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Isabelle’s Awakening

Orgasm

Hello people! This my first submission, part of a story I’m writing. This is just the intro, the action heats up later…

I hope this doesn’t seem weird or insulting to anyone. If you like this/want more drop me a message!

= = =

Isabelle shut the door of her toilet cubicle after making sure the room was empty. Jessica, her current (and only) love interest, had demanded that she go here immediately. Isabelle was, in honesty, scared — She knew that Jessica was a far more experienced girl than her. They both, undoubtedly, liked each other in *that* way, already having shared a passionate kiss together after work hours. Jessica had even touched Isabelle’s breasts, but this was as far as they had ever been. They weren’t going out, but there was something between them — that was definite.

This really made Jessica’s latest command odd. The note had been passed to Isabelle when she came running past, carrying a whole stack of paper. It wasn’t a hastily scrawled note, but it was clear that Jessica in a hurry when she penned it — for example, the “x”s at the end were huge and went off the page. However, the orders were still clear.

Isabelle sat down on the toilet. Jessica still had not yet arrived. Isabelle read the note again:

“hey sweetiee, I want to try something now with you. It wont be much, don’t worry, just goto the toilets and sit in the end cubicle, ill come nd sit in the next one soon after, ;)”

The nature of Isabelle’s sexuality was not very clear. She knew she was interested in women — no doubt about it, she found them vastly more attractive. She liked to browse pictures of famous celebrities in her spare time, finding them pretty beyond belief, but she never seemed to be sexually aroused. Not even when Jessica felt her bra, all that drove her was how pretty she found her.

She didn’t know what to do in here. She was wearing normal work attire, a blouse, without a jacket (left by her desk), and a mid length skirt. Underneath, her panties were pure white, as well as her bra, which was especially tight.

Her automatic reaction when in a toilet cubicle was, well, to go to the toilet — so she did. She knew Jessica was going into a different cubicle, so there was nothing to worry about. She lowered her skirt and panties, but stayed still, not peeing, because just then, Jessica walked in.

Isabelle heard her high heels clipping along the room at a fast pace, excited. The cubicle next to her opened and then closed with a bang. Isabelle dared not move, Casibom tensing up in position for anything. She trusted Jessica more than anyone else at the moment, but right now, she felt truly alone.

She heard the unzipping of a skirt. Maybe it was someone else? That would be fine. Isabelle would probably have preferred that. What she then heard was more desperate shuffling, as if they were negotiating more than just a skirt.

Then, silence. Isabelle held her breath.

Suddenly, in a flash of red, a hand appeared from below, through the gap between cubicles. The red in the hand was what shook Isabelle to the core — panties. They were crimson, with intricate lace knitted nearly around the edges in beige. They seemed thicker than most, and almost appeared well worn.

The hand remained there for a few moments. Isabelle leaned over for a closer look. She didn’t know whether Jessica was just… showing her, or giving them to her? But why would she do that?

Suddenly the hand shook, making Isabelle jump. She quickly grabbed them — they seemed heavy in her hand. She brought them up, but dropped them on her lap, unsure as to whether she should be touching such a thing.

They were so… detailed, so fine, and they were very warm. They almost seemed appealing, sitting innocently on her lap.

Then she heard a tap, making her jump again. She let out a gasp, and saw the empty hand below again. This time, they wanted to take something. She also realised that Jessica would be sitting in the other cubicle without panties on now, whilst Isabelle took her time examining them.

She picked them up, only with two fingers, and dropped them back into Jessica’s hand. The hand returned, back to its own cubicle.

But then the panties were dropped back in.

“No, Isabelle, give me yours!” came a harshly whispered voice.

This, Isabelle did not expect. She grabbed her sides, pulling back from the voice, intimidated. What could she do?

She could just leave. This was far too embarrassing.

…But, this was Jessica. She really had a good feeling for Jessica, how she looked, how she behaved, how she laughed. She can’t be a bad influence on me, can she?

Isabelle, in another split second decision, tossed her panties to Jessica. Then everything happened very quickly — there was a grabbing sound, then a sniffing, followed my a low, resounding “Mmm”. Then, there was the sound of clothes being put on, quickly, and suddenly, the cubicle next to Isabelle was empty, Casibom Giriş and she was left in the room, alone.

Without her own panties.

