Masturbathlon

Glistening pink.

I stared, mesmerized. Pink panties were pink but when they glistened, they meant only one thing -- pussy.

"Done looking?" Alexis asked, startling me.

"What?" I jerked my gaze guiltily upward.

"Done looking?" she asked again, parting her legs a little wider. Dangerous -- very dangerous.

"Alexis, I don't think this is a good idea," I protested mildly as she pushed up her skirt until the entire goods were on display.

Don't look, I cautioned myself but my eyes went lower, drawn like a moth to a flame.

She had shaved her pussy down to a very low patch. Her full lips stared at me in their full glory. My mouth watered.

"Well?" she prompted.

"I can't do this," I got to my feet.

It was her turn to stare and she giggled. I followed her gaze and looked down at the tent in my trousers, then back at her. A guy can only hold out so long. I swallowed the lump in my throat and returned to my seat.

"Why're you doing this?" I asked, trying to put off the inevitable.

"I can't keep giving you hints forever," she sighed. "You wanted me -- I saw it in your eyes when we met -- and I wanted you."

I made to get up and go to her but she stopped me.

"Let me see your penis," she said.

Let me see your penis. It sounded so clinical, so formal, like something doctors used when conversing or lawyers used when grilling clients -- it was hardly the word to use in a sexual connotation.

I unzipped my trousers and produced my cock, feeling slightly foolish as I held it by the base to keep it upright for her inspection. I was fully erect and she surveyed me with unabashed interest taking in the veins on the sides, the striation where the foreskin had been removed and the slightly open hole at the top.

Her hands went down and she began to play with herself, opening her legs completely for my viewing pleasure. She fingered herself with one hand and twiddled her clit with the other.

I wrapped a hand around my shaft and began to masturbate, matching her tempo stroke for stroke. My eyes met hers and we smiled at each other.

When I looked between her legs again, she had stopped playing with herself. She leaned slightly backward and moved forward in the chair. I watched dry-throated as she traced the outline of her asshole with her finger, wetting it with the juices from her cunt. When her finger popped in past the sphincter, I unconsciously began to jerk off faster.

We came within seconds of each other, her eyes wide with wonder as the semen leaped from my cock.

We've had a few more sessions since then but I still haven't fucked her.

The Ambassador

The actress I had been talking with for the last few minutes was beginning to get on my nerves. I looked around frantically, trying to locate the Count.

"...so he asked me if I'd tried Ecstasy and I told him I heard it was pretty addictive and then he said..." the actress just wouldn't let up. I resisted the urge to tell her to shut up.

I finally located the Count. He was standing with a group of diplomats looking almost as bored as I was. I caught his eye and made imploring faces. His mustache twitched with amusement as he excused himself.

"...the next day he didn't show up on the set and the director was mad. Turned out he..." The actress wasn't out of steam yet. She stopped when the Count got to us.

"A good evening to you Madame Zelda..." he bowed gallantly.

"Zeldman," she corrected sharply.

I slipped away unnoticed, glad to get away. I spent a while wandering before I saw her.

She was wearing a red dress cut low behind her, standing with her back to me. Well-honed shoulder blades, straight neck, smooth back, and then that derriere -- not too big, not too flat. I imagined clasping it while holding her to me, her breasts flat against my chest.

I wondered if the front view was as spectacular as I strolled in a semicircle that would have brought us face to face.

"Ooh Mr Lancaster, there's someone who'd like to meet you!"

I stifled the automatic frown as I turned towards the annoying media escort I'd been assigned for the evening.

"Yes?"

"Over there," she took my elbow and guided me towards the person she wanted me to meet, trying all the while not to fall over in her high heels.

"May I introduce the High Commissioner of Guyana to the United Kingdom, Ms Nadia Shabab?"

The lady in red turned to me and my breath caught in my throat.

"Ms Shabab, Mr. Lancaster. Mr Lancaster, Ms Shabab."

"How do you do?" we said together.

I couldn't stop myself from looking. She was even more spectacular up front. Smooth, ebony skin, high cheekbones. Wood would do for her, I thought.

