Jasmine was sitting in her Singapore office, and had felt ridiculously horny since morning, despite the distraction of back-to-back client calls. Her imagination was a wicked distraction from the mundane, thinking about what that Scottish woman had said to her. What she’d threatened to – no, promised to do to Jasmine. She could feel her moist heat overflowing, her sex so wet now that she knew she was leaking.
“I would love to feel how wet you are, to taste how wet you are… perhaps I can sneak under your desk. You wouldn’t object to my hands on your thighs as you took the next call? Feeling my lips on your inner thighs?”
Jasmine’s mind wandered back to those lovely videos of other women being licked under their desks. Her fantasy. God, she was soaking wet. Thankful she was wearing black pants, so it probably wasn’t obvious, but she could definitely smell the heady perfume of her own arousal and wondered how many people in her work area could too. What would they think? Would it arouse them? Might one of them want to join her?
Jasmine imagined Agatha’s hands on her inner thighs, climbing slowly upwards, feeling her soaked panties. Then moving them aside…
Whilst not daring to look down, Jasmine imagined Agatha kneeling there with a lewdly painted smile, and she could feel the woman’s breath on her sex. She felt exposed, vulnerable. The thought of sex in a public place.
Jasmine heard a whispered ‘beautiful’ and closed her eyes.
Feeling Agatha slide a finger easily inside of her, feeling her wetness, taking the finger out, tasting it. Jasmine indulging in one of her favourite fantasies of being licked under her desk with unaware colleagues just outside her cabin. Distracting kisses on her thighs as she tries to speak on the phone. Warm lips moving closer to her heat, eager for their touch on her aching pussy.
Then a delicious flourish of pleasure as Agatha’s tongue swirled across her pussy. Those delicate petals sucked on and pulled, only for a tongue to flow once again up between her lips. Teasing their way to the swollen nub of their sensual apex. Slow flicks of a tongue there, the intensity building, fingers still inside her.
Jasmine is barely able to contain her moans and groans of elicit pleasure. Her joy rising within her like a warm geyser, so close. How could she stop it… did she want to? Had she closed the door to her cabin? Would she be able to contain her exclamation when she climaxed?
Agatha now sitting next to her now discreetly wiping her face whilst praising her surprisingly subtle reaction to an experienced woman’s ministrations. Jasmine’s face is still contorted with her pleasure, desperate for the woman’s touch again. Agatha smiles lewdly, and rises from her seat with a “well done Jasmine,” and then adds more quietly “sorry, I got so turned on down there – I had to have a little play as well…” With a knowing wink, Agatha walks towards the cabin door. Momentarily Jasmine imagines Agatha reaching over her shoulders and, in front of everyone, reaching down the front of Jasmine’s top and caressing her breasts… That, and imagining that woman playing with herself under her desk sparks another heat within Jasmine. She wonders if Agatha made herself cum. Did that woman finger herself to climax as she was licking my pussy?! But when Jasmine looks up Agatha is gone.
Finding it difficult to focus on delivering her normally exemplary service to clients on the phone, Jasmine is relieved when its time to leave the office for home.
A quick stop in the ladies and a brisk walk through the humid evening heat, thankful to have dodged today’s forecast showers, takes Jasmine to the MRT subway. As she descends the escalator Jasmine enjoys the movement of evening air through the fabric of her light top. Grateful for having removed her bra before she left the office, a gesture to her body that the workday was over. Though, she admitted to herself that it was more than that. She relished the thought of a fellow traveller admiring her firm natural breasts, and just perhaps becoming aware of her pertly aroused buds. Or was it just the cold air on her hidden nipples? As if in response the breeze plays on her stiff teats, reminding her as if she really needed to be, of her unsatisfied arousal.
