[samos]

Jennifer Hochschild in the Garage

I spent a restless night after narrowly escaping exposure in my office. That was crazy, that was crazy, that was crazy, I kept thinking in an adaptation of Chevy Chase in National Lampoon’s Vacation movie. Tossing and turning all night, I kept thinking about how if I had been seen it would have ruined me. To be caught running around in my panties and nylons in the office! I am a proud, strong businesswoman, not some tramp who can’t control herself. Oh, it just makes me sick to think about it.

But if I’m going to be honest with you, I have to say that I had another little glimmer of a feeling too. Deep down, thinking about being seen excited me. The thought of getting caught running around in my panties and nylons in the office! Now, in my conscious mind I knew I didn’t want to get caught, but the dampness in my panties betrayed some other part of my personality. We women really are as complicated as you men think we are.

I got up early--couldn’t sleep, needless to say--and took a shower. That always helps me clear my head. Then I rubbed in my favorite Estee Lauder body lotion, subtle enough to let men know I’m coming but not overwhelm them. I love the looks they give me when they get just a hint of my fragrance. Next came my black satin panties; they’re from Victoria’s Secret and fit me like a second skin. A matching bra and garter belt followed, then some gossamer thin silky black reinforced heel and toe nylons. Held up by my garter belt, they shift gently against my thighs and calves, making me constantly aware of what I’m wearing. Any men who are real aficionados can see the way they bunch ever so slightly around my knees and ankles. That’s how you know they’re real nylon and not that thicker spandex stuff that make women hate pantyhose. Over my lingerie, I put on my black power suit with a double-breasted jacket and gold buttons and a knee-length skirt with the zipper in the back and tailored to show off my best... asset. Three-inch heels completed the outfit. I checked myself in the mirror for a second and with a mischievous smile on my face knew I was ready to take on the day. All that stuff about getting caught on my knees in my panties and stockings was a million miles away. I was ready to be the commanding business woman today.

As I steered my BMW through the light morning traffic, the feeling of my garters stretching on my thighs caused my mind to wander. That was so exciting last night, I thought. And that orgasm! My God, it was so explosive. So enjoyable. Sitting at a stoplight, I absentmindedly let my fingers drop to my stocking-covered thighs. The silky material felt so sensual, so alluring.

Without thinking about it, I lifted my rear off the seat and hiked my skirt up just a little. I wanted to feel the welts of my stockings, the bumps of my garters. Maybe even stroke the little patch of skin on the inside of my upper thighs between my nylons and my silk panties. I laid my head back for a second as my thoughts turned to Peter Papandropous. Oh Peter, I whispered. Your body’s so athletic. Your hands are so strong. I want you so bad. Take me. I’m yours, take me. My hands wandered a little farther north and I stroked my pussy lightly through my black panties. Oh Peter!, I moaned louder. Oh Peter, I want it so bad!

HONK! I looked up with a start at the truck sitting next to me. Leering down at me was a truck driver! A simple working-class guy with two days of stubble and a stupid trucker’s hat. I looked down and realized that from the cab of his truck he could see my stocking tops, my garters, a hint of my panties, and my finger rubbing away at my clit. I yanked the hem of my skirt down and shot him an evil look. Simpleton, I muttered. He just smiled back at me and laid on that stupid horn again.

The light turned green and I shot across the intersection. A couple minutes later I pulled into my company’s parking garage. What’s wrong with me?, I wondered. How could I let myself get caught like that out in public? I was so humiliated. But at the same time my panties were damp and I had this intense desire to finish what I started. Stop it!, I said to myself out loud. Jennifer! Get hold of yourself. It’s time to be the boss and stop acting like some kind of a tramp. I climbed out of my car, my legs shaking a little, grabbed my Prada leather briefcase, and walked towards the elevators that would take me to my office.