"I saw some of your sculptures at the gallery Mr Lancaster," she said. "They're spectacular."

"Thank you Ms Shabab," I smiled.

"If I'm correct, you've done only one full statue," she remarked.

"Yes. They take too long to work on. I prefer busts," I explained.

"Really?" she had a mischievous smile on her face.

"I mean, busts are more interesting to work with," I said hastily.

"Oh," she lifted an eyebrow.

"Yes," I said. "Especially in the nude. There's a lot of detail."

"Interesting," she remarked. "And I suppose that's why you work only with female models?"

I averted my gaze. Was she being flirtatious or was she trying to get me to say something offensive? My eyes met hers again and I tried to gauge her intent.

"The female body is beautiful," I replied. "I feel privileged to replicate it in my work. Of course, in order to fully appreciate all its features, it has to be in the nude."

"It definitely shows in your work," she said. "I know this is hardly the place to discuss business. Can we talk sometime?"

"Definitely ma'am," I said politely and took her proffered hand.

It was a full fifteen minutes after she left that I opened my fist slightly to sneak a peek at the silky panties she had pressed into my palm.

_________________________________________________________

It was drizzling when I walked out of the gathering and made my way towards the black limousine described in the note concealed in the panties I had been given.

"Mr Lancaster?" the man standing beside the car asked.

"I'm Lancaster," I said.

He pulled open the door and ushered me into the darkness of the back seat before jogging around to get behind the wheel.

"Drive us around the city, Amar," the voice came from beside me.

The partition shot up and we were alone.

"I happen to do a little sculpturing, Mr Lancaster," the High Commissioner said.

"Really?" I asked, my throat dry. I wasn't listening to her. The thoughts running through my mind all ended with one common fact -- she wasn't wearing any underwear and I was still holding a pair of panties in my fist.

"Yes, mostly male," she sighed. "The phallus is such a sight isn't it?"

I was making rapid connections in my mind and it didn't take me long to figure who she was.

"You're the one called Shonell," I stated unnecessarily.

Shonell was an anonymous sculptor who only carved phalli -- with foreskins, circumcised, bisected, and all the other variants. Her work didn't show up in major art exhibitions but they thrived in the entertainment industry. A particular actor I knew was an ardent collector and I had one as a present from my ex.

In reply, she found my zipper in the darkness and extracted my cock. She wrapped her fingers around me and stroked up and down my shaft, then her tongue was in my ear and I was tingling from the sensations she evoked in me.

Our lips met in the darkness. She explored my lower lip, sucking on it, tasting it, teasing me, then moved to my upper lip. By the time her tongue found its way into my mouth I had overcome my nervousness and reached for her breasts.

They were pert and soft when I weighed them in my hands. I found the straps of her dress and tugged them down her shoulders, conscious all the time of her wily tongue dipping in and out of my mouth, never quite letting my own tongue catch u with it.

I undid her bra and cupped her breasts. my thumbs found her nipples and they tautened at my touch as I stroked them. I broke off the kiss and went after her breasts like a maddened bull. She stopped masturbating me and moaned softly, stroking my hair.

I pushed her away from me and located the hem of her dress in the darkness. Getting on my knees on the floor of the car, I buried my head between her thighs and got her cunt opening on the first try. This time the moans were louder and she gushed copiously onto my tongue. When she screamed, I knew I had brought her to orgasm.

Without giving her time to recover, I got into my seat and pulled her into my lap, impaling her on my cock. It seemed like forever before I got all of my dick into her, then I was gripping her ass and thrusting away.

I erupted inside her and as our mixed juices ran down my cock, I wondered if life got any better than this...

________________________________________________________

Yesterday a package arrived in the mail. Even before I opened it I knew it was from the woman known as Nadia to me, Shonell to others. I didn't have to measure the sculpture, but I did and it was a perfect fit.

I'm working on a bust now and I known I have the right dimensions. I just know.

The Real Fantasia

It was my second week at Q Corp. Everyone was friendly and seemed to go out of their way to make me feel at home. I'd met a few of the girls on my team and they were real lookers. I was waiting to survey the lie of the land before making a move.

