I did everything he told me to. He made me come in that tiny stall like I’d never come before.
Yes, I’d had boyfriends. A couple, nothing too serious except for a guy who was so painfully boring I couldn’t even make myself fake it for him. They’d made me come plenty of times. It had always been easy for me, and every man I’d been with loved making me squirm. But in the end, all of those shitty relationships fell apart. It was just never enough. Never enough to satisfy me and make me feel full and complete. I always craved so much more.
The online stuff was supposed to be where I let this side of me out. Where I could be anonymous, and at the same time, barer than I’d ever been.
It was the reason my last relationship ended, too.
He found out about my recordings, and told me I either had to stop posting them, or he’d end things with me. For me, the decision was clear. I was going to stop seeing him eventually anyway, I’d just never gotten the guts to actually tell him it was over. So off he went, and I was alone again… Just me and my microphone, and all the strangers I made explode so many miles away.
I eventually moved my postings to a place more local, because the lust I felt for a real man was getting much harder to ignore. I’d gotten more and more lax with the details I gave away about myself. I lived in a big city anyway, and I was sure no one was going to find me by some information scattered around on the internet.
Even though I actually really, really wanted them to.
This fantasy, playing with non-consent, had been on my mind non-stop lately. I wanted it so bad. And I knew that wanting it in itself meant it wasn’t actually non-consent. But there was something else about it, something so addicting, so delicious, I just couldn’t resist.
I’d role-played with a couple of the boyfriends I’d had. But nothing like this. They’d be freaked out if they knew the extent of my obsession.
I tended to date nice guys. Safe guys. Guys who didn’t even suspect what was hiding in my head. By the time we broke up, they still didn’t have a clue about what I really wanted. Just the way I liked it. Clean. Simple. Easy to break off.
I’d met some men on the internet, of course. Guys who got me off with pictures or their voices, or their dirty words. But I’d never felt myself fall so completely, head over heels in love with a man like I did with this one. And I didn’t even know his name yet, which felt strange as hell.
I sat in that bathroom stall with my fingers up to the knuckles in my pussy, and I came all over the palm of my hand, my fingers slipping out as they brought me to an earth-shattering orgasm. The hand that held my phone shook so much it nearly clattered to the floor.
“That was too much,” I breathed into the receiver. “Too much for me…”
“Good girl.” I could tell from his breathy, low growl that I’d gotten him excited too. I wondered if he had his thick, throbbing cock in his hand, and I wondered if he’d show it to me if I asked nicely. I wanted to see it so badly.
Just then, I heard the bathroom door open and someone stroll in wearing high heels. They click-clacked on the floor as I desperately cut the call and tried to make myself invisible in the stall.
Another set of footsteps followed the first and I heard giggling and chattering at the sinks. I blushed deeply as I put my phone away, and tried to exit the stall and not look as suspicious as I felt.
I approached the sinks and swung my purse over my shoulder, turning the water on to wash my hands. Two of my co-workers, Jacqueline and Grace, stood by the sinks giving me nasty glances.
“Good morning,” I said, and they muttered something back.
They spoke in hushed tones as I washed my hands and patted my face with a paper towel. I felt like a proper mess. My dress was riding too high, my neck felt hot, and my nipples were so hard they were rubbing all over the fabric of my dress, making me itch for another dirty phone call. I wasn’t wearing a bra—the dress had an open back, and I didn’t want the straps to show. My tits were too big for it, but I thought it looked okay. I’d checked in the mirror several times before making my way to work.
“Oh, Cleo?” Grace called after me as I made my way outside.
I stopped and turned to face her. Both girls were wearing their bitchiest expressions, glaring at me as I fidgeted nervously in front of them.
“Was there something you wanted?” I prompted Grace, and she just shot me a nasty look.
She was technically my supervisor, even though the boss didn’t care about that. He was a nice, fatherly man in his fifties who really had a soft spot for me. Jacqueline was his daughter, and Grace was her best friend, and they loved nothing more than to pick on me. I’d asked myself many times how a man as nice as Mr. Featherstone had managed to produce offspring as thoroughly annoying as Jackie.
“Yes, in fact there was,” Grace said with a syrupy-sweet voice. “You’re going to have to dress more appropriately, Cleo.”
“What?” I stared at her wide-eyed. “My dress is only an inch above the knee.”
“That’s not the main problem,” Jackie said, looking meaningfully at my chest.
I looked down at the front of my dress. My nipples were so hard they showed through the white fabric, stretching and straining painfully under the cotton. I crossed my arms self-consciously, blushing so deep it felt like my cheeks and neck were going to catch on fire any second.
