tagAnalAnger Management

Anger Management

byParis Waterman©

A short cautionary tale of a woman masturbating out of anger and then pure lust.




"That son of a bitch deliberately sabotaged my presentation!" The young woman in a trim charcoal gray business jacket and skirt muttered under her breath as she strode down the corridor in angry fury.

It was deliberate too. He knew just when to throw my presentation off with his seemingly innocuous questions, she grumbled to herself as she came to a small, closet sized toilet, yanked the door open and slammed it shut after entering.

The room contained a toilet, a small mirror over an equally small sink and a radiator to the right of the toilet.

She leaned her belly on the sink, and then clenching its edge, studied her face in the mirror.

"What am I," she asked herself, "a fucking pawn in some game he's playing? He told me they wanted that slant. He looked it over, said it was perfect. Perfect! The sonofabitch said it was perfect!"

The intensity of anger on her face was so extreme that anyone walking in on her at that moment would have feared for their life.

Still glaring at her reflection she took a deep breath, I need ... I need to calm the fuck down. After another deep breath she slowly became aware of her surroundings and straightened up. Staring angrily at her image in the mirror, she said aloud, "I can't believe I let him fuck me! I thought ... I don't care how long it takes, but I'm getting even with you ... you motherfucker!"

Her stomach rumbled so loudly it reverberated off the tiled wall of the toilet.

"Fuck, now I gotta go? Why couldn't I have had to go when the presentation was due?"

Pivoting neatly on her three inch heels, she took two steps to the commode, lifted her skirt, pulled her panties down to her knees and sat down. Nothing happened.

I better calm down, I'm so pissed I can't even pee. The thought made her laugh at herself and she let loose a brief stream of urine then sat there bristling at what had happened to her at the meeting; the most important meeting of her career. The fucking president of the company had been sitting there when she allowed herself to be intimidated by that asshole.

The asshole happened to be her ex-fiancée, who knowing how she would react, had deliberately disrupted her presentation until she was fumbling for words and lost her place in the PowerPoint presentation so that she was talking about significant subjects after they appeared, causing confusion on both her part and that of her audience. Mortified, she had abruptly ended her presentation and left the conference room leaving a bewildered and somewhat dissatisfied company president wondering who this woman was that had wasted an hour of his time.

To think I was beginning to think we might get back together ... She gave a sarcastic bark and came out of her bad mood long enough to grunt and evacuate her bowels.

She sat still for several minutes while a brief period of her life played out in her mind. She distinctly recalled his smell after ejaculating on her breasts after trying to give her a pearl necklace. It had been their second time in bed together. She remembered how his sperm had tasted, so sweet, unlike other guys whose ejaculate she'd sampled.

Her sexual appetite emerged. This was a lifelong thing with her, in stressful times she sought relief through masturbation. What's more, the very first time she'd experimented with masturbation had been in a small bathroom, similar to the one she now sat.

Her right hand dipped between the black thigh-highs she wore. Her fingertips blindly find her petals and knowingly part them. She tried to speak but couldn't. Her knuckles grew white as her fingers pressed inward. She forced her left foot into the floor, felt her toes bend from the pressure. Her nipples swelled and jutted out against the silken fabric of her black blouse. She realized that her entire body had stiffened. Her mouth opened wide and she gasped noiselessly at the surge of pleasure rushing through her body.

"Oh, God! It feels ... soooo good!"

She stopped touching herself, reached down into her purse, which lay by her right foot, and after rummaging for a few seconds, pulled out a pink vibrator. She stared at it for a moment, before bringing it to her mouth and wetting it. The all too familiar taste of her dried juices came back to her as she turned it on to the slowest setting and inserted it into her vaginal opening.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" she mewed before nuzzling her backside against the toilet tank. Her nostrils flared as the vibrations traveled to the heart of her sex.

The soft buzz of the vibrator caused a small, tight smile to flit across her face as she settled into an all too familiar routine.

Absentmindedly, she hunched up and worked her panties completely off, shoving them into the purse. Then, taking a firm grip on the toilet seat with her left hand, she pressed the whirring instrument deeper into her vaginal walls until it was almost ¾'s into her.