"Hello Clarke!" someone stuck her head through the door of my cubicle. I turned.

It was Uemura, the petite chattery girl working with me on the profiling team.

"Hi Uemura!" I grinned, glad to get a break from what seemed to be intentionally obfuscated code.

She walked in and peered over my shoulder.

"Bob wrote that didn't he?" she asked.

I nodded and she sighed.

"We've been trying to get our clients to move to the new API. It's cleaner and faster. Meanwhile, inhouse we still have people like Bob using stuff we depreciated two revisions back."

"I think I've already checked in some of that," I said.

"Dan's going to raise hell when you tell him," she shook her head. "Sometimes I wish I could kick that Bob of an asshole in the nuts."

That was Uemura. Swearing and cursing in that cute accent while keeping a pretty, straight face. I smiled inwardly.

"I'm new here. I wouldn't want to challenge someone who's been here since you rolled out the very first version, if what I hear is true," I shrugged resignedly.

"I'll talk to him," she reassured me. "Did you get an invitation to the party?"

"What party?" I asked as the email notification box for my email program popped up. "There it is."

It was from Jenny, our project manager inviting us to a party at 7pm.

"What's it for?" I asked Uemura.

"Beats me," she lifted her shoulders slightly. "I guess you'll have to get used to it. We have parties all the time. After a while we stopped having any reasons. We just have parties and no reasons, yes?"

We laughed at her little joke.

"So tell me, Uemura-chan, are they any fun?" I asked.

"Normal stuff. Beer..."

"I teetotal."

"Tee-to-tal," she repeated. "I don't think I've heard that word before. What does it mean?"

"I can't give you a dictionary definition, but it means I don't drink alcohol."

"It's good you mentioned it. We can arrange something else for you."

"I don't understand," I was puzzled. "You said 'we.' Is it something you and Jenny are hosting together?"

"Parties are a company affair -- everyone pitches in," she explained. "Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it."

"I think I will," I replied.

She looked at her watch, signifying the small talk was over.

"I've got to get back to work," she said unnecessarily. "Just leave out the packages Bob worked on until we come to an agreement. It wouldn't make sense to check them in only to have Dan pull them out of the repository."

I watched her leave, my eyes on the subtle motion of her small, almost imperceptible ass under her jeans. I gulped, admonished myself for my roving eyes, then resumed working.

____________________________________________________________

That evening I had nothing doing. I'm not exactly a party man. My only recollections of parties were the ones from my college days -- loud music, too much booze, and then the smell of pot and whatever else people smoked.

I briefly contemplated not going but after channel-surfing for a few minutes with nothing interesting on TV, boredom finally got to me. I looked around for a clean pair of jeans and a t-shirt, making yet another mental note to do my laundry.

When I got in the party was already in full swing. The dance floor was alive with company executives jiving with low-level coders. The music blaring from the speakers was a cacophony of sounds that I wouldn't have termed music even if I was high on crack. Everyone seemed to be having a great time.

I walked to the bar to get a drink and while away time.

Bob was manning the bar. He had on a pair of headphones and was doing the best jig he could from behind the bar. I asked for a Coke and he poured me some brandy. I didn't complain. I found a seat and pretended to sip from my glass.

"Having a great time are we?" someone sat next to me, out of breath. She had obviously just come off the dance floor.

"Yes," my voice lacked conviction. Jenny laughed.

"It's pure bullshit, but it works because of what's to come later," she winked.

"Really?" I asked dryly.

"Yeah," she winked again, taking my hand. "Let's dance."

I didn't have time to protest. She dragged me onto the dance floor and I tried to move as well as I could with her.

There didn't seem to be any logic to our movements except that she was rubbing her breasts against my chest one moment, then the next had her back to me and was brushing her ass against the crotch of my jeans.

"This is tuneless!" I shouted above the din.

"It's meant to be!" she shouted back.

Good God, what have I gotten myself into? I wondered.

I excused myself and headed for the bathroom. When I pushed the door open, I stood open-mouthed.

