Panopticon

Clara was responding more than The Mystery Man had intended. His rehearsals were getting farther and farther away from reality as Clara #4 became not Clara #5, but Clara #6. An overly flirty Clara. A hungry Clara. A Clara that suddenly breaks into a grin and informs you she knows what you want, and if you can keep up.

The Mystery Man tries to keep up. He refuses to believe Clara knew about his plan to seduce her. Dramatic irony. Even as Clara crawls across the couch over to him, he still stutters. He's suddenly seeing barely anything. The Panopticon became a state of near blindness. He looked too close, and cannot see ahead.

Clara #6 is not letting up. Her hands wander across the body of The Mystery Man, the body she's secretly wanted for so long. Human beings want to be noticed by those they notice, to be desired by those they desire. But never to they want it to not be mutual. Clara wanted him as much as he wanted her, and The Mystery Man had rehearsed only the scenario where he wanted her more. He was done for.

Her hand rested on his crotch, my crotch. Clara #6 was not one for words, but words were all that were rehearsed for The Mystery Man. The only words she used was to ask him if he liked this, and wanted her to continue, as she moved her hand around over his pants, teasing him. All the Mystery Man could do is admit he liked it and plead for her to continue.

Enhance. Enhance. The Mystery Man now has his back against the wall, and #6 isn't acting like the Good Girl that is Clara #5. No, Clara #6 is definitely a Bad Girl, purring as she sits on her knees in front of The Mystery Man. The subtle lust in her voice has lost all subtlety. Clara #6 is a slutty Clara. Her submissive yet authoritative eyes look into those of The Mystery Man as she slowly, teasingly unbuttons his pants, releases his cock, and gives it a hungry lick.

My job? I couldn't tell you in that moment. I was so caught up in the initial surprise of Clara #6 emerging that I had no plan. No rehearsal. No vantage point. The Panopticon had come down, and now I could look all around if I so wanted. The only thing I gazed at was Clara's own look, her lustful eyes locked on mine as she took my cock into her mouth for the first time. I moaned, and Clara took her mouth off of my cock to give me her classic laugh, the laugh she gave me when The Mystery Man had turned up the charm and started flirting with her. Soon, she was back at it, bobbing her head back and forth as I could only moan and pull my head back so far it hit the wall. Another laugh. Do your job. I grasped the back of her head and started to pull her into my dick, becoming more forceful with every thrust down her throat. Clara #6 was still such a Bad Girl, she only giggled in obedience. Clara #6 knew what she was doing, Clara #6 had done this before. Swishing her tongue this way, swishing her tongue that way, pulling the cock deep into her throat for a second before coming up for air. The Mystery Man still is paralyzed with no course of action to take. He tries to improvise, but he can't find the ability to rehearse on the spot.

All he can do is keep his hands on her head, trying not to mess up her perfect hair as she keeps going. The little sucking noises and deep moans Clara is producing drive The Mystery Man wild. She only takes her mouth off for a moment to jack off The Mystery Man as she winks and asks him if that feels good. It feels more than good, it feels great. Intoxicating. Enough to drive a man crazy. Enough to turn any Good Man into a Bad Man.

She delicately licks the underside, enjoying every shiver she gives The Mystery Man. she stands up and practically slides her way up his body, giving him little kisses all the way up his neck until she gets to his lips. My job? Accepting. I'm seeing the whole of Clara now; I'm not looking too close. Clara had me. The Mystery Man was caught so easily off-guard. Maybe she had rehearsed this before. The Mystery Man couldn't even tell when Clara #6, slutty Clara, had grabbed his hands and put them on her perfect breasts.

The Mystery Man couldn't even tell when he was following suit by almost ripping off Clara's shirt. Clara's job? Accepting. She only giggles like a hungry slut as her shirt gets taken off and she unsnaps her bra. The Mystery Man is not as interested in her breasts as her ass, but he's such a Good Man that he kneads them for her as he kisses her deeply. She accepts, and pulls his body close. She's grinding her body into his, as he desperately rehearses in his head what happens next.

What happens next. What happens next. She's taking off her pants, and replacing his former position against the wall. Clara #6 almost becomes Clara #4 as she slowly peels her panties down her shapely, perfect ass. Before she's done The Mystery Man can't resist playing a little with her ass, kneading it, kissing it, licking it. Clara #6 is definitely enjoying being his little ass-slut, and moans her approval. Do your job. What happens next. Intercourse, they call it. Look it up.

He lines up his cock with her pussy, and he's such a Good Man that he asks if she wants it. In her sluttiest voice, Clara begs for The Mystery Man to give her his thick, meaty cock. Enhance. Enhance. The head of his prick pushes slowly into her pussy, and Clara gasps. This is a new sensation. She knows she wants him, so badly. Human beings want to be noticed by those they notice, to be desired by those they desire. Finally, it was fully mutual. The Mystery Man was truly a Good Man again, now that Clara #6 was nothing but a dirty slut that wanted more of this man.

This Good Man needs no more persuasion. She has let him know where he stands. He thrusts fully into her, earning a sharp shriek from the shivering she. Clara #6 is a loud girl. She's a Loud Slut. An Eager Slut. The Mystery Man wastes no time and picks up speed, grabbing Clara's hair and yanking it as he leans in close and asks if she likes it rough. Dramatic irony. Of course she likes it rough. Do your job. What happens next.

Clara #6 answers anyway, begging for it faster and deeper. She wants to feel well-used, and why would a Good Man deny her such a thing? But he's not done yet. The Mystery Man wants one more thing. He wants poetic justice. He first found her because she was on display, so it was only fitting he would take her on display. As he informs her of the plan, Clara only emits a devilish laugh, walks across the room, and takes her new position. The Mystery Man pushes her against the window, lines the head of his cock against her sensitive pussy, and thrusts forward again.

