Soma Ch. 02

Lauren just shook her head, and put the sex toy back in the bag.

"And as I think the panties exercise illustrated, with each progressive climax, you seem to be getting a bit closer to shaking the psychosomatic reaction to your clothes."

Lauren paused. The previous night, she'd thought it might have been her imagination. But just now, slipping in and out of the red hip huggers, Lauren had to admit that the sting, the pain, and the itching had all waned in their potency.

"Female hysteria," Adams said. "It was a fairly common medical diagnosis back in the day. Nerves, shortness of breath, irritability, and any number of other vague symptoms, they used to diagnosis female hysteria. The doctor would administer some type of 'pelvic massage,' to the point of 'hysterical paroxysm.' Orgasm, that is. It's why they invented the vibrator in the first place."

"Female hysteria?" Lauren asked, incredulity evident in her voice. "I have 'female hysteria'?"

"No, no. Of course not," the psychiatrist answered. "No one diagnoses female hysteria anymore. But the root causes here are still nerves and anxiety, and it seems that your body beat me to a treatment method."

"Look, I still have tons and tons of work," Lauren announced. She pushed the paper bag back in the psychiatrist's direction. "I still have to go line by line through this contract. I don't have time for dildos and nipple clamps."

Adams chuckled a bit, but pushed the paper bag back towards the blonde. In a more serious tone, he warned, "Keep it. If you get time tonight, when you're alone, you might reconsider -- you might even be able to wear clothes tomorrow, if you can bring down the anxiety levels. You don't even have to use it -- you can try doing it manually."

"Thanks, but --"

"If the choice is this or another rogue orgasm?"

This stopped the blonde in her tracks. Maybe Adams had a point. If she got herself off, on her own, in someplace private, wouldn't that dramatically reduce the worry of blacking out again, as she had that morning? Wouldn't that dramatically calm her fears about cumming again in a room full of her colleagues?

"Fine," the girl agreed. She took the bag, opened one of her file drawers, and crammed the whole package in way in the back.

They talked for a bit longer, and Adams took a quick blood sample, but the purpose of his visit had been served. Lauren had a tool for recovery, even if she was a bit wary of it. It had been a few weeks since she'd even masturbated, and Lauren had never been a disciple of regular self-pleasure - even before the Cortland Menswear acquisition had consumed her life. She certainly had never used a vibrator. But Adams had a point. If the multiple orgasms she'd suffered from that morning were to strike while she was in the middle of a meeting, she had no way of stopping them. At least, this way, she might be able to pre-empt her body in the privacy of the women's bathroom.

Ginger poked her head in the office a few minutes before Adams left, and announced she and a few others would be ordering lunch from the deli downstairs. She offered to pick something up for the psychiatrist, but the naked blonde insisted that doctor wouldn't be staying. So, though Lauren had hoped to spend her lunch perusing the contract further, Adams's departure was coupled with a visit from Rachel Wilks. The redhead set out her own lunch across from Lauren's at Lauren's desk, looking to provide her friend with some level of social companionship.

"Are you wearing...?" Rachel asked as she entered the office, pointing at the black and white garter still occupying real estate on Lauren's thigh.

"Oh, god," the blonde gasped, sliding it down her leg. Make-up, heels, and jewelry were enough; she didn't need to be slipping on garters and fishnet stockings to call even more attention to her immodest state.

"What'd the doctor say?" the redhead asked as she opened up her salad.

Lauren hesitated, and offered, "Not much. He thinks if I can bring my anxiety down, I might be able to put some clothes back on tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Really?"

"Maybe."

"Did he have any suggestions on how?"

Hesitation again. "Yeah, but....come on. I think he and I both know what's going to have to happen for my nerves to calm down. I've got to be able to get this contract up to McIntosh and be done with it."

Rachel nodded. "You thought at all about next week? You going to take a little time off?"

"I haven't really thought that far ahead," Lauren answered. On the one hand, she could certainly use a break from the office. She hadn't been home since Tuesday morning. "But I think I should come in, even if it's slow. Show up in a pantsuit or just standard business attire, just to drive home the fact that I don't always work in the nude. You know, put this out of people's memories."

"Right."

Lauren took a bite of her turkey wrap, an errant dab of mayonnaise collecting on her lip, and then dropping onto her left tit. She wiped it off with her napkin, as Rachel watched. "No stains, at least," the blonde offered.

