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**Roxy Cotton** · (07-31-2016)

It’s been a long night, helping Vinnie and Shane

haul all of John Madison’s things out of his basement office in XWF Headquarters. How could one man have so many used condoms in his desk? And why did they all smell like gasoline?

Vinnie decided to take some Somas for his neck, and he was out like a light in the passenger seat of the ‘Stang before I knew it. It’s a bit of a drive and we’re probably heading to Vegas as well, to get some of things he left there. I don’t know why we don’t fly more. Vin says we might buy our own plane, but we’ll see.

I remembered I left my clutch inside while I touched up my eye shadow, so I run back in. It’s kind of surreal having a key to the building after all this time as just another employee… now I’m the executive administrative assistant to Vinnie. Basically his secretary, but with the added bonus of loving it when my boss sexually harasses me.

I get to the office and scoop up my things, having a little giggle at the finger-sized vibe I have in the clutch next to all my makeup. Then, I realize this is going to be my last chance to tinkle before hitting the highway, and I head to the little girls’ room.

The ladies’ rooms are pretty immaculate here at the XWF HQ. There aren’t many of us girls, other than the wrestlers, and they use their own locker rooms more than anything else. As long as you don’t go in after Miranda Tigris stayed up all night getting drunk, it doesn’t even smell bad.

I go into the stall and I sit down, pulling my lacey panties down to my ankles and hiking my mini up around my hips. It’s only then, right before I let loose, that I notice my cell blinking from inside my purse. I grab it and blow a stray lock of blonde out of my face while I swipe in my code… and see a new text. From Ginger.

It’s not the message that gets me holding my breath and forgetting I ever had to pee. She just asked me to watch her new upload on the XWF site and threw in a winking smiley, which is adorable coming from someone as cute as she. No, it’s the picture she attached. A shower somewhere, maybe her home? Just the tiniest towel covering her. Her skin, red and flushed. Freshly fucked hair. The dirtiest smile that’s ever been across her face.

“Oh wow, Ginger… nightly little thing…”

Something in the way her eyes look right at me from the screen of my cell gets me tingling. The pressure from my bladder is gone, replaced by a whole different kind of pressure from inside. I lean forward enough that my hair almost sweeps the tile floor – luckily it doesn’t – and I peek out under the stall to see if anyone’s come in after me. This late I don’t expect it, but you never know. This company isn’t actually populated with normal, well-adjusted people.

The coast is clear, so I hold the phone up to where it seems like Ginger’s and mine are on the same level. Looking right at each other. I scoot myself forward on the seat and lift one of my Louboutins out from the lace of my panties, leaning it against the wall of the stall instead, and then a slide one of my fingers down my thigh slowly and gently, raising goose bumps up and down my skin.

“Ah…”

Inadvertent. I need to keep it down. Even if the bathroom is empty, voices carry. My fingernail traces agonizing, teasing lines down the inside of my thigh, heading towards warmth. There’s wetness already, moistening the flesh between my leg and my body. The tiniest bit of stubble greets my fingertip and then I feel the velvet petals open up and hungrily accept my finger. I bite my lip when I feel the shockwave of pleasure but it’s overpowering.

“Uhh… fuck…”

And then it occurs to me. I didn’t click the link yet. There could be more like this. I breathe one or two deep breaths and then I follow the little blue URL Ginger sent me, and I see her beautiful face smiling over a silly unicorn shirt. So cute. I watch her move, the volume down to nearly mute so I can only barely make out what she’s saying. I watch her hair bounce around her face, and my finger moves in further. I see her smile, and I move it around in little circles.

Then I see Girard, and I slip right out of myself.

“What the fuck, Ginger?”

But I watch, and she isn’t being sweet and sexy to him. She’s angry and distrustful. I see her look right into the camera when she’s telling him off, and I know that she meant for me to see, to let me know she’s on my side.

When she walks into Tim Davis’ office, she gives another side-eye that tells me something, but I’m not sure what. Not until her shirt comes off. Her bare chest gleaming at me from my phone. Her little red nipples standing up at attention from the cold, or maybe something more.

She looks into the camera again when he gropes her, and again when he pulls his sizable cock out of his pants. When she bends over the desk, she’s looking right into it.

She’s looking right at me.

Without wasting any more time, I slide my hand into my clutch and find the mini vibrator, fitting it onto my index finger and clicking it to turn the buzzing on. When Tim moves into Ginger my hand moves between my legs and we both moan.

“Ohhhh!”

