Knock Me into Next Year

Before he turned away to return to his cleaning duties... he noticed a little black lump next to the rounded black lump on the mouse pad. It couldn't be a second mouse. Nobody was operating on THAT unknown hacker level. The janitor reached out and pinched the unidentified lump, only for it to unfold as he lifted it and reveal itself as a tiny pair of women's panties.

The janitor looked around, wondering if someone was playing a prank on him. He didn't want to be caught holding these things, so he dropped them into the trash can built into his cart and moved on.

If the janitor had looked closer, or shined a flashlight under the desk like he was looking for a lost cell phone in the crevices of the interior of a car... he might have seen a snapped-off heel from a high-heeled shoe.

Denise watched him walk away from a few cubicles away, tucked under the desk and behind the chair, panting into her hand to try to stay quiet. As the janitor rounded a corner, she scurried out from under it as quietly as she could. The viewers were treated to a mostly incomprehensible view of her holding the laptop in whatever way she could as she slipped away and out into the hall. She didn't even look to see if anyone else was out there. She just knew she had to get out of there before he got to that cubicle.

She came to rest in a hallway outside the exit to that cubicle farm. She set the laptop out in front of her and folded her legs in. Denise was flushed and panting, more than they'd ever seen without her orgasming first.

"Oh my gosh..." She swallowed hard. "That was close. I didn't think they'd send the janitors in today. That sucks that he has to work on New Year's Eve." She said, as if she hadn't just put in maybe thirteen hours herself.

Her audience didn't need to know how her New Year's Eve had proceeded before the stream. She could just pretend she was pretty enough to have no other job outside of social media 'influencer.' Based on how hard those girls worked that unrewarding hustle, she'd rather keep working... either at the office, or herself.

"Well, looks like we'll have to find some other place to have fun. There must be somewhere in this huge building we can access and get some privacy."

She got up off the floor and started walking, but immediately limped a bit as she tried walking on her newly heel-less shoe. She looked down. "Oh, crap. I didn't even notice." She set the laptop down on the dry basin of a drinking fountain and pulled off her shoes. She showed them to the camera, one with a jagged break in place of a heel. "I must have snapped it when I was running away. Well, that's a hundred and ten dollars down the drain."

A slightly desperate message came from chat, so important that the chatter had paid a few dollars to have it highlighted: "Don't throw them away!"

"I can't carry these things around all night." Denise said. "I already have to carry the laptop around. Then I'll have no hands free to touch myself."

The chatter offered a substantial amount for them. Once again, she didn't wish to encourage body part fetishism... unless it was her cock, of course.

"Tell you what." Denise said. "I'll hide them somewhere, and if someone doesn't steal them in the meantime, and I get them back, then we'll make a deal and they'll be all yours. If I lose track of them, sorry. But the show must go on."

Denise disappeared off-camera for a few seconds to hide them somewhere near. Again, maybe the janitor wouldn't be by here anytime soon, and she could recover them after midnight. They could work our an arragement for the shoes later... so long as they were still there.

She returned to her laptop and picked it up off its tenuous perch across the basin of the water fountain. Ironically, everyone watching was definitely thirsty.

"Thank goodness I didn't use that trash can at the desk like a jizz spittoon, huh?" She joked to her chat. "I wouldn't have wanted to leave that for someone else to clean up. That's beyond the 'trash' that he should be dealing with in an office setting. The poor guy wasn't even wearing gloves..."

A helpful suggestion came from chat: go back and do the janitor.

Every time Denise mentioned someone in her life, no matter the strength or variety of their relationship, someone in chat said that they should bring them onto chat and mess around. Denise was too busy for a girlfriend, but still had a LITTLE time for friends. If she ever mentioned a friend, someone in the chat wanted them to get involved. Denise wouldn't even have to say their name or anything about them other then that they were a friend. Maybe this was the mindset of the sort of person who spends New Year's Eve watching porn. If someone somehow fumbles their way into their life, the next logical step would be seduction. What else were other people for?