They chewed in silence for a few minutes after that, neither sure of what to say. Eventually, though, Lauren started to talk shop, asking Rachel about the crosschecking she'd been doing that morning on the stock purchase agreement. The other girl was happy to oblige, even if her eyes did linger a bit too long on the blonde's left breast.

Lauren's mind began to drift. She knew what Rachel was doing. She'd been over the wording herself, two or three times. Rachel was providing more a final proof than anything else, and Lauren would be surprised if she turned up anything of any substance. But, she wanted to talk about anything besides her session with Adams, anything besides her nakedness.

Could there actually be any truth to what Adams had said? If she were to vibrate herself towards orgasm a couple of times that evening, after everyone had cleared out, could it be possible that she could actually get dressed tomorrow morning? Sure, she'd be stuck wearing whatever tank top or miniskirt she could find in the big box of lingerie under her desk, but at this point, wouldn't even just a bra and a pair of panties be a step up?

Lauren pictured herself in the red hip-huggers, and in a matching demi-cup bra that may or may not have even been in the box. She could even picture where the set had appeared that spring in the catalog, adorning the slender body of a brunette supermodel who had positioned herself alluring against the side of a pool table in a crowded bar. If the Victoria's Secret catalog was borderline pornography, the Eve Intimates catalog tended to bring the border itself into question. While Tyra Banks, Heidi Klum, and Gisele Bundchen always appeared to be modeling the latest Victoria's Secret had to offer in some non-descript beach house, Eve Intimates models found themselves standing in their bras and panties in pubs and restaurants, riding around in the back of a limousine in nothing more than a tight-fitting teddy, or showing off their corsets and garter belts in an airport terminal, a hay-filled barn, or empty beach. More than once had the FCC pulled one of their advertising campaigns from TV for being "way over line," and the catalog featured enough half-naked women in suggestive enough poses that, like Abercrombie & Fitch's catalog, it came with a "mature content" warning.

Lauren wasn't at the pool table in the bra and panties. She was, instead, leaning up against the copy machine directly across from her office. Hair done up. Dangerous, stiletto heels. Large, ostentatious jewelry. Her bra was just a bit too small, her exaggerated breasts a risk to pop out at any given moment. The hip-huggers were just a bit low, showing off the distinct line of her pelvis. And could that be...? No! Could it? Just a hint, a wisp, or pubic hair peeking over the waistband in the front?

Even if she'd been naked in the office on Wednesday and Thursday, there was something undeniably just as sexy, if not more so, about the sight of Lauren in red lingerie. There was an element of teasing, an implied seduction, in the sexy lace panties and bra. Her sexuality was on display, not just the lewd presentation of her naked nipples and cunt. Maybe, given the fantasy, Lauren might be better off going bare again on Friday even if a bra and panties were a possibility -- the image she had of herself was just too, too sexually charged.

Fantasy Lauren risked a quick glance up and down the hallway. No one was coming. She lifted the photocopier's lid, and with a quick reach around her back, undid her bra straps. Nipples peeking through her fingers, Lauren cupped her breasts. The bra itself was discarded, tossed casually into the recycling bin. The blonde, topless once more, placed her breasts face-down on the clear glass, pressed the large green button to her right, and emitted a soft moan as the copier sprung to life. Her tits were illuminated by a single strip of warm, white light, Lauren turned on just that much more by the machine's warmth and its gentle hum. One after another, black-and-white versions of her tits, mashed against the copier, slid from the machine.

In Lauren's fantasy, she risked another glance up and down the hall. Still no one. Smiling wickedly, she backed up to the copier, and used her arms to pull herself seated up onto the glass. She tugged the crotch of her panties to the right, sighing to herself as her pussy lips, already moist and in danger of smearing against the clear glass, rested against the warm, smooth surface. She reached for the copy button, and the machine whizzed to life. The Xeroxes themselves were what she'd been going for, but Lauren was treated to the warm, penetrating light of the copier, and the steady, gentle vibrations that the machine gave off. She moaned, sexual electricity shooting through her body.

"Oh, no!" she squealed, her legs spread and her lips exposed. She was going to cum.

"Oh, no," Lauren whined, back in her office. She had a mouthful of turkey and not even the security of a pair of red, lace panties. She was going to cum.

