Vibrators

Lauren's pencil scratched against her detention worksheet with uneven strokes—too quick, too jagged—while Melissa's knee bounced beneath the desk in a frantic rhythm. Then Melissa coughed abruptly into her fist, her other hand vanishing beneath the desk. Across from her, Lauren inhaled sharply through her nose.

John pretended not to notice when Lauren's thigh muscles suddenly tensed, her plaid skirt hiking up another quarter inch as she shifted in her chair. The scent hit him first — something musky, something unmistakably *female*—and his nostrils flared involuntarily. He kept his gaze fixed on his paperwork, but his peripheral vision caught Melissa's fingers twitching toward her phone screen beneath the desk.

Lauren's breath hitched. A flush crept up her neck, blooming across her collarbones in pink waves. When she uncrossed and recrossed her legs, the whisper of nylon against nylon was loud enough to make John's cock twitch against his slacks. Melissa's responding smirk was barely contained behind her textbook, her own thighs pressing together as she tapped her phone screen again.

John adjusted his seating position with careful nonchalance, his grip tightening around his pen when Lauren's pencil suddenly skidded across her worksheet. Her lips parted on a silent gasp, her shoulders hunching forward as if bracing against an invisible ****. The scent intensified.

Melissa bit her lip hard, her knee bouncing faster beneath the desk. She glanced at Lauren through her lashes, then tapped her phone again. Lauren's thighs jerked together with enough **** to make her chair squeak, her knuckles whitening around the edge of the desk. A bead of sweat slid down her temple, glistening in the morning sunlight streaming through the windows.

John's pulse hammered in his throat when Melissa abruptly dropped her pencil. As she bent to retrieve it, her blouse gaped open just enough to reveal the swell of her breasts—and the faint buzzing sound emanating from beneath her skirt. John's breath caught. His cock hardened painfully against his thigh as realization dawned: *remote vibrators*.

Lauren whimpered—a soft, broken sound—before clapping a hand over her mouth. Her chest rose and fell in shallow bursts, her blue eyes glassy with unshed tears of pleasure. Melissa mirrored her desperation. The air between them crackled with tension, thick with the scent of their mutual arousal.

John swallowed hard, his own fingers twitching toward his belt buckle before he caught himself. He **** his gaze back to his paperwork, but not before noticing how Lauren’s legs parted and shook. Melissa wasn't faring much better; her thighs trembled visibly, her breath coming in short pants that made her breasts strain against her blouse.

The office clock ticked mercilessly on, each second stretching into eternity as the girls edged closer to climax. Lauren's fingers curled into fists, her nails biting into her palms as she fought to stay quiet. Melissa's phone slipped from her grasp entirely, clattering onto the desk with a sound that made them both flinch.

John pretended not to notice—pretended not to see the way Lauren's hips jerked forward when Melissa retrieved her phone and tapped the screen. He pretended not to hear the muffled whimpers, the creak of chair legs as both girls rocked against their seats. But the scent was undeniable, filling the office until it was all he could taste, all he could breathe.

Melissa's breath hitched first—a sharp intake of air that signaled her impending orgasm. Lauren followed a heartbeat later, her entire body tensing as she bit down on her lower lip. John's cock throbbed in sympathy, his own arousal a living thing beneath his slacks.

Then Melissa's phone buzzed—a final, decisive tap—and both girls came undone in perfect synchronization. Lauren's back arched violently, her skirt riding up to reveal the soaked fabric of her panties. Melissa muffled her cry against her forearm, her thighs clamping around nothing as her orgasm ripped through her.

John gripped the edge of his desk until his knuckles whitened, his own breath coming in shallow pants. The scent of their climaxes filled the room—salty and sweet and overwhelming—and he had to bite back a groan.

Lauren recovered first, hastily smoothing her skirt down over trembling thighs. Melissa fumbled for her phone, her fingers shaking as she tapped the screen to turn off the vibrator. Their breathing was still ragged, their cheeks flushed a deep pink when they finally dared to glance at John, who quickly looked down at his paperwork.