Knock Me into Next Year

She looked over to Miss Florentine, holding Denise's head to her bosom as she rested, twitching in her sleep like a dog. Miss Florentine pulled her mask off her head, the dark makeup around her eyes having run a bit down her cheeks, giving her a ghostly appearance.

"Want me to get something to clean up?" She whispered to Miss Florentine.

"I've got makeup remover wipes in the office." Miss Florentine told her.

Julienne was off to retrieve them. When she came back, she turned the corner of the atrium at the same time...

As the janitor.

(Miss Florentine had lied about the pencil sharpener being empty. She just didn't want to do it anywhere else. If the door was locked, the janitor knew not to interrupt.)

Julienne made a soft gasp as she realized that he was not naked, and she definitely was. She held the box of makeup removing wipes over her groin, pulling her legs in together. Where were those handy potted plants when she needed them the most?

Once the janitor realized what he was seeing, he averted his eyes and turned his cart around. "Whoops, I guess I already did this side. Happy New Year." He left without haste.

Miss Florentine looked up at her from the floor. "Are you embarrassed, all of a sudden?"

Julienne handed off the box to her. "It's easier if you can't see them looking back at you."

--

The new year brought on some changes, as it often did.

On New Year's Day, Denise received a message to her work email. It was an impersonal and slightly snotty email terminating her for her inappropriate behavior at work. As it turns out, the USB component she unplugged from her work computer wasn't the webcam, but the wireless mouse. The letter didn't mention anything about her nudity or her masturbating or her large penis... but it directly quoted her as calling the New Year's Eve party... 'lame.' This qualified as public disparagement of the company, which was not tolerated.

Since this quote was from the start of her stream where she was at her desk... they evidently hadn't seen the rest of the stream, where there was so much more worthy debauchery to terminate or possibly imprison her over.

This also meant that Miss Florentine and Julienne avoided any scrutiny. To her credit, Miss Florentine objected to her being terminated for such paltry reasons, but was brushed off by the even-higher-ups. She reached out to Denise privately on her own cell phone, leaving a voice mail where she offered her a reference if she needed one.

Julienne was promoted to Miss Florentine's assistant, mostly to avoid her being shuffled off to another position in the company, supporting someone else she didn't like as much as her. They continued to work together beautifully... and play even more beautifully. But both felt a little guilty at how they'd somehow avoided the punishment that Denise had experienced.

Of course, they could just watch her show if they wanted to see how she was hanging on... but Julienne had been banned from her chat for making a joke about dwarves. At least she had sent Denise off with a parting gift: that generous donation that set off the alert that started their wild night together.

Denise didn't see the termination email. She hadn't checked it on New Year's Day. She also didn't respond to the email about her computer bag that she had left behind. Her laptop had made it safely back home, but not the corresponding bag... or her charging cable. The bag was sent to lost and found... where Denise never came back to retrieve it. With no way to charge the laptop back up, it sat on top of a bookshelf, the last little bits of electricity dissipating from the battery before it went to sleep forever.

Some stores were closed on New Year's Day, but not the kind Denise felt like visiting. She went on a bit of a shopping spree, buying herself a new phone with the best integrated camera she could afford. She also got her data plan updated, finally springing for unlimited data.

She also searched far and wide for one of those trendy telescoping arms that you nestle a phone in to take pictures of yourself at wider angles. Finding one was very difficult, as they'd become as synonymous with oblivious obnoxiousness as Bluetooth earpieces and ankle-length jorts. Disneyland had even banned them from rides ages ago, probably to prevent one falling a few stories from the top of Splash Mountain and embedding itself in the cranium of a child.

Denise did eventually find one at a secondhand shop, right next to the robotic dog and the Bop It! toy. She unfurled the device in the store... admiring its length. She might buy a more advanced one later, but even next-day shipping could not satisfy her need to get this long sturdy thing into her hands right this second.

She got an excellent video of her entire body, head to toe, one arm extended outward as if she was pointing a sword at the mountain she intended to surmount that very day.

There was one more thing she purchased from the second-hand shop: a lovely black raincoat that reached her calves. It had buttons, a zipper, a million pockets... it was perfect.

She wore it out of the store. The worker wondered why the cute blonde woman had changed into the raincoat in the changing room on a perfectly clear if chilly day.

A different worker wondered who had left a bunch of clothing in the changing room. None of it had tags... was this somebody's way of donating their old clothing? Had someone tried to steal them, but had a change of heart?

There may have been a change of heart, but Denise didn't intend on spending any more money on second-hand clothing... or first-hand clothing... perhaps ever again.

Denise could not even wait to get back to her car. She dashed around the back of the secondhand store, held the phone out on the stick and threw her coat open. It never felt so good with her left hand before. She wasn't broadcasting from her phone or anything. She was just recording. She was alone... but who knew for how long? People drove up to the back of secondhand stores all the time! That's where the donation bays were! At any moment, a car could come around that corner.

It was perhaps a good thing she wasn't streaming, because then it'd be over in less than a minute. She sprayed her jizz all over the crumbling blacktop behind the building, anxious sweat forming on her forehead. It was amazing, incredible, fantastic...

And yet, not quite as good as last night. What a life-changing experience that was. She had no idea danger could be so... thrilling. Sneaking around in this coat like a common flasher gave her some of that same intense thrill. She could not wait to do this again... in broad daylight. She wanted to get her hair dyed a color and shade brighter than a visibility vest. She wanted to sneak around the alleys of the city, leaving her clothes behind and seeing how many laps she could do of secluded walkways before getting caught. And jerking it the whole way, every day... morning, noon and night, at every opportunity...

This year, her second year of streaming... this was going to be like that show that took a second season to really take off. She'd give her audience something nobody else was doing. Her big dick jizzing like a huge fountain... in public. This would be the year... of Decymal.

Masturbating in your own bedroom?

That is SO last year.