Looking back, I think I may have overcompensated for the night before and my episode with the trucker. My near and real exposures seemed to put a rage in me that I don’t often feel. I spent the day being a total b*tch to everyone around me. Not that that overly concerns me. Anyone working at Lathrop needs to know I’m coming and fear me just a little. I read Machiavelli too. But this day was different.

First thing, I yelled at my secretary, Pauline, for coming in to work ten minutes late. Do you see what time it is, I asked. It’s 8:10, she responded quietly. Eight ten, I said. You’re to be in at 8:00. But Ms. Hochschild, Pauline began, I’m so sorry but my son is sick and I had to... Save it Pauline!, I barked at her. I don’t care about your kid, or what you have to do to take care of him. That’s not my concern. But these last ten minutes? Those _are_ my concern. I own those minutes. I own your time. Do you understand me? Yes ma’am, Pauline said sheepishly. Good. Now get me some coffee. And hurry up. I banged my office door shut in her face to drive the point home. That felt good, I thought to myself.

The coffee was serviceable--you can’t expect much more than that from a simple assistant--and it gave me the energy I needed to run the team meeting. Along with six men, I was the only woman there aside from a lowly secretary who was taking the minutes. Gentlemen, I said, striding to the front of the room. I knew they were staring at my legs and ass in my stockings and tailored skirt, and the thought put a little smile on my face. Who, oh who, would I humiliate today?

When I got to the front of the room I spun on my heel and glared at the half dozen division heads. I can always count on Tim Spencer, the head of payroll and accounting, to be fixated on my legs. Today was no exception. When I made eye contact with him, he turned a suitable shade of red. Mr. Spencer!, I snapped. Yes ma’am? Do you have a problem?, I asked. No ma’am. Then what do you think you’re looking at? Nothing... Then why is your face so red? It is?, he blurted out. It is, I said. Perhaps you need to pay attention to Lathrop’s business, Mr. Spencer... If you want to have a job. Yes ma’am, he murmured.

I turned to face the screen at the front of the room and could barely suppress a broad smile. This is so much fun, I thought. Then I heard it. Or at least I think I did. b*tch, came a low voice. It sounded like Peter Papandropous’s, but I couldn’t be sure. I whipped around. Does anyone have anything to say to me?, I demanded. You, Peter? No ma’am, he replied, but he didn’t look quite as abashed as he should have. I’ll have to deal with him later, I thought to myself and then launched into my presentation. The rest of the meeting was uneventful, except of course when I ordered Tim Spencer to get me a cup of coffee. Get you coffee?, he had sputtered. But one withering look sent him scurrying from the room. Oh yeah, and I also had Peter go get me cream and sugar since Tim forgot it. It’s nice to be the boss.

Word spreads at Lathrop, and everyone in the office seemed to have gotten the message to stay the hell away from me for the rest of the day. And when I did cross paths with someone, it was all they could do to make eye contact. I was in command again. And damn it felt good.

I was on a high the rest of the day and spent most of it catching up on paperwork in my office. I had so much to do that I really focused on my work. About 4:30, when the office was nearly empty, I went to the restroom and when I came back I was greeted by quite a surprise. There on my desk was a folded white blouse, the blouse I had accidentally left in the office the night before! It had a little unsigned note pinned to it:

Missing something?
Maybe you should
be more careful. . .

Pauline!, I yelled. It took a second, but my secretary appeared in the doorway. Yes ma’am, she said. Who put this here? I don’t know, Ms. Hochschild. I stepped away to the supply room and... Pauline, I interrupted, I don’t care where you went. So you didn’t see who left my blouse on my desk? No ma’am. I’m sorry but I wasn’t here. Go home Pauline, I snapped. Just go home. I don’t want to talk to you anymore. Yes ma’am, she said and turned to get her purse and go to the elevators.

