Think About It
by VWscribble
site: none
Note: The Sponsus website is no longer being maintained and has gone down; Patreon has added barriers for adult content creators. I’m afraid I don’t have the energy or the time to try to start up at yet a third site, and I writing for free isn’t really an option. So I’m finishing this story, and will put up a couple of commissioned pieces, and then I’m probably done on the EMCSA. I’ll leave stories up as an archive here at least for a while. Thanks to all who read and supported my writing. It’s been fun. You can email at vwscribble@gmail.com for a bit still.
Parts 3 and 4
Part 3
Carla had told Stan a lot of things. He was, after all, her best friend. She trusted him.
She’d shown him things too. Not exactly things you showed a best friend, necessarily. But it had seemed natural. After she’d thought about it. If you tell someone how wet you are and that you need to finger-fuck yourself right now, and they looked concerned and say think about it, it only made sense to pull up your micro mini to your hips and spread your legs so they could see you get your hand all the way in there. And then when they got so hard it only made sense to think about it, think about it, think about their heavy balls in your hand, the friction as you jerked, how you couldn’t come until they came and then it would be so much better than you’d ever thought of thinking of it.
Things, in short, had somehow gotten out of control. Stan was…she was sure he was doing something to her. Though that was okay. Since she trusted him. Especially when she swirled her tongue around his rigid cock. And thought about him cumming. She really trusted him then.
She’d felt really relieved that first day when she got to work and realized how much she trusted him. She knew things had been weird with them, with him asking her to wear a skirt and dress fun and flirty. Thinking about it, though, she’d realized it wasn’t weird at all. She’d worn that purple micro mini, but set it off with a perfectly respectable white top and suit jacket. If the top was respectable the bottom would be respectable, she thought as she thought about it. Wouldn’t it?
That was not exactly the reaction of her coworkers though. At least, based on the double takes. George’s mouth had fallen open and stayed there as she strutted past on the matching purple heels. Mike the mail guy had run the cart into a desk and had turned so red he just about glowed when she leaned over to ask him if he was okay. He’d actually looked at her chest not her legs and she’s thought that was weird given the respectable top and then she realized that she had forgotten to wear a bra.
Also she was now morally certain Jordana was lesbian. Or bisexual. She was into girls, was the point. Based on how round her eyes had gotten behind her glasses. She’d kept it together better than most of the guys, but…well. There were stares, and there were stares, and Jordana’s had been a stare.
A stare with maybe a drool. She could feel the other woman’s eyes on her ass as she swayed away.
Carla was not into girls but she was feeling into just about everything these days. By the time she got to her desk she was ready to hump the chair. And maybe the stapler.
She was thinking of going for a session in the bathroom right away. Or maybe more than one session. Then she wondered if she could get away with…right at the desk? The skirt was so short. She was…thinking about it. Maybe more than thinking? The hem, and her finger was…mmm. Oh.
“Carla?” Stan said. “Are you all right?” He was leaning over her. Closer than she’d have usually liked but of course she had been thinking about how much she trusted him so it was probably okay that his eyes were right there where her fingers were at her hem. Under her hem. Wherever.
The point was, he was worried about her. She must have made a noise. Out loud. Maybe she was flushed. Maybe her titties were hard and poking and hard. Because of how much she trusted him.
She smiled. “Hi, Stan!” she said. “It’s great to see you!” She bounced up and impulsively gave him a hug because he was her best friend. He made a little noise. Of course she noticed that he was standing up while he was standing up. It was hard to miss when it was pressing into her waist. That was kind of gross since she didn’t find Stan attractive at all. She remembered she didn’t find him attractive, even when she was thinking about humping staplers. But…it was Stan. He was her best friend. And wearing flirty skirts was fun. She resisted the urge to give the cock a little pat as she pulled away. Good old Stan.
Good old Stan looked a little out of sorts himself. He was breathing heavily. He actually adjusted himself, then realized and got even more flustered. She shook her head. What a goofball!
Finally he sorted himself out and insisted she come into his office and tell her what was wrong. She kept saying there wasn’t anything wrong, but he was like, “Oh, but Carla, you made a noise you sounded like you were hurt,” and she was thinking about how much she trusted him and before she knew it she was telling him about how she was just so fucking turned on all the time wearing this tiny purple skirt and she’d even forgotten to wear a bra and she was just soooo wet. So wet. She’d been thinking about playing with herself later in the bathroom, and then she’d been thinking about it and before she knew it she was…well.
