned back in his chair, his eyes fixed on Barbara as a lingering tension hovered around their desk.