"I don't know if they'd be into it." She told chat. "Besides, they have to work. Maybe after midnight, when we all turn back into pumpkins... I've already left my shoes behind for the prince to find. But I don't know if my stream will go that far into the new year. Depends how much excitement we get up to by then."

Denise really didn't intend on doing the stream much past midnight. Having a full-time job and a part-time job had worn her down. Maybe she'd go down to streaming three times a week or something once that sweet bonus cleared. It wasn't like she was going to quit the office job to do that, right? That would be quite a pay cut. She was just surprised that anyone was still watching and couldn't get their fill of her nudity with the archives.

They must really like her.

Denise looked at chat. "Someone is wishing that someone was with me so they could watch me walking..." She stood still for a second, bringing the laptop behind her back. "It's not as nice as it could be. This shirt covers my butt." She pulled the shirt up, revealing her behind to her audience. "I can't really walk like this with the laptop behind me, but... I'm not really in any hurry. So long as I avoid that janitor and where the party is, I'm almost certainly in the clear."

Chat threw out a suggestion as to where she could hide from the janitor: the ladies' room.

"Well, I'm sure he'll go in there to clean it, if he hasn't already." Denise said. "But sure, let's go hang out in the bathroom with our boners out like a bunch of very normal people." She walked down the hall. "I wonder where it is..."

Denise purposely strolled slowly through the halls, taking one wrong turn and turning back before 'finding' the ladies' room. Partially, it ate up a few more minutes to reach that crucial one-hour time limit, but it also made it seem like she was less familiar with this building than she was.

She stood outside the entrance. She pushed the door in quietly, looking over towards the mirrors. Then, she did something she didn't normally do when entering; she knocked on the door three times.

She held her breath as she waited for a response. A few seconds went by. No response came from within, so she walked inside.

Denise looked in the trash cans adjacent to the sinks, finding them all empty. If the janitor had already visited this bathroom... then she was free and clear for the rest of the night. She could set up shop here and run out the rest of her time in here.

"I really thought I'd never actually be streaming from a public bathroom like this." Denise giggled. "Isn't this what took down Dr. Disrespect? Streaming from a bathroom? I don't think my streaming site cares that much, though they MIGHT if I legitimately violated someone's privacy. They definitely wouldn't care if I cheated on my wife..." Denise brought her hand to her mouth. "Ooh, did I say that? I haven't even had a drink tonight. It's fine; it'll all be forgiven at midnight anyway. We can talk trash all we want."

Denise almost set the computer down on the sink counters to get some nice shots of her standing and wanking... but then, if anyone DID enter this bathroom, then she was caught. Instead, she brought her laptop into one of the stalls, the one furthest from the door. She took a seat on the toilet. As she sat down, she noticed one chat dimwit asking the misspelled question: "your married?"

With the laptop appropriately in her lap, Denise showed off both hands, no ring on either finger. "You know I don't believe in marriage. I only believe in masturbation and casual sex." She grinned. "Or professional sex." She leaned forward to turn the door's internal locking mechanism. It took a few turns and holding the door in to make the lock 'catch.' It reminded her of the decrepit condition of the lavs in her old high school.

"Wow, this bathroom isn't as nice as the rest of the building..." Denise observed. "It looks sort of like they remodeled the rest of the building, but left the bathrooms the way they were. Maybe it's just me, but this tile looks sort of like it's from the eighties."

Maybe Denise didn't 'observe' this. Maybe she was there when they did the remodel and noticed that the only bathrooms that were redone were the ones on the first floor, where clients or visitors were most likely to visit. Seeing the company spend money extravagantly in one area and pinch pennies in another... she sometimes wondered if she'd come into work one day with all the computers stripped out, all the work they'd done nothing but a stack of empty cardboard boxes like the warehouses of Crazy Eddie.

"See, this is why I didn't want to do this in a bathroom stall..." Denise held the edge of her screen as the laptop wobbled unsteadily on her knees. "You might have noticed that, when I'm in bed with this, I sit with it in front of me, not actually in my lap. Well, there's not as much space to do this unless I sat on the floor of the bathroom, which... I certainly am not putting my bare butt on the floor. At least this seat is designed for this."

