by S. E. Law
“I’m really about to do this,” I mumble to myself. “This is happening, Tammy.”
Taking a final deep breath, I climb onto the table. Deciding I should probably lubricate the glass a little bit, just to make this whole process easier, I spit on the thin opening and spread the lubricant around the rim.
I hang one leg over the side and bend the other one so that the bottom of my foot is planted squarely on the table's surface. Not wanting to waste any more time, I place the top of the vase at my opening and push it inside of me. I grunt a little bit as my walls part. The smooth glass glides against my insides as it goes as deep as possible. My head falls back as my walls clench around the long cylinder.
“Fuck,” I sigh. I continue to move the vase inside my pussy, pushing and pulling it in and out of my body. The arm holding me up feels weak, and I fall back onto the table, keeping my legs open wide. My eyes flutter closed as my entire body ignites with passion. I feel the neck of the vase get slick with my juices, allowing the long cylinder to move within me with more ease.
While fucking myself with the vase, I use my now free hand to play with my clit. I rub little circles over my sensitive bud, sending shots of pleasure up my spine and through my entire body.
The overhead lights are like a warm blanket seeping into my already burning skin. It’s like the warm summer sun on a nearly perfect day. My own moans reach my ears and egg me on even further. I’m here, turning myself on. Everything feels so good, so perfect. My insides twist and turn, and I press harder on my clit as my body climbs closer and closer to release.
“Jesus Christ,” I sigh, along with other expletives that fall from my lips. I’ve touched myself before, but this is more intense. I feel electric. It’s like lightning is rushing through my body. My back arches, my body reaching for the ceiling. Maybe it’s because of the setting or the circumstances. I don’t know, but tonight, something is different.
“Come on, come on,” I breathe. Biting down on my bottom lip, my eyes open. I’m actually performing for the camera because I want to watch the tape later. Everything is going great when there’s a slight scratching sound from the corner. Odd.
Dismissing it as my imagination, I keep going. It’s much too late for anyone else to be here, and I’m so close. I don’t want to lose this momentum, this feeling. My muscles are clamping down. My breathing picks up, and soon, orgasm tears through me. Pleasure ripples throughout my entire being. My fingers grip onto the neck of the vase, needing something, anything, to stabilize myself as I cry out with pleasure.
Suddenly, another noise permeates the fog in my brain, and my eyes instinctively dart in its direction.
“Tammy?”
What? Who said that? This time, I know the sound is definitely not in my head. It’s too clear, and the person is saying my name.
Suddenly, my eyes land on a huge shadow in the corner and my mouth goes dry.
Oh shit! It’s Brick Barrister, my dad’s boss! What the hell is he doing here?
My mouth is already wide open in mid-orgasmic bliss, and his gorgeous face sends another wave of sparks to my pussy. To my absolute horror, my body keeps coming. I’ve let go of the glass by this time, and I hear it hit the ground. Taking my hands from my clit, I hold on to the table, gripping the sides. My shoulders scrunch up as I try to ride out this wave as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, moans of ecstasy rise out from my throat before I’m able to stifle them.
One small silver lining: it doesn’t take me too long to finish coming and once I’m done, I shoot up from the table, back straight and eyes wide.
“Brick,” I breathe. He really is such a beautiful man, and in any other circumstance, I would welcome such a nice view to brighten up my day. But when I’m naked, fucking myself with a vase after breaking into his company? I’m not sure this situation could be any worse.
“Tammy,” he says again. I can’t tell what he’s feeling. Probably anger. I mean, he’s just found me in a compromising position in his studio. Oh God, my dad is going to get fired! We’re going to be penniless! Not only that, but Brick is going to tell everyone what happened. Why wouldn’t he? What I’ve done is absolutely crazy.
Oh my God! I’m going to jail! I’m in so much fucking trouble. I had two jobs tonight: film my audition and don’t get caught breaking and entering. I didn’t accomplish either of those.
I’m so fucking screwed!
What in the hell is he doing here anyway? It’s the middle of the night, so no one’s supposed to be here. I’d scoped out the place for a few days, and everyone was always gone well before now. Who comes to work this late? Oh, dear God, what have I done?
2
Brick
I can be such an idiot sometimes. Robert reminded me to double-check that I had all of the files I needed for our big meeting tomorrow. And he said it more than once, the bastard. I brushed him off because so many of our files are digital now. We made the push a few years ago; it was just the business-savvy thing to do. That way, I can access our files anywhere, as long as I have internet.
I mean, we’re almost a fully digital company. There are still a few files offline, which is probably what Robert was alluding to. But he wasn’t straightforward about what files he meant. I should have known something was up at that point – he likes to be vague if he knows it’ll get under my skin.
I’ve gotten so used to it, I thought he was just being his usual annoying self. His weirdness often goes over my head anyway. We’ve known one another for so long that sometimes it’s easier to just let it go in one ear and out the other.
It may sound stupid that I ignore my friend because he’s weird, but simply calling Robert weird doesn’t fully encapsulate his personality. He’s the type of guy who will hire a clown for a Friday meeting.
