The report

She was at her desk in the open office at the newspaper. She was surrounded by people about her; working at desks near by, and walking past her desk. Her phone rang.

"Lucille, listen carefully."

She immediately sat up straight, as if he could see her, although, of course, he could not. Her attention was immediately focused on the voice at the other end of the telephone. No other person or event in that big room was of the least concern to her any longer.

"Yes Sir. I am listening."

"As soon as I have finished talking to you and you have put down the telephone, I want you to go to the bathroom. I want you to feel yourself and I want a full report of the status of your cunt. Email the report to me at the earliest opportunity. Understand?"

"Yes Sir."

"Good girl. Off you go."

"Yes Sir."

Lucille put down the receiver. With a quick glance left and right, to assure herself that no one could possibly guess the content of the telephone call, or what she was about to do, Lucille walked to the bathroom. She could not resist smiling and she put her head down, for she feared that if she kept her head up people might suspect that her smile was one of a slutty sort of girl. Demurely dressed as she was, sweet natured and softly spoken, people in the office would consider her the most unlikely of sluts. She wanted to keep it that way.

She opened a bathroom door and closed it again. In the privacy of that little space, she pulled down her panties. It was summer and she was not wearing any stockings. She put her fingers down to her cunt, opening her legs a little to feel all round; every side.

Down there, she discovered a pool of juices. Every part of her cunt was wet and she was open; quite available for immediate taking. If she had not been before her call, she certainly was wet now. She allowed her fingers to travel up a little further and she enjoyed the fact that she had opened, much like the petals of a flower. She allowed herself a moment or two to imagine that it was his fingers penetrating her.

She imagined the look on his face as he brought his fingers to under his nose to enjoy the scent of the nectar. And, she imagined him bringing those fingers to her lips and having her suck the juices. She closed her eyes and lingered for as long as she dared with the thought of what might come next. She imagined him undressing her and positioning her and taking her.

She considered touching her clitoris. Her index finger grazed across it as her other fingers held open her labia. She was sorely tempted to rub herself. She considered it for a moment until she remembered that he would ask so many specific questions. He would, almost assuredly, want to know if she had stimulated herself. It was not worth the risk, being the useless liar that she was, and she let the thought go.

She was brought back to the moment when she heard another toilet flush. She remembered where she was and what she had to do. She pulled her panties back in place and she proceeded back to her desk, not even taking the time to wash her hands. She knew he would be waiting for mail.

She pressed compose and began:

"My dear Sir,

My cunt is very wet and open, and awaits you with much expectation..."