Revelations of Amanda Ch. 02

"Thanks," Amanda murmured, looking up at him. She didn't even like him, but in that moment, in the state she was in, she felt so attracted to him that if he would just squeeze her ass, she would kiss him. Although she told her boyfriend a thousand times she didn't care much for being spanked, she thought - desired - that this off-putting man would give her a harsh slap on her ass when she walked away. Hidden beneath her skirt, her shapely cheeks felt tingly, like they were anticipating it.

'What the fuck is wrong with me today,' she thought.

"Steiner is a good guy, but he can be a jackass like everybody else," Victor said, his hand still not leaving its place. He pet her there for a second, which felt weirdly amazing, soft and forceful at the same time. "I've known the guy for years. Don't let the stress get to you."

Amanda wondered why the hell Victor was being so nice all of a sudden, a perfect gentleman, but she guessed it was because it enabled him to touch her back like that and not come off as inappropriate.

Finally she made herself move and started walking away. He didn't slap her ass, of course, but she couldn't help turning around after a few seconds and yes: she caught him staring at her. Usually she hated that, but now, if she was honest with herself, it gave her a thrill. Without even realizing it, she relaxed her waist a bit, giving her gait a little more spunk, her ass swaying for his visual enjoyment.

After she calmly closed the toilet door, now that no one could see her, Amanda's movements suddenly became frantic. She looked at herself in the mirror and, outside of blushing like mad, she was surprised how normal she looked. Even before entering one of the stalls, right there were anyone could come in, she pulled up her skirt all the way over her ass, hooked her fingers beneath her panties and brought them down. They were absolutely drenched in her juices; she could even feel a drop slowly descending the inside of her leg.

'What is it that you always want, John,' she thought as she entered the farthest stall from the door, putting her naked, exposed ass down on the toilet seat. Fuck it felt cold. 'To choke me? To hold me down? Spank me and finger my ass? To fuck my mouth?'

Her bra felt way too restricting. She pulled off her shirt half way, took it off, then brought her shirt back down. Now everything was set: she looked like a complete slut. There was no time for subtlety - she was so wet that, when her hand found the spot between her legs, two of her fingers immediately went in, then another, as she rested her palm on her clit.

Amanda started moving her hand, grazing her clit while three fingers probed her insides. Without her bra, the fabric of her shirt chafed her puffy nipples and made them hard as stone, so she unbuttoned her shirt half way in a frenzy, placed her other hand inside and pinched one, making her yelp. The jolts from her nipples and her clit were soon in perfect sync, and she was about to make a spectacle out of herself.

Of course, her mind went high. It was not deliciously empty yet, that would come soon, but instead it was quite the opposite: filled, surrounded, searching for the thoughts that would get her there.

She had assumed she would fantasize about Mike, but it was Victor who first came to her. She imagined the middle-aged fuck pushing the small of her back, guiding her here, to the toilet. In her mind he bent her over the sink and grabbed her hair, arching her back painfully. Then he pulled up her skirt all the way to her waist, exposing her, and tore her little panties right off. She would be so wet for him, so compliant, purring like a kitten, pushing her ass back into him.

'I know you're not allowed to, baby,' she told her boyfriend John in her head, 'but Victor really went to town on my ass today... He spanked me until my ass was red, baby...'

And there it was: with a soundless cry, Amanda felt her hold body tense up, then release, waves of pleasure coursing through her body, cumming with her fingers still wedged inside her pussy, as images of cheating on her boyfriend with this creep from work melted her mind. She felt pulverized into submission by her desires, overpowered beyond doubt, unable to control herself. But the pleasure didn't end, and she just kept riding it, grinding her pussy into her hand now. Even though the first one hasn't ended yet, she could feel another orgasm incoming.

'Victor made me his slut, baby,' she continued her imaginary confession. 'He made me submit to him like I never did to you... Your girlfriend is his dirty little slut now, baby, you're my boyfriend but he... he is my daddy.'