I sat down at my desk and absently traced my finger on the blouse on my desk. Maybe you should be more careful... Maybe you should be more careful... Now _that_ was damn good advice. But the blouse turning up on my desk with a mysterious note kept bringing me back to the night before, the night where I would up on my knees in just panties and stockings, furiously rubbing my pussy right here in the office. That was so hot, I kept thinking. Maybe the note was right, maybe I did need to be more careful. But the damp spot in my panties made it clear that being careful wasn’t going to be a priority.

It was hard to stay calm sitting there thinking about my escapades the night before and my plan for this evening, but I managed to wait until 7:00 when you can pretty much count on the building being empty before leaving my office. Just to be sure, I stepped to my office door and called out: Is anyone here? Nothing but an echo came back to me. Hello!!! Nothing. Good, very good.

I grabbed the blouse and my keys off my desk, put them in my bag, and headed to the elevators. I was pretty confident that the building was empty but my plan was still risky, and it frankly was making me horny as hell. Riding down from the 23rd floor, I hit the 20, 15, 10, and 5 buttons on both elevators. Each time my elevator would begin its descent, I would remove an article of clothing. When the elevator stopped, I would exit my car, put my removed piece of clothing in the other elevator and then get back on my car. I’d be nearly naked by the time I got to the garage and at least briefly have no access to my clothes. The plan was ingenious, not too dangerous, and just the thought of it was incredibly arousing.

I took a deep breath, feeling the butterflies in my stomach, and stepped into my elevator. On the way to the twentieth floor, I thought “Here goes nothing,” and unbuttoned my jacket. With no blouse underneath, I was in just my bra when I shrugged the jacket off. Ding! The elevator’s bell sounded terribly loud when I got to the 20th floor, but it was just my nerves talking. Crossing my arms over my breasts, I held my jacket in front of my nearly naked torso and looked out of the open doors. The hallway was well lit but there was no one around. OK, I whispered, here goes, and stepped out of my car to walk over to the other elevator. It was a couple seconds slower than mine but came soon enough. I looked over my shoulder one more time--still no one around, thank God--and tossed my jacket into the other elevator. There, now I’ve done it, I thought. All I have on is my bra and there’s no way I can cover myself even if I need to. Just the thought really got my juices flowing.

I got back in my elevator and began the descent to the 15th floor. Without pause, I undid the back button on my skirt, lowered the zipper, and let the garment fall to my ankles. Oh God, I moaned as I felt the cool air on my thighs. I can’t believe I’m doing this. There was no mirror, but I knew what I looked like: all corporate from the neck up with perfectly done hairdo and makeup, but below that I was in just my black bra and panties, garter belt, stockings, and heels. Oooohhh, I moaned. Images of Peter were coming into my head.

Ding! I was at the 15th floor. I stood away from the open doors and peered out into another well-lit hallway. Again, no one around. OK, I thought. No turning back now. I walked out of my elevator and tried to stand as nonchalantly in the hall as possible--sure, you see a nearly naked woman in your office all the time, right?--as I waited for the other elevator to arrive. It was at least four seconds behind now but still not a problem. When it’s doors finally whooshed open, I threw my skirt in on top of my jacket and turned, head high and chest out to walk back to my elevator.

When my doors closed I took a deep breath and unhooked my bra. A little voice in the back of my head said, This is crazy! Jennifer, what are you doing? But it was easily overwhelmed by my arousal as I slipped the lacy bra from my breasts. My boobs are always pert, but they were nearly rigid from the excitement now. Oh, that feels so good, I whispered as I rubbed and tweaked my nipples. Oh God, I moaned just as the elevator dinged again. I was getting lost in the moment and didn’t even think to step away from the opening doorway this time. Luckily there was no one in the hallway. Without even pausing, I walked proudly out into the hall in just my garter belt, stockings, and panties. A few seconds later the other elevator arrived and I threw the bra in on top of the rest of my clothes. Then I turned and stared down the hallway without even trying to hide. Look at me, I said fairly loudly, I’m stripped to my undies and nylons. Oh God, I’m so humiliated. My panties were so damp.

