Feels Like Waking Up From A Dream. Also, Some Exposition

Awareness slowly returned to her as she lay there, soaked crotch causing cold shivers where the air met her skin. Business skirt bundled around her knees from being pulled down in a hurry, while trails of her own juices had reached the bottom of her sweater.

Looking down between her legs confirmed that it hadn't been a dream. Her clit actually had grown and there was no way this was just some sort of skin reaction or allergy, not with how oversized it had become. She tentatively reached down, prodding her clit with a manicured nail, her hand recoiling at the sharp sensation.

Looking at her nails and then bringing her hand back down to rest at the base of her clit, she briefly considered if she had some sort of mental breakdown and if the events of today were possibly just delusions, there was no rational explanation for her clit suddenly growing in her skirt. Maybe stress from work finally caused her to crack. Still, she couldn't justify what sort of issue might lead her to imagining a situation where it blows up in size and then she...

''Oh, fuck...''

The realization that she had sucked off her assistant in her office suddenly hit her. Making her wish that the events of the day had been some sort of figment of a delusional imagination. The feeling of disgust stuck in her head as she looked down at her cum drenched crotch again

She carefully got up off the floor and undressed, throwing her clothes into her laundry basket and then heading for the bathroom. After spending a few minutes examining herself in the mirror, she managed to take a shower, all the while extremely conscious of her sensitive and oversized clit.

Getting dressed proved just as difficult, particularly the struggle to find something that would hide her clit from any potential visitors, without the fabric stimulating her whenever she moved. That meant going naked from the waist down and wearing any sort of loose fabric that might brush back and forth was out of the question. She finally settled on a tight tank top and some yoga pants with boyshort panties underneath, the added layers of fabric helping to disguise the slight bulge she now had to worry about, while being just snug enough to hold everything in place.

The mess in front of her couch gave her something else to occupy her mind as she returned to the living room. Namely grabbing a mop and cleaning up, then wiping down her couch and silently thanking herself for having chosen leather. But, the foreign lump in her panties stayed in the back of her mind the whole time, nagging at her. Even when she was finished cleaning, she needed something to keep her mind away from it, so she turned her laptop on and started reviewing case files on a lawsuit her firm had recently lost.

They had been seeking medical damages on behalf of factory workers who had been complaining to their higher ups for months about bad air filtration systems not working properly, not getting anywhere until a few of them had started collapsing at work, finally setting the stage for investigations and later lawsuits. Months of work had been thrown away when everything seemed to turn against them, records of the workers reporting bad conditions, even police reports of workers who had taken the complaint directly and physically to their managers, all disappeared. So did health and safety inspection reports. Then the workers and witnesses started to withdraw from the suit, leaving her with nothing to build a case from. Especially as the opposing team had an army of experts, with years of on record experience testifying in court (and a reputation among lawyers as being very much ''worth the money'' to whichever team hired them).

She slammed the folder of evidence closed, breathing heavy in frustration for a moment before slamming her laptop shut as well. She realised she was starting to get a bit hungry, a while had passed since she got home that day, her stomach starting to grumble. Presumably complaining about the diet of soda and toast she'd been on since the morning.

Seeing as she was already half dressed, she quickly slipped on some shoes, and grabbed a bra for under her tank top then got a comfy hoodie and headed out the door. Considering where she might be able to get some food.

The thought of whether the food stand served anything suitable, or if they were even still open, briefly crossing her mind as she made her way down the steps from her apartment, the movement of her legs reminding her of the engorged clit pressed into her panties. Conflicted thoughts about what the food seemed to have done to her, and what she had done under it's effects, almost tempting her to focus on the frustration of losing the case instead of the bizarre stimulation walking was providing.