My cock fights to free itself from my pants as I imagine Robin flushing with desire and embarrassment. I picture her face twisting in pleasure as she tries to control her breathing. I turn the speed up again and she makes a loud ahh sound. More heads turn to her, and this time, she fakes a sneeze. The people here are going to think she’s contagious at this rate.
I watch as Robin squirms in her seat, trying to put her weight on the armrest so the chair isn’t pressing the panties against her so much. I have a feeling this will be one conference neither of us will forget.
Oh my God, the feeling that is flooding me is so intense, so brutal, so utterly fucking delicious that I think I might just pass out on the spot. I am a giant fucking nerve ending and the sensation within me is only intensifying.
The speed of the panties is just at the place where it is driving me nuts but not pushing me over the edge. It’s holding me in a state of repressed pleasure and intense longing. It’s torture and it’s paradise in one strange feeling.
It doesn’t matter how I sit—I can’t make it any more comfortable. I’ve tried tilting my body to the side and pressing down on the armrest with my elbow to try and lift my weight off the panties. That didn’t work. They’re plastered to me like a second skin where I am so wet. I’ve tried pressing myself tighter against the seat but that just meant I felt the vibration on a deeper level. I am so tempted to shove my hand down my panties and finish the job and just hope no one notices.
I know I can’t do that though. There’s a line, and that’s very much over it. I just know I have to make it stop until I can get out of here without anyone spotting me acting weird. The noises I’ve not been able to hold in so far I’ve managed to turn into coughs and sneezes, but it’s getting ridiculous now. I’ve completely lost track of what the lecture is all about, and I guess I’ll have to spend a few hours researching CGI techniques in my own time. Ideally, before my team starts asking me about it when I go back to work.
I’ll take tomorrow off like Colin said and get my own payback on Denton for this exquisite torture, and then I’ll take some time over the weekend to brush up on this stuff. I thought focusing on something other than my pussy might help to stop me from feeling quite so overcome, but it doesn’t work. I am still a quivering wreck.
I try pressing my knees and my thighs together, but that only intensifies the vibrations and sets my full lips tingling and makes pulses of the feeling move through my thighs. I open my legs again, not too wide, but enough so that my lips are slightly parted.
There. That’s not too bad. It eases the pressure a little. I can still feel the vibrations and they are a tickling, teasing feeling, but I can handle that. I still can’t focus on the lecture, but I’m in control of myself and I’m not about to have a screaming orgasm in the room. I sit with my back ramrod straight, making sure not to move even a tiny bit as movement makes the panties rub on me as well as vibrate, which only heightens the sensation.
Suddenly the vibration stops. I dare to breathe in a full breath. I am relieved and deeply disappointed too. I am glad the sensation has stopped and I can think straight again, but I am so frustrated and I realize I was getting off on the secrecy of my own pleasure like this.
I shouldn’t have worried. After no more than twenty seconds have passed, the vibrating starts up again, and this time, it’s going full throttle. It’s like being massaged down there by a hundred fingers, all of which are hitting the exact right spot with the exact right amount of pressure. And they’re jiggling.
I can feel the blood rushing to my face and I fan myself with my hand as my body heats up. My heart is pounding and I am barely daring to breathe in case I make a noise. My hair is hanging across my face and I am sweaty all over. The sensation has me right on the edge, and I know I’m only a minute or two from climaxing.
I have to get out of here. I stand up abruptly and start to move along the row of chairs. I move slower than I’d ideally like to, not wanting to draw attention to myself.
It doesn’t work. My cell phone goes off loudly and every head in the room turns to look at me. I feel like I’m back in high school: on display and as awkward as fuck.