“It won’t happen again, though, Stan,” she said earnestly, leaning forward so he looked at her tits instead of her legs. She put her hand on his knee. She could do that because he was sitting beside her on the couch in his office. It was nice of him to offer support. She made sure not to touch his erection, which she knew he couldn’t help. She was super wet herself. It was just one of those things, being really horny on a couch with your boss who you trusted.
“It’s just one of those things,” she said, “being super horny on a couch with my boss who I trust!” She giggled. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud! I just keep thinking how I trust you so much! Even more than my fiancé! I haven’t even told him how horny I am. Or shown him this awesome skirt!” She patted it near where…mm.
Stan noticed. He was attentive. It was one of the reasons she trusted him.
“Well, look,” he said. “You, uh, you can’t go through the whole day just…wanting to, um…” his eyes were on her hand which was…oh she should stop that. She did. He seemed to recover a little. He cleared his throat.
“What I mean is. Relief. You need relief. And, um, at your desk is not, um. Professional. It’s not professional. Also don’t want you to get caught since you’re my, um, friend. So, uh, so…”
She couldn’t believe they were talking about this. She felt warm. Embarrassed. Yes. She felt embarrassed. But also…nice. She could talk about anything with Stan. Good old…
“So,” he said, “if you ever need to, um, relieve yourself. Touch yourself. Finger…um. You can just come in here. On the couch. And, um. It’s private.” He smiled, awkwardly. Also, though, the smile was a bit feral. He didn’t exactly look like friendly Stan who was her best friend. More like some gross nerdy entitled asshole staring at her tits. The kind of guy she would shut down in a minute. “You can just come in and go to town,” he concluded. “I won’t mind.” That smile again. Wider. Grosser. “I’ll even enjoy it.”
She shook her head. Her juicy cunny seemed to seep out of her brain, and suddenly she had a brain. What was she doing? She was sitting on her boss’ couch with her boss’ erection talking to him about how she was so horny she’d been masturbating at her desk. What was wrong with her? What was wrong with Stan?
She stood up. She said something innocuous, polite but not too polite. She wished her skirt weren’t so, so short. She took a step back.
Stan blinked at her. “It’s okay,” he said. “You can trust me, you know? We’re friends, right?”
And of course she did. Of course they were. She just started thinking about what a good friend he was, and before she knew it she was back on the couch.
And she was still horny. Just about leaking. And of course she trusted him when he said he’d just do paperwork at his desk and she could…do whatever. He wouldn’t even notice, he said. He smiled at her, that goofy (feral) smile.
She dithered a little more. She waited till he’d gone behind his desk to code and studiously not look at her. He said he wouldn’t look. He said it was okay. And she did trust him.
The first time she was trying to be quiet and keep her little purple whisp of cloth kind of at least sort of over her slick bits. It made it a little awkward. She kept glancing up at him. He wasn’t looking over. Of course he wasn’t. She trusted him.
She thought about how much she trusted him. It was weird. Had she always trusted him? She thought about it. Her hand sped up. He was a good friend, just sitting there, letting her think about what a good friend he was as she….
She bit her lip. As she thought about him not watching her but maybe watching her because she trusted him and they were such good friends. The first orgasm didn’t so much take the edge off as it showed her just what edge, exactly, she wanted to go over. She didn’t forget Stan was there but she realized that she could of course trust him, and the more she trusted him the more she could fuck herself until it was like she was fucking herself with her own trust. A trust that felt firm, hard, solid. Firmer and harder and huge. She thought about it filling her hard, over and over.
She said someone’s name. Not her fiancé’s. It didn’t matter. She could trust Stan. She came again.
Finally, she was too tired and fucked out to keep fucking. Her head rolled back. She licked her fingertips, idly and lewdly. Her panties were…somewhere. The tiny skirt was nowhere near covering her anymore. Her legs were splayed out, her cunt spread shamelessly, leaking fluids.
Stan was totally looking at her. And more than looking. He was obviously stroking himself through his pants.
“Uh, sorry,” he said. “That was…oh my god that was hot.”
Her finger went back to her clit as if magnetized. She made slow circles. She should be angry, she knew vaguely. It was hard when she was…was she gong to cum again? “Stannnnnn,” she said. She meant it to be a whine, but it came out huskier. “Stan,” she tried again. Her voice was still smokey. “You said you weren’t going to watch.”