And that very thought made her cum again. With a stifled groan, just seconds after the last one ended, a new series of ripples coursed through her, feeling deeper than the first time, like more parts of her decided to join in on the fun. To stop her legs from shaking uncontrollably, she put them up on the sides of the stall door, spread out, so that if anyone was to open them, they would immediately see her leaking pussy with her hand inside it, grinding desperately.

As she was coming down from the second high, she saw something that immediately horrified her. She didn't lock the stall. In a way, it wasn't just fantasy anymore: anyone could, actually, open the door and see her like this, like the slut she is, spread out in the toilet because she couldn't cool herself down. It could even be Victor. The thought made her nauseous - and made her realize she could cum again.

Okay, since she was indulging herself like this already, she decided to keep on going. But she was not going to think about fucking Victor anymore. No matter how hot it made her feel right now, Amanda was not going to be the girl who came three times in the toilet after the office creep fucking touched her back. She was *not* desperate.

So she closed her eyes and thought of Mike again. The fantasy that was so dirty and wrong just last night became by now the safer option, somehow less bad a thing she could do to her boyfriend. And again, just like last night, circumstances pushed her to fantasize about worse things: if she was to keep her mind clear of Victor, she better be doing something really horrible with Mike.

She thought back to the image she created in her head, back at her desk: of her boyfriend's best friend sitting down, his cock hard in his sweatpants, making sure to think of his bulge as noticeably larger than John's.

'Mngh,' she moaned, trying to keep silent.

It became perfectly clear to her. It was, she thought, the truth. Amanda didn't know if Mike was really packing, although she desperately wanted him to be, but at that moment, that didn't even matter. She needed to confess something to herself. It wasn't a fantasy anymore, and in her mind, she wasn't talking to her boyfriend anymore. She was talking to herself.

'I want Mike to fuck me,' she thought, closing her eyes. 'I want him to fuck me even behind John's back. I am going to let him do whatever he wants. I... I have a crush on him,' and she felt herself getting close, 'I have a crush on Mike! I do! I have a crush on Mike and I want to be his slut! Mike, baby, fuck me...'

"Fuck me Mike," she mewled out, as the third orgasm in a row rolled over her like a bulldozer. She put a hand over her mouth to stop herself from screaming, and her foot hit the toilet stall door with the heel as her legs started shaking. Floating in a cloud of endless bliss, Amanda kissed and bit into her hand, in her hypnotized mind doing that same thing to Mike's beautiful, strong arm as he was above her, pushing that big cock of his into her determinedly, penetrating her, entering her bareback. As her orgasm kept going, another, fourth finger - the little one - found its way into her pussy too, all of them pushing as hard as she could make them.

"Ohhhh," she kept moaning into her other hand, which now had a small bite mark on the side. The silent confession made the whole thing unexpectedly emotional, and she felt like she could cry. Luckily, the waves of pleasure ebbed and slowed down before that could happen.

Once she was back in the real world, Amanda was terrified - and quick. She got up and put her panties back on, feeling wobbly on her feet, and realized that her panties now felt cold, damp and uncomfortable. She thought about going out without them, but no: that would be too much. She felt how sweaty she was as she put her bra back on and hurriedly left the stall. Fuck, everything felt uncomfortable now.

'Thank god for the bun,' she thought, looking at herself in the mirror. Her makeup got quite smeared in places, but she wiped it off with a handkerchief until she was satisfied. Was she going to pull it off, really? She just had a crazy masturbating session in her office toilet, but she didn't look too bad, and no one entered to see her in the act. Hopefully no one heard her either.

However, there was an unwelcome surprise waiting for her outside: right at the printer, seemingly annoyed, was Victor. He looked up to Amanda when she walked out in the hallway.

"Feeling better?" he asked. She looked at him, surprised at first, then worried. But the question seemed genuine. It didn't seem like he heard anything.

"Yeah," Amanda said, before correcting herself. "Actually, not really. Maybe I'm coming down with something."

"Yeah," Victor said, looking her up and down. "It sure seems like it."

Before he left back to his desk, he did something that made Amanda's stomach turn.

He winked at her.