The Joys of Modern Technology
I clicked the green button, and suddenly her video window was there on my desktop. She held up her phone for me to see, gave it a kiss, and then winked at me as she reached down between her legs with the phone.
She was sitting at her desk at work. I could see her office behind her, the window with a view of trees in the park, and a bookshelf full of binders. She was wearing a button-up white shirt with a camisole on under it, and a black skirt.
I couldn’t see it, but I knew that her desk was in a semi-private office near the entrance to her workplace. There was a large window next to her door, where she sat facing the hall. Anyone walking in or out had to walk past her office.
I tested our situation immediately by sending a text to her phone. After a second, I didn’t hear anything, but I saw her visibly startle and then blush and look at the camera.
“God, I nearly jumped out of my seat. I’m going to have to be careful,” she typed into our chat window.
“I’m going to keep you jumping all day,” I replied.
True to my word, I would send her a text every 15 or 20 minutes. She had agreed to keep her phone under her skirt, pressed against her clit all day. After awhile, she got pretty good at not reacting so that anyone but me would notice. But I could see the slight stiffening of her posture, or a momentary pause in her typing.
Once, I heard a coworker come in to start chatting with her and I quickly sent a text. She didn’t bat an eyelid, though I saw her reach over to grip the edge of her desk, and when her coworker left, she glared at me. I sent her three texts in a row for that.
She would have to leave her desk to talk to someone or go to the restroom, but she always put the phone back. I trusted her, but I still sent a test text shortly after she sat down each time, just for fun.
As the day progressed, I started upping the ante. I sent several texts in a row, or I would actually call and let her phone ring once or twice. The longer vibration from the calls would usually leave her slightly flushed and biting her lip.
Around 4, her boss walked in to discuss something. After a second, I sent a text.
No reaction. I sent two more texts.
Still no reaction. She was nodding patiently as her boss kept talking.
I dailed her phone and let it ring once… twice… three times… FOUR times… voice mail. I can’t be sure, but I think I saw her breathing quicken towards the end.
I wait a second and dial again. Once more, it rings four times and goes to voice mail. She seems to be trying even harder to avoid reacting, sitting primly, with her hands folded in her lap.
I give her a moment’s respite, and then dial again. While it’s ringing her boss walks out and she immediately turns to her computer and looks at me through the camera. “Please,” she mouths silently.
I hang up. She takes a ragged breath and closes her eyes, centering herself, and I dial again.
I small whimper escapes her lips and she grips the desk on either side of her keyboard tightly. Her eyes are closed and she breathes deeply as it rings and rings between her thighs.
As I hear her voice mail prompt start again, she stands, smooths her clothes down, grabs her phone and walks away.
10 minutes later, I get a text: “Had to go to the bathroom. Panties soaked. Took them off. Be home in 30 minutes.”
I grinned, closed my laptop and walked out of my office to follow her home.