“It’s…oh shit, Carla. I’m sorry. You’re just so…look. I, uh, maybe you could, uh. I think I’d have better luck not looking and getting work done if before you got into it you…maybe help me out?”
She gave him a level look. “Help you out?” she said. “Why, what do you mean, Stan?”
He seemed to be about to asphyxiate. It was cute. Good old Stan. Who was her friend. Wasn’t he? She should think about that. She slipped a finger inside as he stuttered and thought. She was in fact going to cum again. She could feel it close.
“I…” Stan said. “Oh fuck. I’m so hard. Could you jerk me off?”
His pants were down. His penis was out. Not stunning in size, but big enough. And very hard. She licked her lips.
“Aren’t you going to ask me to think about it?” she said. He made a noise, somewhere between a choke and a gasp and a moan.
“Would you th…” he said, desperately, but her fingers closed on him before he could say it.
He came hard and quickly. The first time. The second he had a little more stamina.
Then somehow they got talking about more sex stuff. She knew she could trust him. She admitted she wasn’t really into blowjobs, that she kind of got turned on by fantasies of public sex, and that she didn’t have a lot of experience with anal. And she told him she hadn’t been…doing much, really, with her fiancé. Not on zoom, not on the phone. She’d even put him off from coming down that weekend. Even though she was really turned on. It felt wrong to think about sex with him. She wasn’t sure why.
He smiled, and, because he was such a good friend, he suggested some things for her to think about.
End Part 3
Part 4
Carla was thinking about breaking up with her boyfriend.
She had the phone out, in fact. She knew it was a little harsh to break up by phone rather than in person, but on the other hand she didn’t want him to drive all the way down, meet her, and then have her break up with him. That wouldn’t be fair to him. Or to her.
She shifted her butt a little. She squeezed. She felt the tip at her….
Oh. The dildo was so big. So…
“Do it, you little whore,” Jordana said from behind her. “Dump him hard while I fuck your brains out.”
She thrust back shamelessly. So slick. It was splitting her open. Right into her brain where she was…hard to think but all she could think. It was hard to remember his number. Hard to press the numbers when she was being pounded. Pounding.
“Come on, Carla,” Stan said. “No stalling. Think about it. He’ll know what a whore you are. When you break up with him. While you’re being fucked. That’ll feel good, right?”
It felt good. It felt really good. “Yes!” she said.
“Hello,” Len said. “Carla? What’s going on?”
“Len, I..think…I’ve been thinking about seeing other people,” she said. “It’s not you. It’s my sweet, slick cunt. Oh my god!”
She came. Behind her Jordana sped up. Carla thought about Len hearing her cum. She came again.
The week had been something of a blur. A slick, delicious blur. A slick delicious blur leaking out of her hot snatch.
She kept thinking about slickness and deliciousness and hot and snatch and…
Stan. Good old Stan. Her best friend. With benefits. Those benefits being that he fucked her remorselessly. And helped her to get fucked so that she didn’t have to masturbate by herself all the time because as much as she liked to masturbate to get the really good deep fuck she needed her own fingers weren’t enough she needed somebody else. Everybody else. Needed.
Stan had explained while she deep-throated his cock. She loved to go down on him. She’d thought about that a good bit. How when you really trusted someone the way she trusted Stan a sign of that trust was getting their thick cock buried in your throat. She’d thought about how she loved it so much she wouldn’t even gag. She’d thought about swallowing.
But then that goofball Stan had pulled out and just…all over her tits. Or all over the ridiculous little half shirt she’d worn with the heart on it that was sort of covering her tits. He’d really been worked up! She giggled.
“Oh, Stannnnn,” she said, kind of wheedling, kind of throaty. “You’ve made such a mess! I’m going to have to go home and change now and we’ll miss our afternoon fuck. And I was really thinking about…um. What we’d talked about.” She meant anal sex and fucking her ass hard until she screamed. They hadn’t tried it yet, but she’d been thinking about it. She had a butt plug in now. Training. She jacked his cock slightly to see if she could get it interested again. It twitched a little.
“Gnh,” he said. “Do you really have to go? Couldn’t you just…I don’t know,” he gestured vaguely. “Water?”