Rachel had landed on a tangent, talking about how her fist job in high school had actually been as a store clerk for Eden, Evelyn Apparel's version of the GAP or Old Navy. As Lauren's breathing became a bit more labored, though, Rachel lost interest in her own story.

"Are you alright?" she asked.

"You've..." Lauren's chest heaved. "You've got to go."

"Lauren!" the redhead stood, getting panicked. "Lauren! Lauren! Is it happening again? Are you okay?"

The blonde crossed her legs, hoping that might help. Instead, the pressure from her inner thighs against her pulsating pussy only seemed to make things worse. She clapped a hand over her own mouth, terrified that she was going to emit some sort of ululation that would give herself away.

"I've got to go get somebody!" Rachel reached for the door.

"NOOO!!!" Lauren yelped. She whispered loudly, uneager to alert attention from Ken Fuji in the next office over. He might have been down in the conference room, or at lunch, but he might not be. "No, no, no! Just go! Just go!"

"Lauren, I'm not going to leave you like this! Are you having some sort of reaction again? Is it the heels? Do you need me to take your jewelry off?"

"No, I --" she began, but a wave of sexual pleasure washed over her. "I...I...I...I'm fine." Another pause, for another wave. "I...I...I...don't need to take them off. It's not a reaction."

She puckered her lips, doing her very best to control her breathing. She sounded, though, as if she were practicing Lamaze, each breath huffed and puffed as Lauren tried to rein in the bliss emanating from her pussy. Her heart was beating faster, her body was beginning to quake, and Lauren felt a bead of sweat trickle down her back. She uncrossed her legs, bracing them on the floor for stability, and clutched the side of her desk with her hands for the same.

"Lauren? Lauren?!!"

"Oooooh," Lauren cooed in response, her eyelashes fluttering.

"What? What's happening?"

"Ungh," the girl grunted, biting her lip as she did so. Fuck it. If Rachel wasn't going to leave, there was nothing Lauren could do. Her entire body convulsed, and the girl arched her spine. "I'm...I'm...I'm....cummmmming...."

The last was a low whisper, but of such intensity that the redhead took a step back.

"Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh," Lauren mewed, shutting her eyes as she did so. "Just...just stand watch. Oh, god! Oh my god! Oh my god! Just stand watch. Make sure no one sees..."

Rachel could do no more than offer a simple nod, but Lauren had passed the point where she even cared any more. Her first orgasm hit, and it was all she could do to keep from screaming out in ecstasy. Her legs were spread beneath her desk, her knuckles going white from squeezing the edge and holding on for dear life. She shut her eyes, reeling under the explosions taking place deep inside of her.

"Nnnggghhh!" the blonde croaked, wave after wave of sexual energy overtaking her. She kept whispering to herself, everything coming out soft, but intense, before degenerating into nothing more than a string of curses. "Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!"

There was a pause, just long enough for the naked girl to catch her breath. Misreading the situation, Rachel asked, "Lauren? Lauren?"

"Not done yet," Lauren panted. No, she'd only just begun. She pressed her forehead up against the edge of her desk, her breasts dangling beneath her as she did so. Her body had taken her higher and higher still, only to drop her back down to begin again. She could feel the moistness in her pussy, could feel her skin sweating all over. She stuck to the leather chair beneath her bare ass.

"Oh! Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh my god!"

The redhead stood frozen on the far side of the office. She leaned towards the window every now and then to check to see if anyone was coming. But, at the same time, Rachel was never able to completely look away, fixated on the naked blonde writhing in sexual gratification, gripped by some unknown force. It was out of place, completely unexpected of Lauren Laframboise, and Rachel had a difficult time telling herself that yes, this was happening, in the middle of the day at work.

The blonde slipped from her shoes, finding more traction in the rug with her bare feet. She continued to lean forward, her head against the desk, and both hands still held tight. She bit down on her forearm, muffling the squeals and yips, silencing the exclamations to whatever deity was responsible for such religious fervor.

Lauren's pussy lips went numb after the second climax. Not that it mattered much -- by then, the depths of Lauren's cunt had become the epicenter from which her whole body shook. By the third, her clit began to ache, untouched but throbbing so much from the very beginning that the girl was no longer sure if it was pulsating in time with her heart, or if it had been the other way around. And, by the time the fourth struck, Lauren had gone far past the point of physical exhaustion. She fought the urge to just collapse, to fall into a deep, deep slumber, instead focusing her attention on the rhythm of her heaving chest. In, then out. In, then out. In, then out.

