Of TuesdaybyGabriel Orr©
How is that you know when you've crossed that much-lauded line of decency? Is it a feeling that pervades the senses as an instant reaction to some dastardly deed? Is it a subtle hint that flickers at the back of your mind like the insistent buzzing of midday flies? Perhaps it is a dream, a fading wisp of memory that creeps into your thoughts during the dead of night, seeking you out when you are alone and afraid. I'll confess that I've been somewhat consumed by wondering for some days now.
Despite all of that tripe, it seems obvious to me that the realization of dark deeds done is a wholly unique experience for each person, the product of a lifetime of concerns, emotions, and learning that crafts, in and of itself, a perspective fit only for its maker. Knowing that... how could I ever learn what my realization would entail? The short answer is that I couldn't... can't... without realizing it for my self.
I guess that I have no right to challenge stereotype and tradition, so I'll just do like most every storyteller has done and explain myself. My name... god, does it really matter? Just call me Samantha. I'm the bank manager at the local Trust Exchange bank, where I spend the bulk of my waking hours keeping accounts and sighing with malcontent. It's a good job... but I miss the freedom of the road. See, during my twenties I earned my living as a backup dancer for a half-dozen one-hit pop music groups; you know the type. Five guys or one girl will stand at the front of the stage and pretend to sing while a troop of hard bodies shake and gyrate to make the ones at the front look better. Back then I was at the bottom of the top, ready to take on any challenge that came knocking at my door. My hair was a different color every month, my body bulged with lean, sexy muscle, and I was on top of the world.
Sixteen years and two children later, I'm a bank manager. My hair is back to its medium brown, largely uninteresting shade, my muscle isn't as muscular as it once was, and the only world I'm ever on top of belongs to someone else. After the bliss of my divorce (from one of the roadies of back in the day, if you can believe it) I've had to scratch and claw my way back up the ladder of life and now, at age thirty-four, I'm beginning to show signs of slowing down. At least I was, until about a week ago, when the first of my indiscretions occurred.
It was a day just like any other weekday. I had a quick breakfast and a hot shower, over the course of which I had an irritating, but all too common, realization. I was going to work horny, again.
Okay, I know this story just changed gears, but bear with me on this. See... I'm happy to be divorced from Jorge, even though he held onto custody of my son Alexander. I'm pleased as punch, because... even though he's a good father and a good man, Jorge just stopped loving me. Our sex life fizzled out as we lost physical interest in each other... and then we separated. I took our daughter Terra and moved here, to this dull burg, so that I could get a good job and provide for her future and mine. The problem with that... well, the problem is that I just don't have time for dating anymore. Up until a week ago I hadn't had sex in a solid two years, leastwise with someone I cared about, and I found myself growing a little more anxious every day as my job continued to devour the dwindling years of my youth.
Fast forward to one week ago. I had done a fine job of keeping my hands swift and unarousing during my shower, and I had dressed and gotten to work without any problems at all. By this point in my life I had stopped wearing hosiery and seldom was the time that my red/gray/green business skirt concealed a pair of panties, as I had made it a point to do whatever I could to ease my bodily wants so that I wouldn't sink down into the depression of physical loneliness. I had worn thongs for a while, but I never quite found the liking for them... and I had become rather adept at taking care of myself beneath my desk in my office, or wherever that god-forsaken urge would strike me... usually in the middle of something important. Often was the time when my assistant Leah would have to take over one of our weekly associate meetings while I walked down the hall to my office, in those tall heels that hurt my feet only enough to take some of the savor out of the stares my still-shapely bottom drew from the boys. Inevitably I would end up sitting in my cushy little roller-chair with the door locked and two fingers buried in my naked cunt, my radio turned up to drown out the soft moans that I couldn't hold back, and my left hand pinching at my rigid pink nipples through the thin fibers of my work shirt. By the time I'd finished, my whole office smelled of sex... and the process would begin all over again.
That fateful Tuesday was different in only one respect. On that day, one week ago, I had my radio way up and my fingers...well... much the same way. I was so into the pleasure of masturbating at work that I didn't hear the doorknob turning... didn't see the light peeking into my office until it was too late. Leah's mouth hung open in the middle of some word that hadn't had time to form, her twenty-two year old cheeks aflame with the blush of learning something... provocative.
I just stared. I stared until she turned to rush back out the door. I stared until the reality of what had just happened hit me like a right hook.
"Leah," I cried, staying the hand of my young apprentice, "wait, please, let me..." Let me what? Let me explain that I had been caught getting myself off during a staff meeting? I knew that I was just stalling, but I had to keep her from leaving my office until I could figure things out. I stood on shaky knees so that my skirt could fall back over my still-wanting lips, terrified that the redhead might bolt at any moment.
