Stephanie Unmasked Pt. 01

Perhaps she would be the one to surprise Bella next week by suggesting a trip to the beach? Her girlfriend had once confessed (to Stephanie's mortification) that she liked to sunbathe topless. She imagined Bella plonking herself down amongst other visitors at the most crowded patch of sand she could find. Probably right before a group of hunks passing a football around. The dark beauty would wait till she knew she had caught the attention of at least a few of them, before untying her bikini top and releasing her great big boobs. She would turn to Stagnant Stephanie with a smug expression, which would surely morph into open mouthed surprise when the so-called prudish girl boldly followed suit.

Stephanie spread her fingers in a fork, and traced her labia majora down, and then up again. She squeezed her fingers back together, and teased the delicate ridges of her clitoral hood. She ventured down, following the sensitive edges of her velvety inner lips. In Stephanie's case, those lips curled back to rest flat against her labia majora, and spread out wider than she had ever bothered to notice. Before, that part of her was well hidden by the nearby hair, and she recalled her panic the day prior, when the beauty technician had needed to touch her there. It had been necessary to manipulate her inner lips somewhat, in order to treat the outer ones.

But right now, as her thoughts turned sexy, she overlooked that yesterday she had felt intruded upon and violated. Now, she imagined that it was again the technician's fingers upon her labia, and not her own. She slid a finger behind the lip, gave herself a little pinch, and pulled outwards, testing what turned out to be surprising elasticity.

It was without any real conscious decision that Stephanie then progressed to tease her opening with her middle finger. Ordinarily, this is where she would cease any such untoward self-indulgence. But... not this time, apparently. This time, she simply did not feel like there was any good reason to stop. The conditions were just right in that bathtub, and the slight penetration of her finger felt deliciously naughty. If, for once, she was enjoying playing with her own body, then she might make an exception for herself. Just this once.

She angled her finger just right, and pressed in with a little more insistence. It's a long-standing injustice to women, that the 'tightness' of one's vagina is historically and universally used as a measure of one's virtue. Straight up nonsense, all of it. But, it had to be said that Stephanie was a perfect example of the stigma. Her canal was tight indeed, and yet, in this moment, she slipped in easier than she expected. It came as a legitimate shock to Stephanie that her body had made her secret passage a little slippery.

She pushed deeper into her love tunnel, just past the first knuckle, and gasped slightly at how good even that small penetration felt. She pressed around her fleshy walls, encountering the internal ridges that awaited to stimulate whatever protrusion she permitted to enter her. She withdrew her finger and reinserted it a number of times. She imagined a stern version of herself standing in her immaculate work clothes at the end of the tub. "And just what do you think YOU'RE doing, young lady?"

"Oh, nothing. Just gently fucking myself." She said it aloud, softly, and then giggled at the sound of her own voice uttering the small vulgarity. But she did withdraw her finger; there was something else she wanted to try. She placed her fingertips on her clitoral hood, and moved them around in slow circles.

"Mmmmm," the small moan escaped her lips suddenly, before she could even think about whether what she was doing felt good. Obviously, it did. She had a tiny clitoris nestled somewhere in those intimate folds, and despite reaching sexual maturity years ago, her primary mechanism for receiving pleasure had been going unused. But today, it was making its presence known. And its utility. A little button that had no use other than to build desire and trigger orgasms. A switch that had never been pushed further than the standby position was now flipped onto low power, and Stephanie was surprised at how readily her inexperienced body responded to her initiation of the startup sequence.

Her fingers glided over her smooth, fleshy pink hood, and the pleasure from her clit assaulted her in little jolts. It was like an old light bulb flickering on and off as it received current for the first time in years. Stephanie wanted more, and she glanced down in response to a sudden urge. Her breasts bobbed in and out of the warm water as the activity between her thighs became more vigorous. Her rosy pink nipples were aching to be touched, and there was no one else here to do it for her.

"Fuck it, if I'm really doing this." She slammed down the entire contents of the flute that occupied a needed hand, and reached out of the tub to set it down, immediately triggering a mild dizzy spell. "And that makes four," she murmured with concern, promising herself to leave the bottle alone from now on. Her breasts wobbled when she turned over, and water streamed off her semi erect nipples. She wondered if such an image would interest all those men who had approached her at work, at parties, and wherever else she had met them over the years. Met them, and instantly dismissed them.

She knew that it wasn't right - the way she indiscriminately shot would-be suitors down so quickly. But, she would be more approachable tonight. She constructed a telepathic invitation, decreeing that for tonight only, Stephanie Vice would be graciously receptive to all well-executed male attention, and willed it to reach the minds of whatever eligible bachelors may be at this moment making their own preparations for the ball.

Hands freed, she settled back into the tub, and cupped a breast while immediately going back to diddling her little clit. She pinched her nipple gently, and then... not so gently. She gasped at the sensation that was somewhere between pleasure and pain, and stared in curiosity as the nub grew to a filled out thimble right before her eyes. Was it her imagination, or was the pink of her nipples more pronounced than usual, her areolas darker, puffier? Maybe it was the extreme contrast with her white, unblemished breast. Or maybe it was a change in the flow of blood in her body. She reached for her other nipple, and pulled it outwards while twisting it a little, quickly achieving the same effect.