Denise held her legs out and pressed them against the door, resting the laptop on her lower legs. It wasn't perfect, but the lighting was acceptable. Also, this position kept her face and cock in frame at the same time, and that's what really mattered.

Now that the audience had what they came for, except maybe that weird shoe guy, Denise could continue the show. Her hand went to her cock and pulled it upwards. Chat started to get faster as her heart rate rose in nearly equal measure.

Denise tittered. "I'm just straight up jerking it in a public bathroom. I'm broadcasting myself committing a crime... this feels really silly. Not that what I did in that empty office was much different. But at least I've got privacy here. And this angle makes my cock look HUGE. I should hold the laptop on my legs more often. But none of you little monsters watching our little show will spill the beans on me, would you?"

Someone crashed through the front door of the lavatory with such force, Denise wasn't certain that it hadn't been thrown open with a battering ram. The laptop nearly jumped out of her lap as she started. Had someone found where she was and reported this violation to the Fun Police?

Denise heard a set of heeled feet stomp unevenly into the room before pushing open the stall next to hers. The chat was momentarily afraid for Denise's safety, wondering if someone was looking to cause her harm.

The explanation was thankfully simpler than that, as the unseen woman got to her knees in the neighboring stall and retched as violently as Denise had ever heard in her life. It was like the woman was trying to turn herself inside out. She quickly hit the shortcut that muted her computer's built-in microphone. A few people missed why the stream went silent, so Denise made a few gestures to indicate the terror happening in the next stall over, enlisting such useful sign language as pointing a finger into her own mouth. She covered her ears with her hands to block out the sound for herself.

Denise looked down to the floor. One of the woman's shoes had come off of her foot. She put her own foot near it. It was too small for her. Oh, well. It's not like she would really steal this woman's shoes just because she didn't know her limits for alcohol consumption. It was too late in the year for Die Hard references, anyway.

There really wasn't anything she could do for this poor woman. Even her painkillers were back in her desk, not that they'd stay down for long. Denise peeked out the stall to see if anyone had followed her in here to hold her hair. When she saw nobody there, Denise ran away and back into the hall to escape the disgusting sounds.

When Denise found a stretch of unoccupied hallway, she addressed chat again. "You should all thank me for muting that when I did. None of you want to hear that. Maybe someone there feels like rewarding me for that? I mean, I could go back in there. She's still in there heaving her guts up. Not even sure how she's got anything left. Drink responsibly, everyone. Even on New Year's Eve. ESPECIALLY on New Year's Eve."

Denise rarely drank. Just one more reason she didn't mind working both her jobs instead of attending the New Year's Eve party. The only time her stream had ever seen her drunk, she had a Mudslide and a margarita from some chain restaurant for her birthday. That was the stream where she tried to suck her own dick... she didn't quite reach, but everyone encouraged her to keep trying. (She didn't tell chat she was drunk, OR that it was her birthday. They didn't need any personal information with which to possibly discover her real identity.)

She peeked around the hallway. She sighed and returned her gaze to her laptop. "Well... let's keep this on the road, I guess. I didn't think it'd be this tough to find some privacy in this huge building when everyone's meant to be at the party."

Denise crossed from what people here called the North Wing to the South Wing. They weren't really facing north or south, but nobody would stop making West Wing jokes if they called them based on more accurate compass directions. Connecting the two wings was the building's most distinct feature: the atrium that reached through all five floors, from lobby to skylight... and beneath which the entire party was taking place.

Before the rumble of the party a few floors beneath her got too loud or distinct, she muted the stream again and crossed the atrium. Surely, nobody was looking up OR down at her... right? She kept the laptop pointed at her and away from the handrails, walking nearly against the wall. To her stream, it would look no different than any other of the numbing, beige-painted hallways through which she'd strolled so shamelessly.

"Maybe there's another bathroom over here somewhere..." Denise said to her chat, once she was able to unmute herself after passing through a set of fire doors that blocked all the sound from the party. "What are the odds that someone else will bust in there and start puking there, too? But if any of these doors happen to be unlocked... I'd rather be in some random office."