Her hand hesitated at the doorknob. Shook a little.
"Leah, please, I'm begging you. I need this job, please don't tell anyone..." I couldn't believe the way my voice sounded, so pathetic, so whiny, as I took her arm and begged her to stay and listen. "Let me explain, Leah..."
Leah spun around to face me, her eyes slightly wide, her breathing rapid. "I'm sorry Samantha, I didn't know... it's okay, really. I won't tell anyone, I promise." The words tumbled forth from between her painted lips in such a rush that I had barely understood them before she was gone, leaving me to stand stupidly in my office and consume myself with worry. If she told one of the owners about this, she could easily get me fired for violations of conduct. Although I knew Leah to be an honest, hard working girl, I also knew that this encounter put her in a position of great power over me, and all because I had forgotten to lock one stupid door! I knew this was Jorge's fault, somehow, I just hadn't worked out the logic of it yet.
Obviously I wasn't able to finish my business, and so it was with incredible trepidation that I composed myself and returned, somewhat shakily, to the staff meeting in the foyer. My presence hadn't really been missed, as Leah was doing her job as my assistant quite professionally... although I noticed that she didn't once look me in the eye until about two minutes before closing time. I was put off by the silent treatment, but this was largely due to my fear of the choices she might make, choices that could easily cost me my job, my reputation, my whole life.
By the time I arrived home that evening, I was a nervous wreck. I half expected to check my answering machine to hear the gentlemanly voice of Alan Sexton, the owner of the bank, or to hear Leah's crystalline tone, explaining how my actions had earned a nice fat pink slip. To heap irritation onto that, I had been far too worked up by this nasty business to finish getting myself off for the day. I could almost hear my vagina asking what the hell my problem was as I let myself in the side door of my dinky one-car garage, which of course was occupied by Terra's monstrous SUV.
At least I was comforted by the knowledge that I was going to get to spend some quality time with my baby girl that evening. Since she turned that magical, nightmarish age of eighteen, she and I hadn't spent a great deal of time in each other's presence. I tried not to let it bother me, but... she's a sensitive girl, so she picked up on my moods pretty quickly. Together, we had worked out a schedule that would allow us to start spending at least one day a week doing girl stuff together and just generally hanging out. Tonight's agenda included a stop at the movies to see the latest in Hollywood buffoonery, supper at a place of Terra's choosing, and a video game rental (her idea, believe me) so that she could have something to do in the morning when I left for work again.
I stopped by the phone and checked my answering machine in short order, and was relieved to hear that only my mother and older brother had called while I'd been away, along with the usual assortment of Terra's friends. With the weight of impending unemployment temporarily lifted from my shoulders, I visited the bathroom, kicked off my shoes, and headed straightway into my bedroom for a change of clothes. Terra's room lay just to the right of mine, and I would have said hello had her door not been locked. My heart sank just a little, but I went along my way without a further thought about it. My taste for drama and concern had been thoroughly slaked that day, thank you very much.
Before long, a simple, yet comfortable, teal bathrobe replaced my business skirtsuit and I sank down into my absolute favorite chair, a foofy violet settee that is horribly out of place with the rest of the decor, sighing as the day fled before me. Now that I was back in my element I loosened up a little bit, even going so far as to sip a little bit of scotch so that I could relax. Before long at all my body had reminded me of the halfway care I had given it earlier, and my long, creamy-skinned right leg found itself draped over the cushioned arm of the chair. I wasn't looking for a perfect orgasm... just a little release... and had no intention of being there for more than a few minutes.
A soft cry of pleasure echoed against the walls of my bedroom. The only odd thing about that was that... I had yet to begin taking care of myself. I listened again, eyebrows arched, and within a moment I heard it again. A high-pitched giggle that dripped with a hint of Spanish accent... coming from my daughter's room. I grinned despite myself, as I considered what must have been going on in there.
Surely, I thought, she's growing up on me. I didn't think anything else of it, until a different sort of sound joined in with that milky-sweet voice. Slowly I crept my way to the wall and pressed my ear against it, both curious and concerned about what might be going on behind my daughter's door.
"Ooh," my daughter's voice purred, through the wall, "yeah... eat me, Hunter, mm-hm..."
I caught my breath. Reeled back from the wall, my hand held over my hammering heart. A half-dozen emotions roared through my already too sensitive mind; hurt that my daughter had brought her boyfriend Hunter home behind my back, worry that they might be having real sex and the natural fear of what might come of it at her age, irritation that my daughter would get physical with a boy under my roof... but...there was something else, too. Something darker, forbidden, a thought that teased my mind just as I had been about to tease my body. I could hear Hunter's voice grunting, the light, but distinct, sound of a boy's lips popping and slurping... he was really going down on her. And from the sighs and squeals my daughter produced, I could tell that she was loving every second of it.