Yes, that has happened, and it ended up not being as horrible as it sounds, but that’s Robert. He’ll also say wild statements he calls his little pebbles of wisdom.
But tonight, I arrived home, relaxed, had dinner, and worked out a little – my entire nighttime routine. It’s what I always do before settling in to finish any last-minute work. It was pretty late by the time I realized I’d fucked up.
I’m going through the files, and bam! One of them is missing. A few of our files only exist in hard-copy format to protect against hacking. Yeah, that’s great and all, but now, I’m back at the office, it’s almost midnight, and I’m really fucking annoyed. And the only person I can be annoyed with is myself because this was a totally avoidable problem. All I had to do was double-check my briefcase like Robert recommended. He’s going to have a field day with this tomorrow.
“Goddamn stupid idiot. You should have just listened to Robert. He usually knows what he’s talking about, even if he is a little weird,” I mumble to myself as I get out of my car. I’ve been kicking myself in the butt ever since I realized I forgot the file. It’s definitely a little over the top, all of this self-deprecation, but this is a big waste of my time. And one thing I really hate is wasting time. But kicking myself in the ass won’t solve anything, so I need to calm down.
Thankfully, I don’t live too far away from the office. I should be home no later than 12:30. It’s a quick in and out. Just grab the folder and go back home. If the folder is where I left it, this trip inside shouldn’t take me more than ten minutes, and then I’ll be back at my apartment in another fifteen.
Walking inside, I go straight to my office. The file should be in my desk. I open the drawer and find what I’m looking for easily. It’s sitting right at the front of the files I have in my desk. It would have been so easy to have just grabbed this before I left. It was literally right there.
“You caused me so much grief,” I say to the papers. I sigh and then lock up my desk. I’m sure no one at the company would steal from me, but I like to take extra precautions just in case. Honestly, you never really know what could happen. People are in and out of this building all of the time, and there are so many stories of corporate espionage today, it�
�s enough to give anyone a scare.
I bend over to lock the drawer, causing my phone and my earbuds to fall to the floor. It’s a small inconvenience to pick them up off the floor, but it feels like a large one because I am so tired.
Mentally shoring myself, I pick my phone and earbuds back up. With my earbuds out, though, I hear some weird noises. It sounds as if someone else is in the building, but it’s much too late for the night staff to still be here. By this time, everyone who works for me has gone home.
“Who the fuck could that be?”
Are we getting robbed? We have a really good security system, but it’s not impossible for someone to break in if they really want to.
Shit! This is the worst possible time for a break-in. Everything’s insured, so we wouldn’t lose money, technically. But the whole process of calling the cops and filing a report would take up so much time. And time is money. Plus, with our big meeting tomorrow, I don’t want this mess to get in the way. The fewer distractions I have the better. Having to deal with the police and the insurance company would be too much of a hassle.
Of course, even if we didn’t have a big meeting tomorrow, I wouldn’t want to deal with the police or the insurance company. Every time I have to talk to an agent, it’s like my soul is being sucked from my body. I usually pass that task off to the accounting department and human resources, but a complaint like this would most definitely have to go through me. Especially if I’m the one who witnessed the robbery.
“Maybe I should call the authorities, though.” If I call 9-1-1, they could arrest the thieves. That way, I would not have to interact with the burglars at all. But it would take the cops way too long to get here, and by then, these criminals could have stolen a lot of valuable equipment. It all comes down to a decision between confronting the bigger part of the issue now or later.
No, it’s better if I confront these guys now. Once I have them cornered, I can call the cops. Or maybe, if they haven’t actually stolen anything yet, I can just chase them away and forget about this whole disaster. Whatever happens, I should talk to Robert about updating our alarms and adding extra security.
Leaving the file on my desk, I quietly make my way toward the weird noises. They seem to be coming from one of the sound stages. As I get closer, I marvel at the audacity of these thieves. They have all of the lights on and are being rather loud. They must think no one is here, but that doesn’t explain why they are letting everyone outside know they’re here by illuminating everything and announcing their presence to anyone with a passing ear.
Stealthily, I approach the slightly ajar door. It sounds like one of them is a woman. Interesting. But I don’t really need to know who they are; I just want them gone and away from my stuff.
I’m almost there; my frame is right in front of the door. Now that I’m so close, I can tell that the woman isn’t talking. She’s moaning. What the hell? Who the fuck is in my studio? And what in the world is she doing?
As slowly and quietly as possible, I push open the door and slide into the room. The moans have escalated; it sounds like someone is having sex now. I can’t quite see who it is because there are cameras and other equipment in the way. I circumvent the electronics, making sure to keep myself hidden. Stunned, I stop dead in my tracks when I see what is actually happening.
Holy. Shit.
There’s a girl fucking herself with a vase on my sound stage.
There is literally some woman going to town on her pussy with a glass vase.
I’m speechless. This is one of the craziest scenes I’ve ever walked in on, and I’ve been in the film business for a number of years. Some of the craziest shit happens in this business.
But this lady is giving all of those people a run for their money.
All I can do is look at her. She’s absolutely gorgeous. Her curly brown hair is fanned all around her face, her curves look luscious, and that moaning has got me sporting an almost instant boner.
