Soma

Amy glanced at Rachel, as if to base her behavior on the redhead's. Rachel just smiled at Lauren, and turned towards Dmitri to whisper a question about shareholder privileges. Dmitri sat, as cocksure as ever, in the corner of the room to Lauren's right. The blonde, in her naked state, had enjoyed the discomfort she'd instilled in the man the night before. Today, however, Dmitri's self-assured nature had reasserted itself, as evidenced by the fact that he openly stared at Lauren's body. Strangely, the naked girl found this somewhat of a relief, as the averted eyes and timid smiles of people like Danny and Bramley only seemed to make her more uncomfortable; she was naked, there was no need to pretend as if she weren't.

Mitch Oldenburg and Ken Fuji were to Dmiti's left, both Senior Legal Counsels at the same level of seniority as Amy Melrose. Mitch was two years older than Lauren, Ken a year younger. Both were single, two of the very few uncommitted men in Suite 2600, but neither had ever held any appeal to Lauren. The former was a bit heavy around the midsection and not in the least bit charming or attractive. The latter was a small, bespectacled Japanese man-boy who seemed as if he might be more comfortable on an 8th grade chess team than in the corporate law office of a Fortune 500 company.

Lauren sat between Fuji and Yvonne Egremont. Yvonne was a good-looking woman in her early fifties. She'd been married and subsequently divorced, had a son in an upscale Manhattan high school, and more than anyone in the office, appeared unnerved by Lauren's lack of clothing. The blonde had never been sure of how Yvonne really saw her -- after all, if Lauren successfully closed the Cortland acquisition and was promoted, she and the older women would be peers, Lauren accomplishing by thirty what had taken Yvonne more than two decades longer. Lauren had once wondered aloud to Rachel if Yvonne might have thought the blonde was using her body to progress up the corporate ranks. If she had, the exposed skin to Yvonne's right would certainly have lent credence to that assumption.

They had gathered to update Paul McIntosh in Corporate Development as to the state of their work on the contract. Lauren had been the point person from the get-go, even if technically it was Dick Bramley to whom Jim Grieve had assigned the work. The others had been assembled to lend their time and expertise to Lauren's endeavor, aiding and assisting wherever they could. They were all stressed, but ultimately, the responsibility for closing the deal before the end of the Third Quarter fell on Lauren's own bare shoulders. And, perhaps due to that fact, only Lauren sat naked in Bramley's office, only Lauren had been affected by an anxiety attack.

Bramley put McIntosh on speakerphone, and the assembled lawyers began to address the disembodied voice. Lauren answered questions when asked, and handed off to her colleagues when appropriate. But her concentration was divided, her mind unable to get past the embarrassing fact that her nipples were rock hard.

It was probably just the temperature difference between her office and that of her boss. Lauren glanced nervously around the semicircle to see if anyone had noticed, but aside from a sideways glance from Danny, no one seemed to be paying her all that much attention. She knew that if she could ignore them, her erect nipples would eventually subside, but Lauren found herself incapable of doing so. Even as she spoke about corporate liability and specific contract language, her mind flashed upon all that had happened in the past twenty-four hours. She was naked in Bramley's office. She'd spent the entire day, and night before, naked at work. Her clothes were sitting in a laboratory somewhere downtown, her coworkers were all looking at her as she expounded on Evelyn Apparel's limits of responsibility, and her nipples were standing a full attention for all to see.

Her body temperature began to rise, first in her flushed cheeks, then somewhere deep in chest, and finally further south, in her lap. Her legs were crossed, so there was no way to be sure, but Lauren was fairly confident that she could feel her pussy begin to moisten. Danny hung on every word, Amy and Rachel nodded along with everything she said, and Dmitri's eyes wandered from her face to her chest to her legs. The full measure of her situation had only just then begun to sink in, and though Lauren was espousing on the future legal existence of all current Cortland Menswear stores, for the first time since she'd undressed at the hospital Lauren wasn't thinking about Cortland. She was too focused on her nudity.

What the hell had she been thinking? Was her career worth this level of degradation? And, if she'd done this for money, for the promotion and the accompanying raise, did that make her a prostitute?

No, she told herself. She hadn't slept with anyone.

Yet.

A shiver shot up Lauren's spine, running counter to the fact that she continued to feel warmer with each passing second. Whether it had been caused by fear, Lauren afraid of just how far she might be willing to go, or by titillation, the shiver had been visible to anyone paying attention to her.

She'd be getting a significant salary increase with a promotion, and would only get the promotion if she were willing to undress for it. No, she wasn't a prostitute, selling sex for money. She was a stripper.

Lauren pictured herself shimmying before the people in the room, her tits bouncing back and forth and her hips grinding about in a suggestive manner. She bent over Bramley's desk and spread first her legs, and then her pussy lips, allowing Oldenburg and Fuji to see "into" her, her moist, pink, folds begging to be penetrated. She saddled up onto Dmitri's lap and forced herself against his erect cock, the thin layers of his boxers and pants all that was keeping this lap dance from becoming full-fledged intercourse. As she tweaked her own nipples, Rachel slid a five-dollar bill into a black lace garter on her left thigh that had miraculously appeared.

"So in conclusion," Lauren droned on, her voice entirely divorced from the wicked scenes playing out in her head, "we do think that Page 112, Section 14, Paragraph 4 appropriately designates what is covered by the trademark agreement and what is not."