I recognized one of the girls on my team backed against the wall. Her skirt and panties were in a pool around her high heels and kneeling before her, almost in reverence was an intern. His head was buried between her legs and from where I stood I could hear her moans as he licked her.

I was aware of my erection when the crotch of my jeans tightened. I had never realized I had the voyeur in me but I doubt they would have noticed me even if I had walked right up to them.

She stroked his hair adoringly, a look of pure lust on her face as his tongue played with her cunt. I saw him briefly disengage, then rise to his feet and penetrate her in one single thrust before I left hurriedly to cool off, the urge to relieve myself gone.

When I rejoined the party some more meaningful music was playing. Bob had taken off his headphones and I was able to get a Coke.

I retired into a corner to sip on my drink, the images of the intern going down on my colleague fresh in my mind and serving as a reminder that I hadn't gotten laid in months.

"May I have this dance?" I heard Uemura ask.

"Where've you been?" I turned to her.

"Do you want to dance or not?" she asked again. She pulled me to my feet before I could object and we joined the others on the dance floor.

Before long I was moving in ways I never knew I could. My partner was lively, and I found myself wondering why I'd thought it wasn't going to be swell minutes before.

A slow number was put on and Uemura came into my arms. I fished my handkerchief out of my pocket and helped her wipe the sweat on her face. She smiled gratefully.

I can't remember when we made contact but some moments later, she had her face buried in my chest. I rubbed her back gently, moving my hands slowly down until I got to the beginning of her bottom.

I took a deep breath when I slid my hands even lower until I was cupping her buttocks. I kneaded them gently, pulling her even closer.

"That feels nice," she sighed. "Rub my back."

We both knew I wasn't rubbing her back.

I kissed the top of her head, then buried my nose in her hair. She smelled wonderful -- sweaty from dancing, but wonderful.

Taking encouragement from her sighs, I hiked her short skirt up slightly, and massaged her warm, panty-clad bottom. She tilted her head upward and our eyes met. She was blushing.

I realized she was guiding us towards a darker corner. I turned so that I had my back to everyone and slipped my hands into her panties, my thumb finding her clit. She tilted her head up and we kissed -- slowly and tentatively at first, then wildly, not getting enough of our tongues.

My erection was more pronounced now and it rubbed against her abdomen. She rubbed her palm against my crotch, then deftly, unzipped my jeans and popped out my cock with some difficulty.

I was too far gone to care if everyone was watching. I peeled her panties down and my finger zeroed in on her asshole. I traced the wrinkles, somewhat smoothened by the sweat in her crack, and she jerked slightly.

"Relax," I whispered. She nodded as I spread her cheeks even further for unrestricted access.

Her fingers were wrapped around my cock and she masturbated me as gently as the lack of moisture allowed. The pressure was beginning to build up at the base of my shaft. I wanted her to stop... but I didn't want her to stop.

When my cock jerked, she spun me around to face the others. I was aghast but there was little I could do. There was a thrill from the taboo-ness of facing the group and shooting my cum across the room from my pulsing cock.

When it was over and I began to soften, I stood facing them sheepishly. I had no idea how I was going to make a graceful exit. I scanned the room slowly, my eyes connecting with each person's, trying to gauge their reaction to what had happened.

Everyone was silent and I felt beads of cold sweat forming on my neck and running down the hollow of my back.

Whatever expectation I had of what would happen next didn't include Bob giving me the thumbs up from behind the bar, then the eruption as everyone cheered.

It was surreal. I looked round again and slowly, realization dawned on me.

I was at an orgy.

Jenny was straddled over Dan's lap but I could see his cock, glistening with her juices, between her legs. Mubarak, the Pakistani DBA has his hand inside the blouse of one of the marketing executives. Everywhere I looked, I saw people getting it on.

I turned to Uemura. She had stepped out of her panties and skirt and was wearing a broad grin on her face.

"Why, you witch!" I said in mock anger.

She laughed, then turned and ran. I followed.

We dashed out of the party room, heading for the offices. She turned a corner and when I went round it, she jumped into my arms, knocking the wind out of me.