And I watch her. I match the rhythm of her body being knocked forward and pulled back by the hands digging into her hips. She never looks away, not even as the gleaming wetness of her sex shines in streaks down her inner thighs. I move with her, and I push the vibe into me when I see the red creeping up the skin of her chest and throat. I know she’s close, and that I’m right there.

With her.

“Fuck… oh fuck… oh fuck, Ginger, baby… ffffuckkkk… ahhhhhhh…”

We moan together. Cum together. Her eyes squeeze close while her mouth drops open, and I can see her tightening in pulses around Tim, who’s frozen in place while he empties into her. My sweet little redheaded creampie, filled to overflowing and cumming all over the rod inside of her beautiful, swollen kitten. And then she’s looking at me again, catching her breath. Smiling. Smiling because she knows the man inside of her isn’t the one she was fucking in her mind.

Ginger did this for me.

And I smile right back at her while my shaking hand finds some tissue to clean the sopping wetness of my orgasm off of my legs.

“Oh my… what a promo.”

I’m nearly calmed enough to try and stand on my tingling legs, and then I hear it. It freezes me in place, panties halfway up, just below my knees.

Someone clapping.

Someone in the bathroom.

I didn’t hear anyone come in because I was so caught up in the moment, but I can clearly see the set of leather shoes beneath suit pant cuffs walking slowly towards the front of my stall. A man. And with my luck, it will certainly be…

“Bon temps, ma petite amie, bon temps.”

… Girard.

I hold my breath and try to ignore the heartbeat slamming against my chest. I should be fine. I’ll be fine. But then I see that I never locked the stall, and I try to to leap up in time, but he’s there, swinging the door inward.

“You sounded like you were having a good time in here, non?”

I just shake my head slowly, trying to find the words. Something tough, something mean, but his face just keeps taking me back to that helpless moment in the showers, when I felt him pressing against me, so close to going in… I’m stunned silent, and my panties are still around my knees. I feel him staring at me, even though I’ve squeezed my legs together. I know he can see. And he can see my cum glinting off my skin, as well.

“Why not have a little more fun, then? Since you like to play games with people and mess with their relationships so much… I think you owe me a little something in return, don’t you? Since Ginger and you have gotten so… close… because of me…”

Oh my god, he’s rubbing the front of his pants. And he’s unbuckling his belt. He steps into the stall and stands right between my feet, spread apart and angled awkwardly, trying to keep my thighs closed and restrained by the lace of my panties.

His zipper moves down and he starts to fish himself out through the crease in his boxer shorts, and I move. I shoot my hand down towards my purse, knowing my pepper spray is in there. My fingernails graze the clutch, but then with a snap of his leg he kicks the clutch away, out under the stall partition, too far to reach.

My hand flies to my mouth, my fingernail broken off to the quick from the sudden kick. My finger goes into my mouth and I taste the tiniest hint of blood. I wince from the sting, and then I see Girard has his fully engorged member just a few inches from my face.

“Watch… watch me, you little slut… watch me…”

The tears start to flow and I turn my head away, but then a hand is in my hair, twisting. He forces me to keep my face pointed right at him while he furiously jerks his cock in front of my eyes.

“That’s it… that’s it… you like to see a dick in your face don’t you, you fucking whore?”

“Please… please Thomas… please stop…”

“You want me, don’t you, slut? You want this all over your face… ah… ah…”

I’m sobbing now, unable to speak a word. Girard is slamming his fist up and down his shaft, angling his hips forward with every thrust. I can feel the warmth of him, the head of his penis brushing my cheek every so often. The tears are running down my face in rivers now, I can taste their salty flavor on my lips, while they quiver. I try to look up at Girard and let him see how upset he’s making me, but it seems to only push him over the edge.

“Yes! FFFfuuuuuckkkk, yes… you like this fucking cum don’t you, you fucking tramp?”

And he seizes. His hand strangles his cock as arcs of pearl cum shoot out at me. He pulls my face closer, using the fist of hair on my head, and he turns me back and forth, making sure to get his yield on both sides of my face. In my hair. Down on my tits.

He lets go of my hair and steps back, breathing heavy. I feel his cum running down my face and my chest, and I bury my head in my hands and just sob. Loud, painful, retching sobs, while he merely puts himself away and straightens his clothes up.

“This is what you deserve for ruining peoples’ lives, you fucking cunt. Now clean yourself up and get out of here. Pathetic whore.”

I hear him leave. His footfalls on the tile get further away and then I hear the door open and shut. I’m alone again.

More alone than ever.

Threaded Mode \| Linear Mode Roxy Cotton ~ Summertime Sadness
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