I turn to the monitor to get a better look at her face. It seems she’s filming herself. Once I look at the screen, my eyes narrow because I recognize her, although I can’t place from where. She looks very familiar but also different. I’m trying to place her face, but it’s taking me a second to rack my brain.
Oh my God! Suddenly, I remember.
It’s Tammy! Tammy Thompson. George Thompson’s daughter. She’s older than she was the last time I saw her, but I’m sure it’s her.
What the hell is she doing filming herself? Why is she doing that? What in the world is going on?
“Tammy?” I say her name without really thinking. Her eyes dart to me, and I stand frozen. She’s clearly mid-orgasm and seems unable to stop. I watch as her mouth stays open in that quintessential O-shape, with her back arched and her breasts popped out. She lets out a high-pitched wail as her body tenses. It’s honestly one of the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. Our gazes never leave one another’s.
When she’s done, she darts up, her legs snapping shut once she’s somewhat composed.
“Brick,” she breathes. She hasn’t done anything to cover her body, though, probably due to the shock of being walked in on. I’m in my own state of shock. My night has just taken the most unexpected turn.
“Tammy,” I say again. Words aren’t coming to me right now. I’m still fixated on the cum all over one of my tables. Her pussy must have dripped all over the wood. I can smell her arousal.
I can’t believe this is happening. She looks absolutely horrified, understandably. Maybe I can do something to ease the tension. I clear my throat, needing to take control of this situation.
“It sounds like you know who I am. Brick Barrister. And you’re Tammy. Tammy Thompson. Your father works for me.” By this point, I’m grinning. I can’t help it. I should be acting way more professional, but this situation is just too perfect.
Her body jumps a little at my words. Tammy seems to come to her senses, realizing that her body is completely exposed and that her father’s boss has just walked in on her masturbating.
She starts looking around the floor as if searching for something. Her gaze focuses on the floor behind me; I follow her eyes and see her clothes lying there in a messy pile. My face turns back to hers; she looks terrified. I’m sure she isn’t about to scurry past me to pick up her clothes.
I’m right. Instead, she scrambles for the few rags on the floor, picking them up to cover herself. It doesn’t do much because there’s too much of her delectable body to cover and not enough fabric.
I probably shouldn’t be smiling because Tammy is clearly a little distressed, but I can’t help it. I’m amazed at the weirdness of the situation, which I also find amusing. Maybe it’s not nice that I’m entertained by this, but I simply can’t help myself.
“What are you doing here?” she spits out at me. That question is a little surprising, considering. I expected apologies and embarrassed looks. I thought she was going to throw herself at my feet, begging for forgiveness. Honestly, I expected anything but the accusatory nature of her words. My eyebrows go up with shock.
“Well, I do own this place. I’m not sure if you saw – since it is so late at night – but my name is on the building and the letterhead and all the checks. Also, on the deed. I happen to own all of the equipment in this room as well since I am the one who paid for it. I think the better question is what are you doing here?” Her eyes look away from mine and to the floor. I can see her mind racing for an explanation. I wonder if she’ll find one.
“It’s not important. It’s whatever,” she mumbles.
“Oh, I beg to differ. I am very interested to hear your explanation for all of this. I’m all ears.” I motion for her to continue talking. Tammy isn’t getting out of this room without telling me why she came into it in the first place. I also want to know why she just came, literally, all over one of my tables.
I want to know a lot of things regarding this situation.
“It doesn’t matter, okay. I’m sorry. I’ll leave. We don�
��t have to make a big deal out of all of this. Honestly, we never have to see one another ever again.”
“Tammy, tell me the truth. What are you doing here? Why were you doing that?” I insist. She looks back at me, her eyes narrowed.
“I was filming an audition tape, okay! It was for this new reality series called Fantastic Florists.”
“Oh. Interesting.” My eyebrows go even higher. “Is it a porn show? Because that is the only explanation I can see for what was going on in here – that you’re auditioning for pornography.”
She had been very into her little show. Those noises she was making, the way her body arched and limbs twisted. I’m sure she’d be very popular. I doubt George’s daughter was auditioning for porn, but why else would this be happening? I truly can’t think of any other explanation outside of her being an exhibitionist. Which, now that I think about it, would make quite a bit of sense.
“No, I’m not doing that. It’s not that. I don’t…” she sputters. Her face is turning an ungodly shade of red. “It’s a competition for florists to make arrangements. I just got a little carried away. It was dumb, and I shouldn’t have done it. Obviously. I’m sorry; I made a mistake.” Her eyes dart between me and the floor.
I feel a little bad about it, but I start to laugh. I can’t believe her night went from auditioning from a flower arranging video to what I just walked in on. I can’t imagine the leap it took to get from arranging a couple of flowers to masturbating with a vase, but stranger things have happened.
“I can see you got a little carried away. Maybe more than a little carried away.”
I notice the camera she was using to record and walk over to it. An idea had started forming in my mind when I realized just who I was dealing with, and now it’s really starting to take hold.
Tammy jumps a little when I start moving, but she stays by the table. I stop the recording and pop open the tape deck, looking the little cassette over before placing it into my pocket.