Follow The Rainbow

A buzz of anxiety and endorphins filled your head as you tottered back to your desk. Shame colored your cheeks the moment you rounded a corner, but desire and delight ruled you. As you sat at your desk, a mischievous hand snuck between your legs, just in time to be foiled by the mechanical hum of the copier.

"Shit~" You hissed, as you snatched your hand back on top of the desk, and tried to compose your flushed and sweaty body. Your clothes felt disheveled, and you could smell your own arousal mixing with your fragrant deodorant. A man rounded the corner, and your breath trembled as you stared at the papers in front of you with all the focus and attention of a school kid 5 minutes before the bell. The man glanced at you, eyebrow raised, but fortunately didn't seem to tell what was wrong... you hoped. He didn't say anything, at the very least, and soon he had collected his files and walked away.

The moment he left the archives, you moaned and planted your face on the desk. Your thighs rubbed together deliciously as you experienced the pulse of an unfamiliar pleasure warming your middle. One hand crossed over your head, and you panted as the other snuck between your trousers. Just a touch. That's all you needed, and you could return to work. You bit your lip and savored a long slow sigh as your hand slid closer and closer...

The copier chugged to life again, and your snarled in frustration, but immediately sat back up. The rest of the day continued much the same. Your headphones didn't help, and your mind was ruined for work. You were utterly hopeless, and found yourself staring at the wall in front of your desk, but seeing nothing but the colors of your own desire. You thought to get up and go to the bathroom, and even passed through the door once, but the stall remained indefinitely occupied by someone who seemed to have a stomach ache. You watched and became more flustered as man after man used the urinal in front of you, a simple act you could no longer perform. After 15 minutes the awkward tension broke, and you returned to your desk. Cranking up the music in your headphones you managed to ignore, or at least stave off, the desire that thrummed between your legs. You even managed to convince yourself it was fading, as you struggled through what remained of your daily tasks.

The bus home was mercifully eventless, yet left you pining for the privacy of your own room, and after a painfully slow elevator ride you trotted hastily to your apartment halfway down the hall. Right as you reached your door you heard someone calling your name. "Hey, Riley." You winced, and considered just ignoring them before taking a deep breath, sighing, and facing them.

The red head from down the hall stood 15 feet away. One hand was relaxed, while the other was propped up on her hip which was cocked out to the side. She was a tomboy, with short cropped hair feathered up and forward, though she wasn't quite butch. Dark eyeliner with a bold taper accented her eyes, green as deep woods. She wore an oversized flannel shirt like a drape over a black tank top. Her skin was pale enough to trace the subtle blue veins from the bottom of the high cuffed jean shorts, down her slender legs to the top of the chucks that fit her ankles. Your brow furrowed. Something wasn't right. You could see her long slender legs, though... at the same time, you could see something else. An image or an afterimage of something that wasn't really there. You mouth plopped open. Stockings. She was wearing, or seemed to be wearing, Rainbow stockings.

Her expression had been dry, flat, both innocent and sultry in the way that's only possible with big round eyes, and pouty lips, but as soon as she saw the recognition on your face, she smirked, and her eyes turned deviously predatory.

"You want to come over for some coffee?" She asked. Her words dripped of a saccharine poison, and you gulped dryly.