Stephanie closed her eyes and embraced her impromptu resolve to masturbate. The pleasure sparked from her clit in continuous waves now, and she saw no reason to stop. She could just keep doing this, so long as things continued to feel so good. She could keep going until the water threatened to cool, if she wanted. "I have to move somewhere with a bathtub," she promised her future self giddily, and then her mind wandered in tandem with her hands. Wandered among faces of people, mostly men whom she had encountered briefly, and some girls who were extra friendly to her.

"Stephanie, good news! I made it after all!" The fabricated voice of Lily added weight to her fantasy. She imagined her promiscuous colleague stepping into the ensuite, wearing a tight tank top, and the shortest denim skirt that only a shameless slut would choose to board a plane in. "Oh my God, Stephanie. Are you actually jerking off?"

"Mmmhmm," she replied out loud to the imaginary voice. "But, I'm kind of new to this. Maybe the amazing sexy Lily should show me how it's done?" Steph smiled at how rude her own voice sounded. In front of her, there was plenty of room for a slight person like Lily to join her. With legs out wide, her friend could just sit between them, and mirror her position.

"Why Stagnant Stephanie, I thought you'd never ask." She imagined Lily saying so, while peeling off her clothes to reveal all of her exotic golden skin, and of course, her own, likewise hairless vagina.

"I could do worse than Lily... but maybe I really should find someone else to share my new... style with?" She ran her fingers over her velvety, wide open lips. "And soon, before the hairs start to grow back". Stephanie laughed loudly after voicing words that she was sure she didn't mean. Did she not? Well, certainly she at least meant it as far as permitting the fantasy.

"I like it like this," Lily said. She was sitting opposite Stephanie, her butt on the edge of the cast iron tub, so that Steph could properly study all the dirty details of how she liked to masturbate. She pushed her knees out wide, and began rubbing over her clit with three fingers. The imaginary Lily was rubbing harder and faster than what she was doing, so she picked up the pace to match.

"Ooooh," Steph moaned as the pleasure in her clitoris intensified. She had never thought of herself as a lesbian, but Lily was a person she felt safe around, and someone who wore her sexuality with confidence. Steph was horny enough to embrace any sexy thought, no matter how silly. The sensual woman in her fantasy finally got all the way into the tub, and crawled up to her on hands and knees. Stephanie opened her mouth to welcome Lily's in an affectionate, exploratory kiss.

It was now Lily's hand on her breast, and her nipple was pulled hard enough to make her squeal. At the same time, Lily's other hand replaced her own between her thighs, and the more experienced woman knew just how to stimulate her clit to guide her towards her long overdue release.

And then a new thought popped into her head. Her fantasy with Lily fizzled just as it was getting good, as the object of her desire shifted to the male persuasion. She didn't even know Jerome Masterson's face, but she instantly procured one for him. A most handsome image fitting for the Mysterious Leader of their firm, and the provider of all these luxuries that she was presently enjoying.

She abandoned her breast to push a finger back inside her vagina, and she quickly found the best spot to concentrate her rubbing. "Mmmm, yes," Stephanie whispered. She attacked her sex with both hands, and her body heated up beyond what was attributable to the bath water.

What if their CEO had not permitted such an elaborate suite just for the girl's use after all? What if he was planning on staying there too?

I guess, he would have every right to do that...

Was it not likely, even, that he might turn up at any moment? He could let himself in with his own key, without so much as a knock on the door. He would enter his master bedroom, and place his suitcase on the desk there. How would he react to finding feminine belongings already strewn out on the bed? Oh - and her carelessly discarded travel clothes on the floor, including her underwear?

Stephanie rubbed her pleasure zones with a little more pressure. She imagined Jerome picking up the black panties under the pretense of returning lost property to its owner, and then ever so casually holding them up to his face, breathing in the musk that inhabited the gusset, and so learning a girl's scent before he even saw her face.

Wait, where did an abhorrent thought like that come from?! Stephanie had picked up on suggestions that many men liked to sniff women's underwear, but the sense in it eluded her. It had just seemed like the domain of particularly nasty perverts, not something a decent, regular man would think of. And yet she pictured her boss doing just that, and somehow it was the most natural thing in the world. It was as if she were an animal in heat, leaving a scent trail to lead a potential mate to her nest.

Jerome would, with her little panties in hand, waltz straight into his ensuite, and find the culprit just as she was right now - nude, and shamelessly masturbating with closed eyes, mouthing out the 'ohs' and smiles as that exact scenario ran through her imagination. He was not one to get mad and order her to leave - no, he was a man who would have appreciation for what she was doing down there. But nor would he be such a gentleman that he would leave her to her own devices. He might instead make himself comfortable, and watch her with a smile.

But why should he be content to settle for such a restrictive view of the action? Maybe he would lift her sopping wet body out of the tub with powerful arms, and plop her on the vanity, before ordering her to continue her self abuse within his full view. Would she be emboldened enough to put on the most lewd show imaginable?