“I’d let you borrow my cardigan,” Grace said in a faux-thoughtful tone. “But I don’t think we’re the same size, darling.”
I hated them. Their nasty, girlish laughter, their mean ways.
I wasn’t that big, but I definitely had wide hips and a big butt, and my tits made me broader than I wanted to be. But my waist was small and I was neither tall nor short. Most days, I felt pretty good about myself. I knew men liked me. I’d gotten attention from them every day of my life. But girls… they’d always hated me and picked on me. I was used to it, and I shouldn’t have let a couple of nasty bitches like Grace and Jackie put me down. But I felt like a teenager again with them around. The oddball with no clique to belong in, the girl who ate her lunches in the bathroom.
They say things change after high school, but when you work with people like Jackie and Grace, they will make sure you feel every blow you did back in the school cafeteria. I hated them for it.
I left the bathroom in a hurry and tried to spend the rest of my workday quietly. I managed to leave on my lunch break to buy a pastel pink cardigan in a clothing store down the street. It went nicely with my dress, so I ignored Grace’s stifled laughter as I made my way back into the store after my break.
My mind was preoccupied, anyway. I was busy thinking about him… the mystery man who’d made me come on the phone before my workday even began properly. He was claiming my mind, and even though I couldn’t find a free moment to send him a message, he was in my thoughts all day long.
I worked in a bookstore in a trendy part of town. We were popular because Mr. Featherstone still handpicked most of our selection, and he had good taste. Our customers ranged from people who’d been coming into Pages for decades to hipsters who loved it because it happened to be trendy. It was always busy, and I loved it. I’d always worked best when I was busy.
It was about ten minutes before my shift ended, and for once, my end of the store was less busy. I used the chance to pull out my phone and check for messages from my mystery man.
He’d sent me a single picture, and my fingers trembled as I opened the message.
It was shot from above, him sitting on a chair, stroking his cock through a pair of sweatpants. He was shirtless, and his chest and stomach were toned so perfectly I thought it must’ve been a stolen photo. But somehow, I knew it wasn’t. I looked at his lips in the upper corner, quirked in a smirk. I knew it was him, because his voice fit in perfectly with that picture. And it made me wet as hell.
“Am I interrupting something?”
I nearly dropped my phone in my hurry to put it away. I glanced up at a man standing before me. He had light brown hair, a little messy, some scruff on his prominent jaw. He was dressed well, and very handsome. My heart skipped a worried beat.
“I’m so sorry,” I said. “I was just taking a break; my shift is almost over.”
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” He winked at me, and I smiled at him uncomfortably.
“Did you need help?” I asked him awkwardly, and he explained he was looking for a gift for his sister.
I spent the next ten minutes helping him look for the perfect book for her. He mentioned she liked thrillers and plot twists, so I made sure to find him something I personally enjoyed. But he kept going on and on, until I started looking at the clock above us meaningfully.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” he laughed. “I’m not keeping you, am I?”
“Well, my shift is over now,” I said with a smile. “But I’m sure my colleague could help you out with anything you might need.”
“Well.” He grinned at me. “I must say, I was very much enjoying the way you were helping me in particular.”
I blushed as I looked at the floor. I did get the odd client hitting on me, but I still hadn’t gotten used to it yet. I kept thinking of those bitches’ comments in the bathroom, and I crossed my arms in front of my body self-consciously.
“Are you embarrassed?” he asked me softly. “You’re beautiful. You shouldn’t hide like that.”
“I do have to get going,” I said, snapping back to strictly professional. I didn’t need another reason for Jacqueline to hate me and take it to her father. “I can ask my colleague to help you further, if you want.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
I gave him a tense smile and went behind the counter to pick up my things. It weirded me out when he followed closely behind, and I put my bag over my shoulder and closed the till, readying it for the girl who was coming in for the afternoon shift.
“You seem very nervous,” the man told me.
“I’m fine, thank you,” I replied. “Just have to get going now. Have to feed my cat. Thank you for your business.”
“What’s your cat’s name?” he asked, and I gave him a strange look.
“Casper,” I finally replied, then made an attempt to leave.
When I brushed past him, his strong fingers wrapped around my arm.
“Wait,” he said. I looked at him like a deer in headlights.
“Please let go,” I said calmly. “I need to go home.”
“I just wanted to get your number,” he said with a winning smile of pearly-whites. He really looked like a model. “In case I need your help again.”
He laughed, but I felt uneasy. There was a vibe he was giving off that made me really uncomfortable. I just wanted to get away from him.
“I’m sorry, I’m not allowed to do that,” I said simply, managing to get away from him. “I hope you have a nice day, sir.”
I felt his eyes on my back as I made my way out of the bookstore.