She shook her head and giggled again as she got up off her knees and smoooothed her hands down her flirty pleated barely there bottom. “Oh, Stan, you goofball. It’s, like, really obvious you came all over me. All over your bestest friend! I’m already in soooo much trouble for, like, silly dress code violations. If Mr. Stockgood saw me like this, he’d fire me for sure. And then who’d suck you off. Or…” she grinned and twirled and flipped her skirt up so he could see the butt plug. She tapped it. Which felt…she gave it a little twist and push and…
“Hey,” he said, “I thought we were…um…thinking about not masturbating. So you’re ready for…”
She pouted, but took her hand off the toy. “Oh, you’re no fun.” She thought about being ready for. “Maybe I could go home and change and come back,” she said. “Just for, you know.”
“Do you think Stockgood would really fire you?” Stan said. “I’m; I don’t really have access to his computer system so I don’t think I can convince him…”
She rolled her eyes. Only a nerd like Stan would think that you convinced people by having access to their computer system!
“Yes, Stan, he’d really fire me for walking around the office with your cum all over my breas…my perky hot tits,” she said. She’d been thinking about always referring to them as perky hot tits. It was hot. She pinched a nipple absently. Did not masturbating mean she couldn’t play with her perky hot tits? She thought about that. Mm.
Stan seemed to think the tit play was okay; his cock was manfully trying to show his approval, though it was still obviously fucked out. He cleared his throat. And gave her that shy smile. Which wasn’t maybe shy? She’d mentioned it once to him that his smile creeped her out and now she was thinking about not thinking about it.
Anyway. He smiled. “Maybe…um…. Maybe Stockgood doesn’t need me to persuade him. Maybe you could persuade him. You could maybe persuade everyone. That it’s, um, okay if you dress like a whore and, you know, are covered with cum.”
She blinked. She trusted Stan. She trusted him. But also she sometimes, in the midst of all the things she had to think about like her butt plug and wanting to finger fuck herself and not finger fuck herself and finding hot outfits and telling Stan all her wet hot fantasies—sometimes in the midst of all that she worried about what he would think about next.
“Persuade them?” she said, cautiously.
“Yes,” he said. His cock was in fact rising now. “Persuade them. With your, um, hot little cunt. Just, uh.” He stroked himself. “You’re the office tart. So let everyone know they can, um, have you. Oh,” she’d cupped his balls. “You won’t get in trouble if you just fuck everyone. Fuck Stockgood. Whore for your job. Your job can just be whoring…oh!” She swirled her tongue over his head, squeezing just where she knew he liked it. “Yes! Suck them off like that, and they’ll…uh…never…oh god!” He banged his fist on the desk. “Think about it!”
She did swallow this time.
And of course she thought about it. She didn’t want to be the office whore. Fucking Stan was one thing; he was her best friend! And she trusted him. Getting her ass ready for his hard cock was just like having a good conversation about your personal hot anal sex fantasies and getting pounded hard in public and watching a lot of blow job tutorials so you could suck off your best friend the way he deserved.
She sat in the car in the parking lot breathing hard. She was going to go home and not think about the good hard anal fuck Stan was going to give her tomorrow. And not about being a flirty little tart for Stockgood until he got all hot and hard and just had to cum on her and spank her and give her a nice raise.
She wasn’t thinking about that. She was a professional. She was good at her job. She was good at managing Stan by draining his hot cock. She wanted to go to college and fuck lots of hot guys until she screamed, not go back to the office and fuck everyone who reprimanded her or who could help her career which was of course whoring herself out for her career.
She needed to distract herself. She couldn’t masturbate. She ended up shopping. A lot. The woman behind the counter was tall and blonde and Carla could tell somewhat amused at the purchases. The woman tried not to smile as she rung up a ridiculous halter neck form fitting rubber slick fuck dress that was obviously made for fucking.
Carla could not in any way afford the dress. She wasn’t even sure she could afford the interest on her purchases any more. College was…it seemed a long way away. Len seemed a long way away.
She tried not to think about paying for the dresses by getting her tongue up in the saleswoman’s cunt.
But she was thinking about it.
She wore the dress right into Stockgood’s office. Her perky hot tits bulged out of the criss-cross straps. Stockgood’s eyes bulged. And that wasn’t the only thing that bulged.
His protests were perfunctory, but still cute. He didn’t have a lot of stamina. But he did have a surprising enthusiasm for cunnilingus. Since she hadn’t been (allowed to masturbate) masturbating she had been more revved up than she knew. She bucked and screamed shamelessly. She was sure everyone had heard her. They all knew what a slut she was.
