It's a struggle

My thoughts continue to paint a perverted picture and all I can do is sit here in front of a pack of artists. Sure, maybe those exact thoughts aren't being captured, but I'm sure my distress is obvious to some. What if someone were to draw a naughty version of me? The true me. The me that looks at a group of focused artists like I'm flicking through matches on Tinder.

I wonder how many of them have erections right now? The ones that'd give into temptation. All one of us would have to do is summon the courage to speak our minds. It wouldn't have to be right now either. The wait makes me crazy, but it also makes the final release all that much better. Hell, if I'm really unfortuate, I could end up spending the rest of my workday thinking about the 'overtime' I'd share with my man of choice.

I don't know how much longer I've got. If you ask me, I've been sitting here for an eternity. Of course, it hasn't been that long, but surely this session will be over soon. If only the wall I was staring at had a clock. Then I'd at least have an idea of how much longer I've got to go. I'm almost tempted to look around the room for one, but that'd just betray my anxiety.

My fingers twitch. I know where I want them to be right now. I want them deep in my craving cunt. I want them to rub all the right spots until I'm lost in the orgasm I can't stop thinking about. Then my legs shake. Shaking like they would if I was near the sort of orgasm I can't stop thinking about. I don't even think I could walk to the bathroom if I asked to. Not without stumbling over myself like a complete fool.

I can't help but believe that someone's noticed my inability to sit still. After all, these artists are supposed to sketch every detail. I wonder if I've ruined someone's piece? Maybe they'd need to take their frustration out on me. To make a mess out of me like I made a mess of their masterpiece. I could become their new canvas for them. They could spank and pinch me until I go red. They could write all their nasty thoughts about me on my body. And of course, they could cum anywhere they want on me.

God, I can just imagine sitting in my office with all their 'artwork' underneath my uniform. No one would have a clue. Well, at least I'd like to think so. Maybe I'd have a button undone, or maybe my hair would still be a bit of a mess. Hell, it's not like I got a good look at everyone who's drawing me. I could be stark naked in front of a fellow employee or former client.

What if someone from the office is here? They'd probably never shut up about it. It'd be like the time I was fucking that cute intern. I think it was barely five minutes after I'd first blown him he was already in the break room bragging about how I gave the best head he'd ever had. Swear he made half the office jealous with how much he'd talk about me. At least he's working for some other law firm now.

Then again, he did have a nice dick. Big, but not too big, and pretty girthy too. He knew how to use it too. Just like he did at the office Christmas party. I swear I lost count of the number of times he made me cum that night, especially considering he was somehow up for round two at his apartment. And round three in the morning... Maybe I should call him sometime and see if he's still single.

I don't know how much longer I can take this. Every time I try and think about anything other than sex I end up circling back to sex. Maybe I should give in and take that break. To just rush off to the bathroom and take care of myself. With how worked up I am, it wouldn't even take me a minute. Then I could come back and **** myself all over again. Guess that might not be a good idea after all.

That's when Magnus says the words I've been **** to hear: "Alright. Time is up."

Finally. I take a well-earned sigh of relief before looking at Magnus and asking "Can I stand up?"

"Of course."

I get back on my feet and take a moment to stretch. They probably expect me to look at the drawings now, but in all honestly, I'd much rather excuse myself so I can finally take care of my needs.