She was, of course, still seated in the corner. Her nipples were erect, her skin was tingling, and her pussy was growing wetter as each second ticked by. She had a manila folder spread out on her lap, with dozens of printouts and copied pages scattered within. And, as she flipped pages, she swore she caught the scent of her own vagina. Clamping her legs tighter together, Lauren carried on.

Each and every person in the room was dressed smart and professionally, skirts and pantsuits for the women, suits and ties for the men. Lauren was the sole exception, seated in the corner of her boss's office wearing her large hoop earrings, a silver choker, her watch, a few rings, and a faux pearl bracelet. A silver anklet -- her bracelet from the day before, really -- dangled at the base of her right calf, which itself hung suspended in the air over her left leg. She was wearing heels, which now, along with the jewelry, only served to drive home the stripper analogy. If she was going to be naked in the office, she had wanted to look her best. And if she was looking her best, a part of her wanted to be seen and acknowledged.

Lauren held the room's attention -- that much for sure. As she spoke, all eyes were on her. Danny, Amy, Rachel, Dmitri, Oldenburg, Fuji, Yvonne, and Bramley -- all eight followed her every word. Dmitri was perhaps the most blatant and Danny the one who most pretended not to look while looking, but everyone in the room was soaking in Lauren's nude presence. Amy was looking at her breasts, Fuji alternating between her soft, smooth skin of her bare shoulder and her erect nipples. Even Rachel seemed to be transfixed by Lauren's naked thighs, her gaze fixed upon her friend's lap as if she were waiting for the Sharon Stone moment to arrive.

As it were, that moment might just have to happen sooner than later. Lauren's clit was throbbing at the top of her slit, and every time she squeezed her legs tighter, it sent waves of erotic energy through the lower half of her body. It wasn't that it made her uncomfortable; on the contrary, Lauren's problem was that it was beginning to make her all too comfortable. As the pulsing of her clit continued, Lauren realized she needed to take a break, she needed to keep her body from betraying her.

And so, despite concern about how uncrossing her legs might appear, afraid that someone might catch a glimpse of her glistening, wet pussy lips, and terrified that Fuji or Yvonne might smell her sex, Lauren nonetheless shifted in her seat and put both feet on the floor. She sat up straight, the manila folder still shielding her lap, but dropped her right hand between her thighs as an extra precautionary measure. Her palm was a few inches from her open slit, but Lauren could feel the heat emanating from inside her. If she were alone, in the comfort of her own home, her natural reaction might next have been to touch herself, lightly at first but steadily increasing in pressure upon her clit.

She wasn't alone, though. She did relax a bit as Bramley took over the conversation, informing McIntosh of his group's progress. No longer was the room's attention focused on the naked blonde, and Lauren took the opportunity to quickly, casually, and sneakily touch the outer lips of her pussy with the middle finger of her right hand. No one noticed, but two things suddenly crossed Lauren's mind. First, there were the fireworks that had been set off in her cunt, her whole body physically reacting to the touch. Secondly, Lauren realized just how wet she really was, and she began to grow concerned about the prospects of leaving a wet stain behind her on Bramley's chair when she got up to leave.

Lauren cursed herself for what she'd just done. No, no one had seen her. But she was in a room full of peers, superiors, and juniors, and she'd just run a finger along her naked pussy. She wasn't going to be tempted again -- Lauren re-crossed her legs, this time draping her left over her right.

"Oh, that's right," Lauren reacted to herself as she remembered why she'd uncrossed her legs in the first place. Her clit throbbed once more, causing Lauren's whole body to tremble slightly, and she bit her lip as pleasure rushed through her body.

"Not here," she told herself. "Not here, not here." But it was no use. Without any further touching, without any further stimulation, Lauren Laframboise was going to reach her climax in a room full of her colleagues.

Her heart began to beat faster and her lungs called for more air. Lauren paced each breath, deliberately inhaling and exhaling softly, doing her best to act casual as her body once more did its best to betray her. Another shiver ran up her spine, and Lauren was sure that someone had noticed. Glancing around the room, though, everyone was focused on Bramley.

"Not here, not here." She uncrossed her legs once more, hoping the cool air of exposure might settle her body down. She grasped the handles of her chair, digging her nails into the fabric as much to fight the temptation of touching herself as to simply hold on for the impending explosion. Her clit continued to throb, her pussy tingling as if it was being aggressively toyed with a vibrator. Lauren continued to bite her lower lips, continued to dig her fingernails into the chair, and as a great wave approached, she shut her eyes.

She was cumming.

Lauren fought the urge to moan, but all breathing stopped. One of her fingernails snapped under the pressure being exerted, and Lauren couldn't help but squirm in her chair as her orgasm overtook her. She was now sweating, and could feel a drop of perspiration trickle down her naked back. Wave after wave of venereal bliss overtook her, all while she was doing her best to present a strong, calm face to the room. If she'd been in bed with a partner, she might have screamed. If she'd been in bed alone, she might have whined with content. Instead, so low that neither Fuji nor Yvonne could hear, Lauren let out a small whimper and finally exhaled.

The blonde opened her eyes, sure that she'd been caught. She'd lost all track of the conversation taking place, but she could sense, from Bramley's tone, that he was winding the conference down. Only Rachel, though, seemed to be paying Lauren any attention at all. The redhead looked confused, but ultimately sympathetic, mouthing the words, "Are you alright?" across the room.

Lauren nodded. Rachel knew something was up, but Lauren doubted that Rachel suspected the truth.

The truth? Well, Lauren herself wasn't quite sure what to believe. Practically untouched, the product more of her mind than her body, Lauren had just reached orgasm in a room full of people.