Removing her bra wasn’t the only reason for Jasmine’s quick stop in the ladies. Once she had her bra off in the privacy of the cubicle, she’d briefly revisited the sensual fantasy of earlier. Feeling her own hands run across her body, imagining they were Agatha’s. Cupping her breasts, imagining Agatha’s firm fingers. Dipping her fingers into her own heat, Jasmine had been excited by how wet she still was, how her fingers glistened with her juices. How sweet she tasted. Drawing her slippery fingers over her exposed upper body and neck, particularly enjoying the sensual pleasure of them sliding across her breasts. Feeling the breeze of the approaching SMRT train caress her still damp breasts and smirking inwards as she thought to herself “I’m reeking of my pussy juices and I’m about to go into the subway!”
The hum of the train came to a halt and passengers disembark around her. Squeezing in, Jasmine forces herself through a press of male and female bodies to reach the gap and handhold she’d spotted, only to find herself sharing the space with a slightly older but familiar looking businesswoman. She nods, acknowledging Jasmine before lowering her eyes.
Before long the rhythm of the train has triggered Jasmine’s erotic daydreams again. Imagining kisses on my inner thighs, making her weak in real life, especially as they begin to slowly move up towards her pussy. Thinking to herself that its such a delightfully naughty thought to be having in public, on the subway.
Thankful she has her bag with her to hide behind, Jasmine finds herself reliving her personal fantasy, her fingers delivering just a gentle pulse against the heat between her thighs. Mmmm edging a bit more on the subway – how naughty! How she needs to cum tonight when she reaches home. She’s felt as horny as hell today…
Suddenly realising that the movement of the train has pressed her against the businesswoman – fuck it’s Agatha, how did she not recognise her – who is now looking down at her with a wickedly knowing smile. Jasmine realises she’s been pressed against Agatha whilst she’s been… Oh Fuck! No matter how subtle she’d been Jasmine realises Agatha must have felt the movement of her arm, realised that her hand was down between her thighs… that Jasmine had been masturbating whilst pressed against her.
Jasmine didn’t know what to say, but Agatha beat her to it in a low voice only she could hear, “that is so incredibly erotic…” She felt Agatha’s hand on her hip, “…I could help? If you want me to?”
Jasmine realises how rapidly she is breathing, but her expression must have told Agatha that’s what she wanted.
Withdrawing her own hand, Jasmine feels the woman’s hand slide across the front of her pants behind her bag. Agatha’s wicked smile as she realises that the front of Jasmine’s pants are open, before tracing her finger lower. Caressing her through her delicate panties. Rubbing and teasing Jasmine with subtle movements, at no time breaking eye contact. Jasmine feels her nipples stiffen. Those fingers withdrawing, and then sliding down inside her panties, Agatha’s movements persistent and no longer subtle. The delightfully naughty pleasure she elicits causing Jasmine to bite her lip to stifle something louder.
The carnal joy rising within Jasmine, her breathing sharper again. Those fingers flicking up and down within her heat. Realising that she is so sopping that their movements are almost audible, a rhythmic wet sound she finds powerfully erotic.
Agatha takes Jasmine’s right hand and slowly runs her tongue along her fingers, licking Jasmine’s juices and smirking impishly. All the while finger-fucking her as subtly as she’s able in the crowded compartment. Surely someone has noticed? Are they watching, or just enjoying the rhythmic moments and Jasmine’s heavy breathing? Perhaps the movement of the train are masking her movements?
Jasmine doesn’t care anymore. The pleasure is filling her. The carriage doesn’t exist anymore, just those powerful fingers. Just the bliss they are giving her. Jasmine’s world is her pussy and the skilful fingers fucking her; Agatha’s encouraging gaze. Nothing else.
Then it fills her. Little trembling waves of pleasure that make her legs weak to the point they shudder. Grateful of the rubber loop secured around her left wrist. The feeling of being suspended, of being held. Grateful for the other woman’s body pressed against her. Her fingers that she grips tightly in pulses in response to the pleasure received.
Her surroundings coming back to her. The warmth of the other woman’s body against her and that knowing smile.
“I think I need to take you to bed Jasmine. There’s a lot I want to show you.”