The doors for my ride to the fifth floor barely closed before I pulled my panties down to my ankles. Oh Peter, I moaned loudly. Look at me. My panties are around my ankles! All I have on are my garters, stockings, and heels. My clit was swollen and I just couldn’t keep my hands off myself anymore. Oh Peter, Peter please take me. Please. I started rubbing my pussy very lightly. Ooooooohhhhh, I moaned. Ding!

Damn it! I really needed release but the elevator had arrived at the fifth floor. I stepped out of my panties and without even looking walked over to the other elevator. It took a full seven seconds for the car to arrive. I didn’t care though. At this point, I don’t think I would have cared if someone had walked right up to me. I was so damn horny. I just stood there in the hall wearing nothing but garters, stockings, and heels, lightly rubbing my pussy. Ooooohhhh... Ooooohhhhh, I kept moaning. It was just so exhilarating standing there like that. When the elevator finally arrived, I tossed my panties on the pile of clothes and went back to my car for the final descent.

I didn’t have much left to take off, so I slipped off my heels. The floor of the elevator felt cool through my wispy thin nylons. Wearing stockings without shoes always excites me just a bit; it just feels a little naughty. Now _this_ was naughty though! Nothing but a garter belt and stockings in an elevator. Not only that, no access to any of my clothes. Ohh, I was so hot. I touched my finger to my clit and it felt like an electric shock went through me. I could cum right now, I thought. I want to cum so bad, I moaned. Please Peter, make me cum.

When the doors slid open on the first floor, I must have been quite a sight. My skin was flushed, I had a hand buried in my pussy, I was moaning for Peter to take me, and I had on nothing but stockings. In my sex-induced haze, I pushed 23 on the panel to send the car back up to my office, grabbed my bag, and stepped out of the car.

My sex was still begging for attention, but for the first time in awhile I realized just what I was doing. I’m a proud businesswoman, I thought, and here I am in just my stockings, frigging myself in public like some kind of animal. And now that I was down in the parking garage I was really in the open. A little shiver went through me at the thought of my exposure, but my arousal was as intense as ever.

Where’s that stupid elevator, I thought, as I shifted my weight from foot to foot, waiting impatiently. I had one hand over my breasts and the other trying to cover my crotch, and I was crouching slightly, praying the elevator would hurry up. Seven seconds, eight seconds, nine seconds... I heard a car start up deep in the bowels of the parking garage. Oh God, I thought, I’m not alone in this building after all. I was really getting worried now.

Ding! Praise God! The elevator finally made it. Slowly the doors slid open and the weight of the world lifted off my shoulders. I’d have my clothes back in a second and no one would be any wiser. I allowed myself to crack a smile at the thought of what I had gotten away with as I stepped towards the elevator. I looked on the floor and my smile vanished. My clothes were gone!

I was frozen standing there in the garage. Here I had stripped myself to my stockings and my clothes were gone. Gone! I gaped into the elevator, but all that was there was a folded piece of paper that I picked up from the car’s floor:

Tsk Tsk!
I told you to be more careful.
This is going to be fun.

Oh God, I moaned to myself. Someone knows... Someone knows! What am I going to do?! I didn’t have much time to think; I suddenly realized that I could hear that car that had started up a minute ago coming towards me. OHHH NOOOO!!!!, I said rather loudly. Still clutching the note in one hand, I sn*tched up my bag with the other and ran as fast as I could behind a nearby trash can.

I don’t think the driver could have seen me, but I’m not sure. I managed to scramble behind the trash can before the car’s headlights swung my way, but it was a small can. I had to get on my knees on the foul garage floor to hide very well and I’m not sure my stocking feet were completely concealed. It seemed like the car slowed as it passed my hiding spot and I may have even heard the driver toot the horn, but that may have been my jagged nerves talking.

