An exercise in frustration

The next morning Brit woke up feeling horny again. Another round of self-pleasure took care of that, and this time she didn't make more than a token effort to imagine hot guys before switching to women in her fantasies. Fantasizing about her friends still seemed over the line, but subbing in images of girls she'd known in high school but lost touch with and female celebrities seemed to work fine. She went to work feeling relaxed in the afterglow, sexually satisfied.

That feeling lasted maybe seven minutes after she got to the gym. Seeing women in sports bras and yoga pants working up a sweat, tight asses and toned legs pumping as they worked the eliptical machines, hearing their grunts as they pounded out reps on the free weights quickly got her worked up again. Running her lunchtime yoga class was even worse. Suddenly every pose seemed suggestive, sexual. It was impossible to get centered as visions of flexibe women getting naked and trying these poses with each other filled her head. She actually had to turn class over to Meghan French, her best student, and run back to her office to jill herself off again. This time her fantasies sped straight to her clients -- she didn't even try to imagine a man. The orgasm was more intense but less satisfying than the one this morning. She brought herself off again, but solitary vice just wasn't enough.

*Get them to join you,* the voice in her head whispered. *We can make that happen.*