Wet Workdays - Sex Stories

Wet Workdays

... the bitches, just hid behind their computer screens, no doubt eager to see how the drama played out. Sometimes I hated working in a female-only office. “I. Need.” I ground out between clenched teeth. “To. Pee! Now!” I was breathing hard and sweat was forming on my forehead. The pained moan when a cramp shot through my stomach was probably audible for everyone. I wanted to sink into the ground. Marietta bent down and opened a drawer from her desk. I couldn’t see what she had pulled out, but she slowly stood up and walked across the room towards my desk. A knot formed in my stomach. Was she going to fire me? A few feet away, she stopped, grinning widely, and showed me what she had been holding behind her back. With a gleeful grin, she put a wide glass bowl down on the floor. My eyes widened and my mind raced. She didn’t…? “You can choose. Either you walk outside, but then you shouldn’t bother coming back. Or you do it here, while everyone watches you, as part of your punishment. Your choice!” Another cramp shot through my tummy and I gasped. She couldn’t expect that of me? My co-workers were lurking from behind their screens, cheeks flushed with excitement. I couldn’t lose my job. I had just saved enough to afford me a nice holiday abroad, the first time in five years, and I wasn’t going to let Marietta ruin this! My knees shook, and I had to move slowly. I tiptoed around the desk, cheeks aflame with embarrassment. But I’d not run and hide! Marietta’s eyes widened when I ...

... approached the bowl -- obviously, her intention had been to kick me. Perhaps I had spoken my mind one time too often. But she had set the stage, and there was no going back for any of us. We both knew it. I had never before in my life felt so lewd and dirty as when I pushed my panties down in the middle of our office, with a dozen eyes watching. I didn’t have time to waste. I stepped out of them and threw them under my desk with one foot, then pulled up my dress and knelt down over the bowl. Gasps rung in the air -- I couldn’t say if from the audacity of the display alone or if my clean-shaven pussy with its lightning tattoo, a sin from the past, had anything to do with it. I took a bit of aim, but then I had to close my eyes to block out the stares. As much as I needed to go, as painful the pressure on my bladder already was, it was hard to relax enough to pee into the bowl. A soft hissing sound suddenly filled the air, and the warm, wet feeling that came with peeing arrived with a delay. I had, in a way, alway enjoyed the act of peeing, but now, with the added, embarrassing intensity, it felt deeply sexual. My skin tingled with shame, but my pee flowed and flowed, splashing noisily into the bowl. I wanted to die on the spot, but -- the realization sent goosebumps up my back and made me dizzy -- I also wanted to reach between my legs and stroke my pussy, and for a fraction of a second, my hand twitched. What was happening to me? It didn’t seem to stop. The hissing kept going on ...