She was in shock. Above all, that was just rude. How could she do that?! She stole her clothes! Now all she had before her was Jessica’s panties — empty, vacant, and unwelcoming.

And she had nothing to wear underneath now. She was well aware that many office girls did not wear panties to work — but then again, they all liked men. She felt she had no choice but to do what Jessica had done — swap panties.

Did she have a choice? Maybe. But what matters is that she chose this path.

She slid the panties up slowly. Once they had arrived in their place, she felt their warmth, glowing around her groin. They were tight, and almost weighed her down. The red was clashing with the rest of her outfit, quite dramatically (but unless someone was about to investigate her, this wasn’t a problem — it just nudged at her quietly). She had a terrible feeling about all this. She hitched up her skirt again and walked out.

She sat back at her desk and tried to ignore the tightness around her groin. Isabelle wasn’t fat at all, quite the contrary, but Jessica was smaller than her, making the swap less than suitable. She ignored it and decided to continue typing up her report.

An hour passed, and the panties still itched. They still seemed to carry an uneasy warmth with them. She wondered how Jessica was taking it. Assuming it was all just a quirky experiment, she’d be at her desk like normal. They both worked quite late so they’d probably swap back and have a laugh about all this.

Or, if it was more serious, Jessica could be anywhere. Isabelle had not been wearing expensive panties, so if they were damaged in any way, it shouldn’t be a problem — however, Jessica’s seemed to be expensive, at least designer, so one could only assume Isabelle was being trusted with a fairly expensive pair. Jessica always had a lot of money.

At lunch, Isabelle didn’t see Jessica. They usually went to different places or had slightly different hours, so this wasn’t unusual at all.

However, later, Isabelle did want to know that everything was normal, so she went to look for Jessica. Besides, the panties were still too tight for her, despite having a few hours to settle in, so she wanted to swap back again.

On her way to Jessica’s work area, she thought about the past day, still confused. But, when she arrived, she was even more confused, because Casibom Yeni Giriş Jessica wasn’t there.

Her work seemed to be across her desk, as usual — she wasn’t very neat — but her computer was on standby and her bag was gone, as well as her jacket. Isabelle looked for a note, since it was the kind of message she’d leave, but couldn’t find one. Checking her text messages, she found nothing. The only other thing would be e-mail, but Jessica didn’t use that, and MSN was only at home.

She decided to ask someone else. Next to Jessica’s cubicle was Grace, who worked a very similar job to Jessica. The two didn’t get along well. Isabelle was very shy so it took some initial courage to ask. Jessica’s panties still burned around her groin.

“Uuuh… Grace?” she started, quietly.

“Oh, yes Isabelle?” said Grace, looking up, wide eyed, from her work. Isabelle couldn’t help but admire her — her brunette hair, her beautiful eyes, and an almost perfectly formed face.

“Erm… do you… do you know where Jessica is?”

Grace laughed, “Oh, that slag? She’s gone home sick, she looked really stressed out earlier. She’s probably just skiving.”

Isabelle felt hurt about that comment — she didn’t like to hear her friend being called a slag — but it was common knowledge that Jessica was more than easy, and she fucked both men and (usually) just got off with drunk girls (she was especially famous for being ‘sober’ on most of those occasions).

But Isabelle couldn’t bring herself to dispute this — Grace was very popular in the office, and nobody knew anything about Isabelle and Jessica. Plus, Isabelle just felt like running away right now, so she turned without another word and went straight back to her seat.

Now she was stuck at work with someone else’s underwear. Jessica was *never* ill, besides frequent hangovers, and was never ever stressed. It felt like more than just a casual link between this experiment and Jessica’s disappearance. Stressed? How could she be stressed? Also, one bad feeling Isabelle held onto had to be deeply suppressed, but she had heard the rumours of Jessica’s sex life… even masturbation habits.

But Isabelle did not want to believe rumours like that, so she didn’t. She strictly saw Jessica as a good friend, and never associated her with sex. In fact, Isabelle kept well away from sex all together.

She furiously tried to ignore this confusion, and it seemed to work — when it came to 5, she had almost forgotten about it.

As she left the building, she turned on her phone. Suddenly, like a gunshot, she was reminded of the day’s weirdness — Jessica had sent her a text.

It was only about 2 hours old. It simply said:

“aaah. Chek ur e-mail at home : ) xxxxxxx”

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