I rush home from work, my bladder throbbing so hard it feels like it’s going to split open. I’m still in my office outfit: crisp black top, tiny black pencil skirt around my hips and, of course, no panties underneath. I never wear them when I know I’m going to be desperate later… and today I pushed it way too far. 😩
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I fumble for my keys at the door, fuck, they’re not with me. I must have left them on my desk. The lock won’t budge. Panic hits. My thighs clamp together instantly, knees knocking, little whimpers escaping my lips as I bounce on my heels. “No, no, no… not here, not now…” I’m dancing desperately, one hand jammed between my legs, pressing hard against my bare pussy through the skirt. Every tiny movement sends sharp stabs through my lower belly. The pressure is unbearable and it’s making me wet in a completely different way. My clit is swollen, pulsing, betraying me. 🥵
I can’t think straight. I slide my hand under my skirt, fingers finding my wet pussy. I rub fast little circles over my clit, trying to distract the urge, trying to clamp everything shut with pleasure instead of pain. It almost works… for a few seconds. My breathing turns ragged, moans slipping out as I grind against my own palm… But then it happens. 💦
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