I immediately locked the doors to the van, climbing into the back and lying across my bed, unbuttoning my miniskirt and sliding it down, tossing my shoes and socks after it. Then I reached down, whimpering slightly as I unbuttoned my bodysuit, tugging the sleek Lycra fabric down with the other hand, exposing my breasts and pussy at the same time.
Tentatively, I slid a finger down my thigh, pausing at the edge of my lower lips. This was going to be a new experience for me. Sure, I'd seen the occasional porn video, but masturbation in a female body? Could I do this? I pictured Gwendolyn, standing in front of me naked, calling me a good girl, and YEP I CAN DO THIS. My index finger plunged in and a moan ripped from my throat, loud in the confined space of the van. I pulled it back out, tasting it like Gwendolyn had me do, because I thought that's what she'd be asking of me right about now.
I tasted delicious. I probably biased, but who cares? I grabbed a handful of tit with my left hand while my right went back down, index finger slowly inserting, then beginning to pump in and out. I didn't exactly know what I was doing here, but it felt really fucking good, and the moans kept getting louder. I slipped a second finger in as the "shlick shlick" of my fingers got louder and my vision turned blurry as I felt myself racing toward the edge of something.
A car door slammed nearby and shook me out of my self-exploration briefly. I was not going to stop this, but maybe I should avoid letting the whole parking lot know I was fucking myself into oblivion here. I needed to stay quiet. What's a good way to stay quiet when you can't control yourself? A gag, my brain supplied helpfully. And where might I find one? Oh! I know!
I reached back, loosening the thong that Gwendolyn had tied into my hair as a scrunchie earlier and stuffed the panties in my mouth. This was absolutely a great idea, I thought to myself, tasting her musk on the lace fabric. But I needed something more. The fingers were good, but not enough. Grasping around, I found the hair brush I'd picked up yesterday and pulled it over, the round handle seeming like a good fit.
One finger found my clit and OH MY GOD IS THAT WHAT IT FEELS LIKE? I almost choked on spit behind the panties-as-a-gag, that's how hard I tried to scream. Okay, that's the plan. Keep doing that. The other hand began to insert the handle of the hair brush, thrusting it back and forth inside of my pussy, the tight friction of the virgin hole making it hard to keep a rhythm going. I kept fingering my clit, treating it like the little nub on an old laptop, stroking it back and forth before rubbing like I was trying to clean something.
I got a little too enthusiastic with the hairbrush and felt something a little sharp and painful, but that's a later problem. The pain went away shortly and my fingers started moving faster, the brush driving further, and the pleasure was just SOOO good, I was almost there, and then BAM. With one last stroke of the brush, it was like fireworks went off behind my eyes, my entire body shook as I screamed into the panties, my pussy clamping down so hard I thought I was going to crack the plastic brush handle, and then I collapsed, soaked in sweat and chest heaving, onto the bed. My thighs were fucking soaked and I'd squirted over about half the mattress.
The hairbrush was still inserted in me, my arms hung limp, and I could feel a trickle of liquid running down the inside of my thigh and onto the bedsheets. I was like a limp dishrag, and couldn't muster the energy to move. I lay there for long minutes, my heart slowing, breath calming, until I felt some measure of strength returning to me. Shifting slightly, I grabbed my phone and raised it over my head, covering my breasts with one hand while I took a selfie.
As I clicked the button to send it to Gwendolyn, I realized I still had her panties in my mouth and she'd be able to see that in the photo. Oops. Well, what did she expect? She told me to go masturbate. Ruefully, I pulled the now-drenched panties out of my mouth and laid them on my pillow. Maybe they'd dry off enough for me to use them as a scrunchie again? For some reason, I was really sad about not being able to use them as a hair tie anymore. I did actually own real hair ties, you know. I just didn't want to use them.