Tears were streaming down from Lauren's cheeks when she lifted her head to see her friend. Given what had just transpired, Rachel mistook the tears and smeared make-up for humiliation and degradation. But while there was no denying Lauren had enough of those emotions to go around, she'd begun crying out of simultaneous sheer physical joy and sheer physical exhaustion.

"Bathroom," was all that Lauren could mutter. She avoided eye contact with her friend as she tentatively took to her feet, steadying herself with an arm on the desk. Lauren was in no condition to be walking -- or even standing, for that matter. But she needed to get up, or else she risked blacking out again. She needed to put distance between herself and her office.

Ginger noticed the tears as Lauren hobbled by, but Rachel put her hand up and insisted that she would deal with it. No need to get more people involved, no need to embarrass Lauren more than she already had.

The blonde had no interest in trekking around to the other side of the building for the women's room, so she just stumbled into the men's.

"Lauren! That's the men's room!" Rachel gasped, a few steps behind.

"There's no one in here," Lauren mumbled.

Rachel followed behind, nervous that there would be someone inside, or someone that would come barging in a few seconds after them. Lauren, though, felt no such fear, and didn't seem the least bit unnerved by the fact that she was splashing bare foot through the puddles that formed in the men's room.

Lauren turned and stared intensely at the redhead, as if she were trying to see something inside of her. She seemed to shrug, before squatting in the middle of the men's room floor, and relieving herself into the drain.

"I'm fucked anyways," Lauren said aloud. "Might as well revel in just how disgusting I've become."

Rachel wasn't sure what to say. "Lauren? What? What's going on?"

The blonde, having finished pissing, stood and shuffled towards the sink. She rinsed her hands, splashing cold water on her face, and then ran a handful of cool water over her steamy slit.

"My body," Lauren answered finally. She sat her bare ass down against the edge of the counter. "My body has decided I need to relax."

"You don't seem all that relaxed to me."

The blonde shot her friend a half-smile. "Every muscle in my body is jelly right now. There's no tenseness, there's no stress, there are no knots. Granted, I can barely stand, but..."

"It just...happened?"

Lauren nodded. "It's been happening."

"This wasn't the first..." There was a momentary pause, before Rachel put two and two together. "Yesterday? Yesterday?!! Oh, God! In Bramley's office?"

Lauren nodded again.

"What about the psychiatrist? What did he say?"

The blonde swallowed hard. "I've got his prescription filed away. It's about seven inches long. Made of plastic. Vibrates."

"Oh my god!"

Rachel stared intently at her friend, trying to fathom exactly what Lauren was going through. She asked, "How many times?"

"How many times has it happened, or how many times have I orgasmed?"

"Um...both, I guess."

"Three," Lauren answered. Her body was still covered in perspiration, catching the fluorescent light from above. Her legs were parted, the blonde doing her best to release some of the heat issuing forth from between them. "As for how many times I've orgasmed...well, I don't know. Nine, maybe? I kind of passed out this morning, before anyone got here."

"Jesus Christ," Rachel replied. "And the psychiatrist, his answer is what? More?"

The blonde nodded again. "He thinks I can exert a little more control over when and where. And he thinks that if it lowers my stress enough, I can put on clothes again."

"Wait, what? So do you think you could go get dressed right now?"

"No, no. I tried this morning. It's not blinding, searing pain anymore, but it's not comfortable. I don't think I'm going to be able to lick it until the contract's in, though. That's the root cause of all this stress, right?"

"But, even after what just happened...?"

"Best case scenario? I might be able to put on a pair of underwear or something," - careful, she told herself, that's what had set her off in the first place -- "but they're still going to sting like hell."

Rachel ran her hand through her hair. Despite being approximately the same age and the same build, the pair couldn't have looked much more different than they did at that moment. Lauren stood barefoot in the shallow pool of water by the sink, naked save for a few odd pieces of jewelry -- choker, bracelet, watch, and a few rings, as well as a silver bracelet-turned anklet around her left ankle. Her breasts, completely out in the open, were still rising and falling with each labored breath, and her makeup, to be gentle, had seen better times.