She wrapped her legs around me and we kissed again, taking our time this time. She wrapped her legs around my waist and I supported her by placing my hands under her bottom.

I moved to the wall and held her against it.

"Why didn't you tell me it was an orgy?" I asked.

"You wouldn't have come if I told you, would you?" she asked back.

I thought for a moment, then shook my head, "No."

With my teeth, I ripped off the buttons of her blouse. She wasn't wearing a brassiere. I played with her breasts, holding her nipples lightly between my teeth and flicking my tongue against the tips. She held my head to her, the low moans coming from her throat telling me I was doing well.

I went lower, licking down her abdomen, enjoying the salty taste of her skin. I paused briefly at her navel and she giggled like a schoolgirl when I sucked on it.

I moved still lower but it wasn't bright enough for me in the corridor. I lifted her off the floor and headed for the conference room.

Without breaking my stride, I switched on the lights and placed her on the table.

"Is this necessary?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied. "I want to see all of you. I want to see your pussy."

And your asshole, I didn't add. I would probably have freaked her out if I'd said that.

I parted the soft folds of flesh and began to lick, Her legs opened wider as she moaned with pleasure. When my tongue found her hiding clit, she grabbed my head and came violently.

I wet my finger in her cum and brushed it against her anus. Her orgasm hadn't subsided and it was a while after she was done cumming before she noticed. She was strangely quiet, not moving except for the occasional flex of the ring of muscle. I could tell it was a new experience for her and she was too shy to talk about something that taboo.

"Well?" I prompted, breaking the silence, my finger stroking her. "What do you think?"

"Freaky," she whispered. "I can't believe I'm enjoying this."

I chuckled. "That's normal," I said. "It's pretty."

My dick was back to life again. She helped me step out of my denims. Taking my penis in her hand, she brushed it against her slit, then eased the head in. She was so wet I slid in without much effort. I placed my hands under her hips and she wrapped her legs around my waist.

The walls of her velvety cunt, smooth and slippery with her juices felt like heaven. I thrust away enthusiastically, never wanting the moment to end. We both came at the same time and my cum was still scalding her sugar walls when she flipped us over on the conference table and began to ride me.

Surprisingly, my erection hadn't subsided. I played with her asshole as I moved my hips to meet her bouncing on my cock. I could feel another orgasm building up. There was the familiar tingling sensation at the base of my cock...

___________________________________________________________

...And then I felt the wetness of soaked my boxers. I tossed off the sheets and switched on the bedside lamp. The time by the clock said it was 7:00am.

Damnit, I was late!

I shaved and washed in record time, grabbed the first shirt and pair of pants I saw and joined the rush hour traffic.

When I walked into the Q Corp building, I hurried to my cubicle to see if I could get done with my assigned task before 9.

I found Uemura behind my workstation, calmly tapping away at the keyboard.

"Hello Clarke," she said without turning.

"Hi," I said. "Thanks for the help."

She turned round and flashed me a smile. "We all help each other here -- it's really nothing."

"I'm sorry I overslept," I explained. "I had some silly dream that..."

I stopped, realizing I had almost given it away.

She swiveled round to face me. "What dream?"

"It's nothing," I said hastily. "Something about a wild party."

Her eyes twinkled with mischief. "You'd better hurry along and see Jenny then. I'd like to hear about your dream."

I plopped my laptop bag on the desk and hurried to Jenny's office.

When I pushed open the door, my mouth hung open. She was bent over her desk and Dan was stabbing his dick in and out of her from behind.

"Hello Clarke," she called cheerily. "Would you like to join us?"

"Ummm, no," I said quickly and shut the door.

When I got back to my cubicle, Uemura was waiting for me.

"I'm not sure I understand," I said, embarrassed. "I don't remember driving back home."

"That's because I fucked you out," she said the words easily. "Bob and Ivan took you home."

I nodded, dazed.

"You look tense," she remarked. "Do you want me to give you a blowjob?"

"What?!"

"Relax," she said. "It's like asking you if you want a drink."

She brushed past me. When she reached the doorway, she stopped and said, "Don't forget I offered you one."

This was going to take some getting used to.