Once the blanket covered her from chin to toes, Charlotte slithered her hand down along her stomach, then cupped her sex through her panties. The cotton clung to her pussy lips, completely soaked from her conversation with Trey. Squeezing her eyes shut, she recalled his photo for the calendar. The deep lines between the muscles of his six pack. The V pointing to the part of a man she had only ever seen in the porn videos she loved to watch. His deep brown eyes, that even while trying to look sexy and brooding, held a glint of humor.
Charlotte imagined him strutting towards her, sweat glistening as it rolled down the peaks and valleys of his stomach, only to get absorbed in the waistband of his boxer briefs. She slipped her fingers into her panties, immediately circling her fingertips around her pulsing clit. Without wasting time, she flicked the little bundle of nerves up and down, wishing it was his thick fingers. He wouldn’t be satisfied to simply rub her clit to orgasm. He would plunge first one finger into her tight, inexperienced cunt. But soon, that wouldn’t be enough, and she’d beg him to add another. That second digit would stretch her to the point of bordering on pain.
Charlotte longed to know what it would feel like to be filled up that way. To have the weight of a man pressing down on her from above. Her head rolled to the side, and she sucked her lip between her teeth to stymie the desperate noises threatening to spill from her as the orgasm barreled down on her.
Her eyes slipped open, and before she could squeeze them shut again, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror across the room. The sight of her body writhing on the couch, blanket slipping down as her wrist and hand frantically worked their magic beneath it, her skin flush with arousal, and eyes bright and clear, it all turned her on. She knew she should be embarrassed, ashamed for sneaking off to the bathroom to masturbate, but none of that mattered while the nerves in her body thrummed and begged for release.
Before she could think too much about it, Charlotte ripped the blanket off, baring her body to the mirror. Still clothed in her button-down blouse and panties, her hand disappeared down into the plain white fabric. The crotch of the conservative underwear bucked wildly as her hand rubbed roughly at her clit. That strange dichotomy of prim outfit and dirty action sent her over the edge, whimpering as she clamped her mouth shut and pictured Trey driving his cock into her for the first time.
The silence filling the room around her seemed to pulse and push in on her as the pleasure of the last five minutes faded. The shame she had avoided while on the verge of orgasm now flooded her, tears pushing at the edges of her eyes. She craved with every inch of her being to be the confident girl who would be the equal of a man like Trey. That she could experience his touch and know the fullness of having him inside her.
Hell, she wished she were brave enough to jump at the opportunity her boss had laid at her feet mere hours before.
But she was none of those things.
Charlotte stood, straightened her clothes, and walked to the sink to wash her hands, avoiding her reflection in the wall of mirrors. She didn’t want to see the weakness, fear, and shame that comprised the girl she would always be.
