Crossing the Line

My heart races, and my instinct reacts by stepping into the shower and closing the door. I feel panicked. I don’t know what to do.

I hear his footsteps getting closer and closer. All my senses are on high alert. I want to scream and call for help, but my voice won’t come out.

“What a sight to behold. Naked, dripping wet, wearing nothing but a pair of tiny glasses. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such a sexy vision in my life.”

Only then did I realize who was on the other side of the door. That voice—hoarse and deep, seductive and… dangerous. Mr. Parker, my boss, saw me naked.

“P… Please, l… leave. I’m not… I’m not in a state to talk. And this is the women’s locker room!”

I feel the pressure of his body against the door. The music continues; the hot water that once felt so good is now too hot and unpleasant.

“I beg your pardon, but when I walked in here, I never imagined I’d witness something that will stay with me forever. I knocked on the door four times, and when you didn’t answer, I thought something had happened to you, so I stepped into the hallway when… when I heard your moans.”

My body is melting from the heat and the shame I feel. Not only did I go against my boss and headbutt him, but I also insulted him in a message he read. And now, I’m caught moaning and masturbating—by him! This day couldn’t get any worse!

“I’m sorry that… that you heard something and thought other things. P… please, leave.”

“I saw it. Please, keep going. Don’t stop because of me.”

The shock and the heat almost make me faint. I must be hallucinating. In an act of escape, I switched the water from hot to cold, trying to regain my sanity and my dignity. But he’s there, behind the door. He can’t see me, he can’t touch me. He can only listen.

I hesitate. I have no words to answer him. I press my ear against the door, trying to hear something.

“I’m still here. I won’t come in. I beg you, please, to continue.”

I swallow hard. I’m too nervous.

“No… I don’t think I can.”

He senses my insecurity and lets out a guttural sound, like a lion’s roar. Not even the cold water calms me, nor does it reawaken my body from the trance it’s in.

“Here’s what we’ll do: do whatever I tell you. I’ll just be your narrator.”

That voice makes my lower abdomen burn. The words come out softly, like a kiss on my skin.

“Do you agree? Just answer yes or no.”

After a long silence on my part, thinking that tomorrow I might lose my job, or worse, that what happens here today might spread throughout the office, I’ll be destroyed. But fuck it, I don’t want to regret later having rejected what might be the best sexual experience of my life. Maybe the only one.

“Y… Yes.”

I hear his guttural grin. Just hearing it turns me on even more. Right now, the person behind the door isn’t the ruthless Mr. Leonard Parker; he’s the narrator of my erotic experience, a voyeur who sees nothing but hears everything.

“Lean against the door. With your back to it.”

I do as he says. My ass presses against the dull wood, followed by my shoulder blades and my hair. He seems to hear the muffled sound my body makes as it presses against the door.

“Very good. Now, close your eyes and relax. Don’t open your eyes to anything.”

I close my eyes, my senses growing even sharper and my nerves consuming me.

“I need you to do exactly what I tell you, sweetie. Put your index finger in your mouth and suck on it.”

His voice purrs the orders and I give in. I raise my right hand and slip my index finger into my mouth, letting it rest under my tongue. I explore my finger as if it were someone else’s.

“Take your finger out of your mouth and slide that hand down to your right nipple. Play with it using that wet finger that’s been sucked by your beautiful mouth.”

His voice is growing hoarser by the second. I inhale as I hear the new command. The erotism is in the darkness, in the closed eyes. In the sound. I play with my nipple, feeling it harden. I resist the urge to caress the other one.

“With your other hand, I want you to move down to your wonderful pussy and take a bit of your wetness. Bring your wetness to the other nipple and touch it. Eat it as if it were my mouth.”

When I open my slit, I find not just wetness, but a pool. I’m wet and completely craving contact there. With my two wet fingers, I rub my left nipple, but this time, I squeeze it when I feel it harden and pull it gently, giving me a sensation of pleasure. I want more.

“Now, my sweet Goddess, I guess you're as wet as I am hard.” – I hear something fall from her side. – “Slide that hand of yours down to your pussy and bury your finger inside you. Do it, sweetie.”

I don’t wait. I slide my hand down, running my fingers over my aching clit, desperate for friction; I slide my index finger into my wetness, and oh, how good it feels. I moan without fear, forgetting his presence on the other side of the door.

“Pull your finger out and slide it back in. Until I tell you to stop.”

His voice is deep, and his words come faster. I hear him breathing heavily. I do as he says, feeling the emptiness when I pull my finger out of me, only to feel filled again. I start thrusting into myself with my finger, always imagining it’s him shoving his finger inside me. I start moaning and gasping, as if I’m out of breath. I feel like I won’t be able to hold on much longer.

“Squeeze and pull your beautiful nipple while you fuck yourself, sweetie. Squeeze it as if I were sucking it with my mouth.”

A muffled scream escapes from the depths of my throat. I’ve never felt this before. I’ve never felt so much pleasure.

“I… No… I can’t take it anymore…”

I hear his rapid breathing and hear him touching himself. I imagine him grabbing his dick and masturbating, for me.

“Fuck, sweetie. Touch yourself, touch yourself until you come!”

His last command to me is pure relief. Without thinking, I pull my finger out of me and massage my clit, which is about to explode. I tease myself with circular movements of my middle finger, imagining it’s him doing it. I speed up the motion, feeling my legs start to tremble. A hot and cold sensation washes over my body, exploding into such pleasurable pain in my pussy that I moan too loudly. I came so hard that my legs gave out, and I slid to the floor, moving my fingers and closing my legs around my hand. While the spasms kept assaulting me, I heard him on the other side of the door; an obscenity and a muffled scream like a roar escaped him. His moan. I stay on the floor, the cold water running over my body, trying to steady my breathing. Suddenly, I snap back to reality—is he still behind the door? I try to get up, but freeze when I hear two knocks on the door.

“Have a good night, Blair.”

I can’t answer him, but after a few seconds, I hear the locker room door slam shut.