Copyright© 1994-09-14 Rajah Dodger
Rest Room Reaction, by Rajah Dodger <email@example.com>, Copyright© 1994. All rights reserved, except that electronic not-for-profit reproduction rights only are explicitly granted with the stipulation that this authorship and permission note must remain attached.
I was heading down the hall toward the men's room when I heard a squeaking noise coming from the women's room. I thought this was odd, since I didn't think anyone else was working this late. I think the lateness of the hour got to me, as otherwise I'd never have considered opening the women's room door. It was a good thing this place oils its hinges well.
What with it being after 10 pm, the bathroom only had about a quarter of its lights on. I heard a female voice panting, saying something like "ummmm, nummm, do it, do it..." Between that and the squeaking sound I managed to work out that some one was in here trying to get off. I ducked my head down and scanned the spaces under the stall doors till I saw one with feet. Nice feet, splayed wide with sensible blue pumps set to one side. I wondered how I was going to pull this off...
I slid under the side of the stall at the end. It was only two down from the one where the woman was sitting. Her voice was lower and softer now, little fluttery noises from deep in her throat. I took off my shoes, set them up on the ledge, and climbed up on top of the toilet. Good thing I did a lot of push-ups when I was young, my arms were up to the task of getting up on top of the stall wall. Of course the bonus was that with my shoes out of view, and me at the back of the stall, I was pretty much invisible to a casual onlooker. I balanced my belly on the wall and poked my head out further. Finally I saw what was going on. Or getting off, more like.
She was nice looking -- black hair, frilly yellow blouse gaping open, medium tits, smooth legs. Her panties were out of sight, probably on the floor the way she had her legs spread. She was leaning back on the toilet seat with three fingers sliding through her wet slit and her left hand mauling her breast. She must have been pinching her nipple -- it was red, and stuck out like a cherry on a sundae. Her eyes were closed, and I got an immediate erection from the scene. Her fingers started going faster again, and she flipped her thumb against her nipple as she muttered "fuck him, don't need him, don't need her, fuck 'em, got myself, yeah, right there, do me, do me, ahhhhhhh...". Her mumbles faded into groans and gurgles, as her right hand became a blur between her pussy and her clit, ending when she suddenly sagged back with a long "OOOohhhhhhhh".
I was breathing faster myself, and I watched in fascination as she took some toilet paper and dabbed at her sweaty face and chest, then sat up and flushed the toilet, using the spray like a bidet. I couldn't get enough of this, but suddenly something happened that made me freeze. I felt a hand on my crotch.
Now understand my position: balanced on the stall separator wall, head and chest on one side, waist down hanging in the air on the other. I hadn't heard the bathroom door open, and I would have felt the breeze if my stall door had been opened. (At least I think I would have... I'll admit I was pretty much absorbed in the woman I was watching.) That only left one possibility -- someone had heard this woman and had the same idea I had. I hoped it wasn't security.
I hoped it was a woman, and I really wished I could do something to find out because there were fingers tracing my erection through my pants and I couldn't move without making enough noise to draw attention from the woman I had watched. That didn't seem like a good idea. She was buttoning her blouse now; her nipples were almost visible through it. As she drew her panties back up her legs, I dropped my head to be on the safe side. I had my own problems to deal with. The fingers in my crotch knew what they were doing, and a hand had joined them pressing my pants into the split of my bottom. It looked like I was going to be having my own sexual experience, but it was going to be in my pants.
I heard the woman leave her stall and wash her hands, then I heard a female voice from my stall call out to her. "Elaine? You still working on that Harkins project?" "Oh... hi, Marge. Yes, it's a grind but you know how it is when you have to get something done."