That was humiliating. But it also made it easier because it turned her on and because they all knew what to expect. She spent the day leisurely working her way (as it were) around upper management. She fit Stan in for the anal sex too. As it were.
By the end of the day her new dress was—well. So was her hair. But she was morally certain her job was secure. Though the exact details of the job description had maybe undergone a little… adjustment.
She’d been thinking about other adjustments too. It was something Stan had mentioned. About discrimination. It was important not to discriminate. Of course, as the office (whore) assistant she had to help everybody to be their best selves and (cum hard in her mouth.) How could she do that if she discriminated?
She thought about that a lot. She was thinking about it when Jordana finally approached her in the bathroom.
Carla was freshening up after another round with Marty—Mr. Stockgood. He really did have a talented tongue. She was flushed and still a little weak-kneed. Her white dress with the ladder cut outs were showing…well, a lot of boob. Hot, hard tits. Where was she? Oh right. It was hot. She was hot. And not stained. Because she’d taken it off for Marty to really get at her. She shivered.
Then Jordana came out of the stalls and stopped dead.
Carla looked her up and down. Yes, she was short and squat. But she had really heavy tits under that sweater, she was pretty sure. And good cheekbones under those glasses. And besides, Carla liked her. Jordana was nice. Stan was her best friend, sure, but he wasn’t really nice, was he? What he said when he was balls deep in her ass wasn’t exactly nice.
“Carla,” Jordana said. “Are you…I mean, you’ve been behaving… Look, I don’t want to be a…but that outfit isn’t…what are you…?”
Carla had just been walking towards her, letting her hips flow lusciously, as they did in those heels.
She stopped. Jordana stopped. The lights hummed in the silence.
“I’m just being friendly,” Carla said. “It’s my job. Being friendly.” She cupped Jordana’s breast through her shapeless shirt. “Oh,” she said. “You really do have nice tits.”
Jordana made a noise. Carla had expected the kiss to be gentle and tentative, but it was savage. Jordana’s hands were everywhere, on her tits, under her skirt, ramming into her. Jordana forced her up against the wall, and when she’d had her, she forced her down, lowered her cunt onto Carla’s mouth, and took her own pleasure.
The dress was trashed.
Carla thought about how wrong she’d been. Jordana wasn’t nice at all. Which wasn’t a bad thing. Not when you were a whore who wanted to be used. Which she thought she was. And Jordana certainly used her. She shivered whenever she thought about it. Which was often.
Jordana was really controlling, though. And inventive. Most of the other guys, even Stan, pretty much just wanted to fuck her at work. A lot. In all her holes. And have her dress-up like a sex tart for their pleasure before they fucked her.
Jordana though. Jordana wanted more. She liked parading her around like arm candy, even outside of work. She’d talked to her about whoring not just in the office, but in the street. (Carla was thinking about it.)
And she’d told her to break up with Len. At first, Carla hadn’t wanted to. She loved Len.
But then Jordana had explained to her how hot it would be to dump him while being fucked hard. How she’d really feel like a whore with no morals, then. How she’d know her cunt was more important than her head or her heart. How she’d cum like she’d never cum before when she told him she had to leave him in order to fuck and fuck and wrap her cunny lips around whatever cock would have her.
Even Stan had been taken aback. “Christ, Jordana,” he said, as he watched Carla eating her out. He liked to do that. “That’s kind of evil. Are you sure…”
“Oh,” Jordana said. “You’re getting so good at that, dear. Wait till we get you your tongue piercing.” She shivered. Then her tone got businesslike. “Don’t be an ass, Stan. Of course I’m sure. Look how fucking hard you are just talking about it. We want her to dump him in a way that he won’t ask any questions.” She lifted herself off of Carla’s face a bit. Carla made a little noise of protest. “Besides, she really loves being humiliated. Don’t you dear?”
Carla licked her lips. She wanted to lick Jordana till the other woman came. She wanted to get on Stan’s cock. She wanted to call Len and tell him everything and beg him to rescue her.
“I don’t,” she said. “I don’t want to break up with Len while you fuck me so hard from behind that I come my slut brains out. Oh god.”
Jordana giggled. “You’re so mind-fucked you don’t know what you want, do you?” she said. She lowered her own slick folds back onto Carla’s mouth. “Finish up, now,” she said. “And think about it.”
Carla trailed her tongue up Jordana’s slit. She loved the way Jordana shivered when she did that.
She thought about that. She thought about nothing. She thought about lots of things.