Now, Clara #6 is on display. She's pressed up against the window, getting her pussy fucked from behind, for anyone who looks at the window to see. She's an Exhibitionist Slut, a Public Slut. She can feel the cool glass pressed against her nipples and a hard, thick cock in her pussy. She must be in heaven. With the hand that's not supporting her against the window, she lets go of the glass. After finding her balance, she reaches down to her clit and starts rubbing in circles. The Mystery Man is pumping in and out of her as fast as he can, grabbing her one leg and hoisting it up. The angle is everything. He wants to make sure she's a Comfortable Slut. Even so, she asks him to fuck her like she's a Cheap Slut, a Worthless Slut. Clara #6 is a silly Clara -- she always has worth, always to The Mystery Man.

He can feel tension building below the waist. Anyone would. Enhance. Enhance. He knows that he's addicted to Clara -- gripping her skin, the feeling like hot silk. Listening to her screams and moans, the most seductive sound on Planet Earth. The song of the Siren. The grip of her pussy, as if her body was tailor-made for his. As if her body had rehearsed for this moment. Thrusts became poundings. Poundings became drilling. Drilling became a non-stop motion as both parties felt the inevitable rising. Clara moaned and bit her lip and cried out that he was the best fuck she ever had. She encircled her clit the other way and savored the feeling of the glass pressing against her body, and prayed she was being watched, and envied, in the moment. Finally, her eyes shot open, her exhilarated, excited, exhibitionistic eyes becoming blind to the world as she cried out in orgasm. The world blurred out to her -- she could see only pure bliss, pure passion. The closer you look, the less you see.

The Mystery Man shoved his body into hers as he couldn't take it anymore -- the two shared a connecting of the mind, soul and body as they moaned together, cojoining in euphoric bliss. And Clara was a Bad Girl, not waiting for The Mystery Man to put on a condom. Now she was getting what she had aimed for the whole time. Dramatic irony. She was a Filled Slut, a Procreating Slut, a Lost-in-the-Feeling-of-Accepting-the-Cum Slut.

Breathe. Breathe. Do Your Job. The two leaned against the window for what seemed like forever before The Mystery Man gingerly lifted himself off of her, and allowed her the space to move. Clara #6 became Clara #7, an embarrassed Clara, an overly shy Clara. A Bad Man would feel bad for this elaborate plot, and how he essentially tricked her into thinking you were a Desirable Man. A Bad Man would see the overly unsure Clara and realize he manipulated a girl from work to make her an easy target to fuck. Good thing The Mystery Man was a Good Man. He knew Clara had her own agency. Each Clara had their own agency. After all, she enjoyed herself, even though she didn't know his plan, or have a counter-plan. Dramatic irony. And he knew from the get-go that he had this in the bag, that this exact event would happen. Nikhedonia, they call it. Look it up.

Shy little Clara, Clara #7, apologizes for the noise and how crazy she gets. The Mystery Man is a Good Man and talks with her about how he enjoyed it and liked it, and how he can't wait to see her again soon. She doesn't know how unsure he is about seeing her again, and whether it's a good idea. She doesn't know he'll be watching her over the next few days, deciding how he feels. But that's okay since he's a Good Man to her Bad Girl. And he's such a Good Man that he shows remorse that he has to go when a few minutes and conversations pass. He reassures her he'll see her again, and that they'll talk on Facebook. And he leaves.

What happens next.

The job the next day feels a lot more monotonous than usual. He did it. He completed his goal. I completed my goal. Clara was no longer a far-away fascination -- she was past tense. Or present tense? Was she still a fascination, did I want to pursue her long-term? I didn't know. I couldn't see the future. The closer I looked, the less I saw.

And I saw Clara. I almost held my breath when she first popped up on my video feed. Enhance. Enhance. Pattern recognition played in heavily here, as I noticed she was acting a bit off. My breath caught in my throat when she waved everyone off for lunch, but didn't go herself. She wasn't going to the sandwich shop. Did she know The Mystery Man wasn't planning to go?

It was just Clara on the floor. She was the only one on the feed, so it was just she and I. How romantic. She looks around, a naughty smile blooming on her face, and opens Facebook.

She sends me a message. Hey. I don't want to be rude, so even though I could ignore her, I reply immediately. Hey. We chat about how much of a nice time she had last night. Chatting became flirting. Flirting became planning to meet up again, and I say I'll be busy for the next little bit. Oh, is that so? I think that her reply has a sad tone. Dramatic irony.

Clara gets up from her chair, and looks around the room again. Then, out of nowhere, she slowly lowers her pants. Clara #1 jumps to Clara #6 as she becomes completely naked from the waist down, putting one foot on her desk so I can get a better view. I can't help myself. Enhance. Enhance.

She messages me again, still one leg hoisted up. Remember this position? Are you sure you'll be busy? My mind is a whirlwind. Out of nowhere, a memory reaches me. A few months prior to meeting Clara. A company party. No one paid me any attention, except one girl who asked me what I did. And I answered, barely looking at her, thinking how much of a waste the party was, and only looking down at the floor. The closer you look, the less you see.

Clara #6 starts playing with her clit as she keeps messaging me. I think you remember me now. I like your new beard, just how long have you been going to the sandwich shop? It certainly was clever how you seduced me, just how could you have managed that? Dramatic irony. I was never the one seducing Clara, any one of them. All of the Claras, they resided within a Clara #8. A goddamn genius.

She doesn't give up her messages. So, bold choice not to use a condom if you were never going to see me again, but I think you'll be seeing me a lot more. After all, I might be pregnant, and don't you think we'd make a great couple? A great family?

Baffled became astonished. Astonished became impressed. Impressed became utterly in love.