Exposure

I had my instructions:

Go to the washroom, lock the door, strip completely naked, sit on the counter (if possible) and spread your legs. Imagine me, lift your knees, feel the air, feel the exposure.

No touching.

No cumming.

Just be naked when I am.

And so I did. At the appointed time, I went to our office's tiny ladies washroom and closed and locked the door. Savoring the sensation of being naked, I slowly undressed and laid my clothes aside. Naked, I perched on the tiny counter and spread my knees apart. The cool air was delicious against my skin.

I could feel the hard counter under my legs, the cold glass of the mirror at my shoulder. I was a little bit uncomfortable on the narrow strip of countertop, but as soon as I lifted my knees all other sensation was forgotten.

The urge to touch myself was almost overpowering but I refrained. I dropped my chin to my chest and gazed down at my naked skin, taking in the soft pink, the harsh shadow from the fluorescent light, the hint of moisture from my building arousal. I stayed that way for five full minutes, breathing deeply, until I had to get dressed and go back to my desk.

I could almost feel his touch. If I had stayed there much longer, I might have cum from the sheer sensual decadence of it all... but I didn't.

After all... I had my instructions.