I staggered to my feet, tugging the bodysuit off, and leaving it on the floor with yesterday's miniskirt. That outfit was a keeper, for sure. I clambered into the van's small shower, cranking the heat up on the dial and washing the sweat and other bodily fluids off myself from the previous day. Toweling myself dry, I grinned at Gwendolyn's antics from earlier, asking me to towel her. That was such a cheesy line, and yet it had worked perfectly on me. I was powerless to resist the redhead's charms, but was honestly quite okay with that. There was a small trace of blood on the handle of the hairbrush and on my sheets, and I realized with a start that I probably just broke my hymen, masturbating. I guess I'm not a virgin anymore? Grumbling, I changed the sheets, putting the dirty ones to one side for when I found my way to a laundromat.
Digging through the dresser, I tossed on a pair of thong panties and skinny jeans, slipping a pale blue tank-top over my head and foregoing the bra for now. I sat down at my desk chair, spinning and powering up the computer, grimacing as a cascade of notifications appeared, almost a dozen emails from Frank asking about the status of the project. Fucking Mondays, I grumbled.
This was going to be a problem. I really needed to get a lot of work done for him, but that was the last thing I wanted to do right now. I'm sure it was that "new relationship energy" that I read about but never understood online, but all I wanted to do was go spend time with Gwendolyn. Work was the last thing on my mind. I took a deep breath, blowing it out as my face contorted into a grimace.
Focus, Tim. You've got to do this for the job. You can play dress-up with Gwendolyn later. Even as I thought that, something rang hollow in the words. I couldn't quite figure out what about it felt wrong, but that could be a later problem. I sent a quick text to Gwendolyn, who hadn't replied yet, "Going dark to focus on work. Have a great day!" With that, I set the phone on silent and tossed it onto my bed, putting on my headphones and starting coding.
The hours ground by, painfully slow. The normal coding flow that was so natural to me never arrived. Instead, I found myself having to double-check basic assembly instructions like I'd never learned the language. Checking the performance of algorithms took me at least three times as long to do the mental calculations as normal. I was deeply dissatisfied with the code I was producing, knowing that it wasn't going to be able to close the gap and fix Frank's performance issues.
I sighed, pausing as I glanced up to see that it was lunchtime and I should probably eat something. I really didn't feel like another Mountain House, and luckily there was no shortage of restaurants nearby that I could order something to go. Or maybe I could just sit and eat there? It looks like a nice enough day. That would be a lovely change of pace after spending the morning in the van, a little sunlight, fresh air, and people was just what I needed.
Resolved on a course of action, I grabbed my wallet and climbed out of the van, locking it as I started walking across the parking lot. There was a cute little bistro with a lot of outdoor seating that I figured I could get something to eat at, before I had to go back into my dungeon for the rest of the afternoon. Halfway across the parking lot, I came to two realizations.
First, I'd forgotten my cell phone in the van. Not the end of the world, but it would have been nice to have with me. Second, I forgot to wear a bra. Again. And my tits weren't being subtle about it, either. It's fine, maybe nobody will notice, I tried to tell myself as a pack of teenage boys stopped and stared, mouths hanging open, drool dripping down their chin.
I felt a thrill, almost like when Gwendolyn was staring at me, as they shamelessly ogled me and I felt my nipples get hard and the heat building in my panties again. Fuck, I whimpered in my head. I just masturbated and now I'm horny again because those guys are imagining what I look like naked? Are they hard right now? Oh shit, they are. I wonder if they're going to jerk off later thinking of me? That's so hot. Wait, don't be gay, Tim.
My traitorous body decided to throw a little extra hip sway in as I walked past them, my chest bouncing as I smiled at them sweetly, before entering the bistro. What was THAT all about?, I yelled at myself. Ordering a club sandwich and a diet Coke, I took a seat out on the patio in the sunlight, watching as shoppers strolled by. More than one guy, and a few women, blatantly checked me out while I ate my lunch, and I could feel myself getting wetter with each stare. What am I turning into?
By the time my lunch was done, my nipples were at full attention, the tank top tight across my chest, and I was grinding my legs together like I was trying to crush a walnut. I threw my trash away, standing and striding back quickly across the parking lot, trying to get to the van as quickly as I could. I had a lot of coding to finish today. Yeah, that's why I was hurrying back. I promise. Not to go masturbate again, thinking about all of the people staring at me. You believe me, right?