I should have bolted. I should have gotten dressed and left the house, the state, the country. But that dark thought, that naughty, secret hunger, prevailed against my better judgment. Moving swiftly, I pulled my favorite chair against the wall so that my head pointed directly towards Terra's room, and threw off my teal bathrobe with a flourish. My nipples stood firmly out from my lightly tanned breasts, solid little pink rosebuds against the swell of my bosom that I pulled, stroked, and tweaked in delight. I could still hear Hunter licking my daughter's pussy, and their impassioned cries filled my mind with nasty, naughty images that both repulsed and intrigued me. I could almost see his blonde mane bobbing up and down between Terra's muscular legs, my daughter's fingers digging into his scalp as she ground her cunt against his lips and face. I imagined how his tongue caressed her slit, how his great big cock bulged against his jeans, screaming to be thrust into her hot little hole again and again. My fingers didn't waste any time in streaming down my sweating body, tickling my navel for a bare instant before sweeping downwards and into my greasy, wet pussy lips. My tongue danced within my mouth and along my lipstick smeared lips, mimicking the tongue that I so desperately wanted to kiss... first one finger, then two, slipped between my feminine folds to fill my hungry cunny, and it fed greedily upon them, pulling them in and out, sucking them just like Hunter was sucking my daugther's nubile pussy.
My hips rose and fell in a hotly erotic dance of unimaginable lust. I just knew that Hunter's hand had fallen to the front of his jeans, pressing and rubbing against that bulging cock, and I wanted nothing more than to take down his zipper and taste it for myself. The longer I lay there rubbing my burning, greedy pussy, the harder I had to fight the urge to key open Terra's door and join them, to watch him plunge his tongue into my daughter's pussy and -maybe, oh maybe- to watch him lathe all over her tight, sexy ass. I loved to watch a man eat a girl's ass on videotape, and I knew that I would love watching Hunter flick his tongue all over Terra's little round hole in real life. I imagined his massive, college wrestler's body lying upon her pink, frilly bed, her hips straddling his face as he tongued her dripping wet snatch into a frenzy. I saw in my mind's eye that his member was freed of its denim prison and I saw myself taking that huge, pulsing shaft into my mouth, ringing all around his glistening head with my ravenous tongue as I swallowed every last white hot inch of that cock. My fingers worked furiously inside of my sopping pussy, sweat pouring from my brow as my fantasy continued, urged on by the desperate cries of pure sex from next door. I cried out when the heel of my hand pushed against my elongated clit, and for a moment I feared that they had heard me, as Terra's voice stopped whimpering almost instantly. I sat, frozen in a panic that only seemed to heighten the strange, sexy feeling dominating my senses, until I heard his voice again. Only this time it was Hunter who moaned and grunted, and my daughter who seemed slent...
Oh my... she's got him in her mouth right now... that was it. I couldn't stand it anymore... my skilled fingertips played my cunt like a virtuoso on a violin, each stroke a masterpiece, each thrust of my three fingers a blissful agony. I held my breath, my head pounding, my heart hammering, my hips rocking against the soft violet of my chair, grinding my free-flowing juices into the cloth. I was so close to orgasm that I could think of nothing besides my spasming pussy, the tangy girl oil that trickled down and lubricated my ass hole, the slurping of Terra's mouth against Hunter's aching love muscle.
Until I heard him come.
His voice broke in the familiar, choppy cry that is the male orgasm, and the images of my sweet little daughter sucking him off, combined with the insatiable lust I had sparked off at work, drove me over the edge of ecstasy. My raging hands stroked and thumbed my horny pussy without mercy, abusing the limits of its endurance until my body shattered with an orgasm the likes of which I hadn't experience in many a long year I screamed out as I came, each orgasm melting into the next, my whole body ablaze with absolute, untained sex. I fucked myself with a vicious, primal fury until my muscles simply gave out and I dropped into my favorite chair, horrified and delighted by what had just transpired. "Oh my god," I heard myself whispering , "oh my god..."
I couldn't believe what I had just done. I had just eavesdropped on my own daughter and her boyfriend, and I had masturbated... no, that word isn't strong enough. I had fucked the hell out of myself to a fantasy involving my child and her boyfriend... I heard all those words flowing through my exhausted mind... pervert, voyeur, sex-fiend... but I didn't care. I didn't care, because... deep in the darkest, most animalistic parts of my mind, I wanted more, so much more.
I knew that I was going to love living dangerously once again. Things were going to change in my life... I wasn't going to sit and wait for someone to come along and rescue me. I knew that things could only change if I took control... and they did... so much so that I just can't wait to tell you about what happened on Wednesday.