Denise tried a few doorknobs, none of which turned. If she only had a key to the server room... what an amazing backdrop THAT would be for a wank! Even so, if she wanted to go somewhere very cold... she could just step outside.

The question came through chat. "What's through that door?"

"What door?" Denise asked, looking around. One of the several doors leading down this hall was barely ajar, but no light was coming from within. What a stroke of luck! She peeked her head around the doorway.

She first heard it, that unmistakable damp, fleshy slap of carnality. Then, she saw it. A pair tangled in romantic congress, a dark-skinned woman thrusting herself into a pale, curvaceous woman.

Denise smothered a gasp in her hand and leaned back out the door. Chat immediately remarked that they'd never seen her turn so red. What could have possibly embarrassed her so?

"There's two people in there... doing it." Denise whispered right next to the camera lens, not even sure if that's where the microphone was on her laptop.

Chat's reaction was varied. "So?" was a common question, wondering how this could shock and mortify the nympho walking around bottomless and erect in a strange building.

"No, I... I know who they are." Denise whispered. "They're the ones who brought me to this party."

Denise didn't use their names... but she had run into her boss, Miss Florentine... getting fucked by Denise's assistant Julienne.

She put her head through the doorway again. Her eyes had not tricked her. Miss Florentine was atop the desk, rear end just at the edge, with Julienne standing nude and thrusting her huge cock into Miss Florentine's pussy. Denise could barely see Julienne in the darkened room, but she knew it was her when she was lit up briefly by her phone. The tiny light glittered off her tight sweaty body, illuminating the edge of her distinct curly hairstyle.

If Denise hadn't recognized her shape, she definitely knew her demeanor. She didn't think of Julienne as a 'take-charge' type of person, but answering a text while engaged in a sexual act, as if compartmentalizing the simultaneous work and play... that definitely seemed like something Julienne would do.

And there was her boss, Miss Florentine, spread out across this desk like an upside-down tiger skin rug. Miss Florentine was that infuriating kind of full-figured mature beauty where Denise didn't know if she was approaching fifty or if she was younger than her. Her hair was shiny and perfectly straight, a ribbon of lavender color that looked almost silver in the dim light. She had a lovely hourglass figure centered with a narrow waist with the faint appearance of abdominal muscles. At the moment, they were hidden under her own huge cock, resting hard against her stomach, all while Julienne held her legs aloft and thrust into her pussy... her thick ass and stocking-clad thighs jiggling just a bit with each motion, one high heeled shoe wiggling loosely on her toes.

Maybe Denise shouldn't have told chat what was going on. A majority of them wanted to see the fun, but Denise flatly refused. "I can't do that! I shouldn't even be watching... and I DEFINITELY shouldn't be watching and masturbating, but... I guess the show must go on."

Denise set the laptop in front of her, able to see her as she peeked her face around the threshold and watch the fun continue. Julienne evidently had a lot of stamina. She was going non-stop since before Denise had stumbled upon them. Denise jerked her cock, feeling that feeling rise into her heart. She could pop at any second, and that was just with her hand! Chat hadn't seen her so worked up in months.

It's better that she didn't show her viewers this spectacle. They wouldn't appreciate it as much as she would, anyway. They were more than just a skinny black girl and a MILF-y Asian woman. Meek little Julienne, whom Denise had never heard so much as swear, was now stark naked and making love... not to her boss, but to her boss' boss. Was this their first encounter like this? Based on how Julienne kept looking at her phone during the fun, maybe it wasn't. Perhaps they had established these trysts to end each work day.

Denise couldn't help but feel a little left out. If Julienne had come to Denise and asked for this sort of arrangement... Denise would not have said no, even if it would be unprofessional.

She tried to keep her breathing shallow. She was quite close to them. They could probably hear her if she breathed too loud or spoke above a whisper. Maybe the tight-handed furious wanking would also clue them in, but Miss Florentine had one hand rubbing her own cock, so maybe they wouldn't notice.

Even in the dubious world of online pornography... this was wrong. She shouldn't be spying on any two people, whether or not she knew them, and even if they were too enamored to lock or even CLOSE the door. Isn't that what Fallout Boy sung about, other than shockingly weak self-aggrandizement?