At some point her left hand abandoned the seat and slowly moved to her clit, rubbing it as her other hand guided the pink toy in and out, and her belly, just below the belly button, bulged in time with her grunts.

With a satisfied grin, she raised her right foot so that her shoe braced her leg against the radiator, allowing her to part her legs even more without losing her balance on the toilet.

Moments later, her breathing intensified, until she was huffing "OH's" with every thrust of the toy.

Striving for a better position, she leaned back causing her ass to sink into the bowl while her shoulder blades came to rest against the back of the commode.

Anyone entering the room at that moment would have been confronted by her wrist working the tip of the vibrator so that it rolled over her clitoris before sinking into her vagina and then repeating the act again and again.

Her moaning grew louder by the second.

"Yes, yes, yes, I'm going to cum!"

And as her eyes rolled up in her head and the insatiable twitching started in her abdomen ... she switched to: "Oh fuck! Oh fuck!"

Suddenly she stopped, and after gathering herself, dropped the vibrator into her purse and took out a tissue which she held in her hand. She sat still for a full minute, then grunted twice, and wiped herself.

She continued to sit still, looking around the small room as if discovering it for the first time. A minute passed before she moved, reaching into the purse to retrieve the vibrator, brought to her mouth again and wet it thoroughly. This time she rubbed it against her anus, stood up, turned down the lid of the toilet, and sat down.

Pivoting to her right, she raised her right leg high enough to graze her cheek. Then peeking between her widely parted legs, she began urging the buzzing vibrator into her anus.

As the toy sank deeper she began talking to herself: "How's this you bastard? I never, ever let you near it; but I've always loved anal ... always. But thank God I denied you the pleasure. Oh, you begged me, you cocksucker, and are a cocksucker! Remember that night I coaxed you into fellating Carl? You said you didn't like it, but I think you did. You thought I'd give you my ass after that, but I didn't. I almost did, and I let Carl fuck me there the next night. Oh, am I glad I didn't let you have it. You faggot! You cretin, you ...."

The smell of her arousal filled the small room, but was lost on her as she renewed her efforts to achieve an anal climax; her hand now a blur from the rapidity of her thrusting.

Suddenly she came to a halt, repositioned herself on the toilet so that she raised her anus up another inch or two. Once again she brought the smeared pink shaft to her mouth, wet it and sent it back into the dark recesses of her rectum.

A smile lit up her face as she moved it deep, almost losing it inside herself, she whimpered and began to buck as she rubbed her clit furiously with her other hand.

Her cell phone rang. She ignored it, whimpering louder as she increased the speed of her thrashing. The orgasm closed in on her. She closed her eyes, dropped her hands, let her head loll, and sobbed soundlessly as it rolled over her.

She sat quietly as the climax subsided. There was some noise just outside the toilet door and she froze. The door handle turned and she forced herself to speak.

"It's occupied!"

"Sorry," a man's voice replied, and then she heard him walk away.

She waited another few seconds before extracting the toy from her anus. She stood up, her skirt clung to her hips as she examined the soiled pink shaft.

Then with that daintiness only women seem to possess, she held the vibrator out away from her business jacket, raised the lid of the toilet and sat down. She switched it to her left hand, reached into her purse for a tissue, wrapped it around the shaft and wiped it off before returning it to her purse.

She sighed contentedly, her previous anger gone, then dropped the tissue into the toilet and flushed.

She remained seated for a few more seconds, and then reached behind her, grabbed a handful of toilet paper, wiped herself, stood up and tugged her skirt down and flushed the toilet again.

Moving to the sink, she washed and dried her hands, smoothed an invisible wrinkle in her thigh-high stockings, reexamined her face in the mirror and applied a fresh coating of lipstick to her mouth, then as she opened the door the cell phone rang again.

Walking out the door, she cheerfully said,

"Hello? Yes, I'm terribly sorry about that, Sir. I had a ... well I had a bad case of the runs. I'd be happy to provide you with a private presentation, Sir."

Her every word dripped sexual promise.

"Ten minutes? Certainly, Sir. Yes Sir. Thank you, Sir!"

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