And how long would he be able to stand it, being a passive bystander? How close would she get to her release by her own efforts, before he would step in and take over? Would he pull out his cock, already rock hard, and take her virginity straight away? Or would he start by teaching her the best female masturbation techniques? Perhaps the scent in her panties would have appealed to him so much that he would want nothing more than to taste her from the source.

"Stephanie, you deviant!" she smiled as she scolded herself. "Do try not to think about your boss that way. He might look at you tonight and immediately guess all of your fantasies!"

Maybe he wasn't so kinky. By her understanding, men were pretty obsessed with having their dick's sucked.

"It's fine if you want to get that comfortable, Miss Vice. But you can still make yourself useful while you take care of yourself." She would open her eyes in time to see him unbuttoning his pants as he walked over to her. She wouldn't be able to escape in time - and besides - she was naked! And once that cock sprung to hardness right before her face, she would be in no position to refuse her boss a little overtime. Despite the calling from her better judgement to end the fantasy, she felt that even the imaginary Mysterious Leader could not be defied.

"Shit!" Steph said loudly as she felt the tension in her sex rise to a new threshold. She didn't need experience to know that she was about to have an orgasm. She hadn't consciously decided to take things this far - shouldn't her first time be at the hands of a man she loved? No. It felt too good to stop now. And besides, masturbation didn't count as losing one's virginity. Did it? This was already too long overdue, and she realised that the outcome had been inevitable since the moment she had permitted herself this concession. No, this treat.

She opened her mouth amid her ecstasy, and then it was being filled by Jerome Masterson's huge cock. "Mmmmmm," there would be no use asking him to be gentle, because her mouth would be stuffed so full that she wouldn't be able to talk. She wasn't sure what a penis actually tasted like, so she just imagined him to be warm and salty. Like tears.

"Oh, God," Stephanie was panting the words. "You're so good..." the pressure she had amassed had to burst in the very next moment. "Ahhhh-" she panted as she worked her fingers hard, at last giving in to the electric pleasure that buzzed between her clitoris and belly. At last, she was ready to find out what all the fuss was about.

*Dinnnnng!*

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Regardless of the reason, Stephanie surprised herself with the sudden curse. But she was thoroughly mortified at having been intruded upon in such a rare, private moment. A moment that was utterly ruined by the onset of panic. No, that may well have been the most justified f-bomb of her young life.

Stephanie's instincts assumed immediate control, and, disappointed as she was, she climbed out of the tub, leaving her intimate business with her body bitterly unfinished. She needed something to wear - and fast. A thin, Auream Grand embroidered bathrobe hung with the towels. It was the obvious choice as something to cover herself with, without keeping the person behind the door waiting for too long.

*Dinnnnng!* The door chimed again.

Maybe it really was Jerome Masterson.

"Oh, shut up!" she hissed, and then, louder, "just a second!" She wrapped the robe around herself and quickly fastened it with the sash, before hurrying out of the ensuite and through the bedroom. She had only left the bedroom door open a little, and in her haste she chose to do a silly shimmy through the gap, rather than taking the time to pull it open properly. "Oww!" She bumped her hip on the door's edge, but paid it no mind as she quickly closed the distance to the front entrance.

She was saturated from her neck down, and she scolded herself for the wet footprints she left along the soft, woolen carpet. She got to the door and reached out for the handle. Stephanie winced from the embarrassment of having been... sprung (Stephanie, sprung? Perish the thought!)

She was indeed preoccupied with her shame, and didn't even think to use the eyehole to confirm if the person standing on the other side might even have a valid justification for interrupting her privacy. She was more concerned about how long it was taking her to answer the door, as if that were some giveaway as to what she had been doing. Would the person be able to tell? Would her face be too flushed? Would there be some... smell in the air? Stephanie rashly turned the handle, and threw the door open.

There stood a stylish looking pair, a man and a woman, holding carry cases of some sort. And they were staring at Stephanie with expressions of open-mouthed surprise.

Dammit, they know. Somehow they know!

After an awkward pause, the woman made a gesture of fixing the buttons on her blouse, and finally Stephanie looked down.

Oh God. No. Fucking. Way.

The bathrobe she had hastily thrown on was completely open; the single knot she had tied in the sash had failed, and the fixing now hung uselessly at her sides. It must have got caught on the bedroom door handle when she bumped it! Both her breasts were bared; in her frantic activity, they had pushed their way out of the folds of material. There they were, in full view. Stepanie's pale, supple breasts, looking a little rosy from the hot bath, and glistening with many water droplets. Her nipples were swollen and firm; bright raspberries that seemed to point to the two strangers and invite them in for a suckle.

Her gaze travelled lower; by lady fortune's merciful concession, the robe still hung in front of her vagina, but that was of little comfort in the moment.

For several more seconds of hell, Stephanie stared at the indecent display of her own body in complete disbelief. And then, at last, she reacted. A brief but honest scream escaped her throat, and she slammed the door shut in dismay.