Finally the car passed and I had time to assess my situation. All I could think was: This is sooooo humiliating. Stripped to my stockings and garter belt and crouching in the filth behind a garbage can! How could I let this happen?! No matter how bad my brain knew the situation was, my body wouldn’t cooperate. Without thinking, my hand wandered back to my pussy. Oh God, I moaned. Oh Peter, please take me. Please take me right here in public!! I’m such a dirty girl. I need it so bad. Ooooohhhh!!!!

My finger found the magic button. I was so swollen, so horny, so ready to cum. I stroked myself faster and faster, grunting and moaning as I did so. It couldn’t have taken more than sixty seconds before I had the most shattering orgasm imaginable. I fell back on my rear, not caring about the dirty garage floor on my bare skin, and just sat there shuddering. Oh, that was amazing, I moaned.

It hit me then, just where I was and what I had done. Oh God, I’ve got to get out of here. But how am I going to get home? Then I remembered; I had stuck my blouse from the other day in my bag. I grinned at my good fortune and quickly slipped the garment on. It was clingy enough that my nipples showed prominently. (And, to be honest, the silky material felt really good, even though I had just had an amazing climax.) But that was the least of my problems. Looking down, I could see that the view I was offering was obscene: The blouse just reached my waist, leaving my pussy and ass on display. My crotch, framed by my blouse above and stockings below, looked like it was on offer. But it was the best I could do. I had no choice but to go to my car.

As I made my way to my BMW I was thankful that the garage was dark and there appeared to be no one around. Still, I walked low and slow, trying to keep to the shadows. When I finally got to my car I thankfully jumped in. Please God, just let me get home. I’ll never be bad again, I whispered. I started the car and backed out of my slot. Just as I did so, I saw an SUV start up and turn its lights on. Oh my God! Someone must have been in that car. There’s no way they couldn’t have seen me! Even worse, that SUV looked like it belonged to Peter Papandropous. Oh, this couldn’t get much worse. But maybe it was just my feverish mind. The driver pulled ahead of me and proceeded to the toll booth without so much as an acknowledgement.

The windows of the SUV were too heavily tinted, so I couldn’t tell who the driver was. All I know is that he took an awfully long time talking to the attendant. Sitting there under the bright lights by the toll booth in just a shirt and stockings, I felt so naked. Finally the SUV pulled out and I eased my way up to the tollgate. My pass didn’t work and the stupid bar wouldn’t go up! I saw the attendant get down out of his booth and walk towards me. Oh God, I said to myself. Now what am I going to do?! At the last second I remembered my bag in the seat next to me and put it in my lap. I must have looked really strange, my stocking tops on display, my nipples poking against my blouse, and my bag in my lap as I sat there, but what else could I do?

Hello Ms. Hochschild, the attendant said with a huge grin on his face as he leered down at me. Hello Luis, I replied, trying to act as haughty as I usually did. It was hard though, I had to shift uncomfortably in my seat. I was getting horny again. Did you forget anything?, he said with a lewd smile. No, I replied. Are you sure? Maybe I can help you with that bag, he said. No, my pass just doesn’t seem to be working. Oh, that’s OK, Luis said with a wink. The man in the car ahead of you said you might not have your purse--or anything else--with you, so he paid your toll. Oh, I whispered, my face turning beet. Thanks for letting me know. Could you please raise the gate now. Yes ma’am, he said, taking one last look at my stocking thighs as he returned to his booth.

Luis, I called as I paused at the raised gate. Yes ma’am. I have to know, I said. Who was in the car ahead of me? I was just... wondering. He said you might ask, Luis replied. But he didn’t give me a name. He just told me to tell you that you don’t know him yet. But he sure knows you. He said you’d certainly get better... acquainted. I sucked in my breath and my eyes grew wide when Luis said that. Ohhhh, I moaned to myself as I drove out of the garage to go home and end this terrible day. My life, I had a feeling, was about to get much more complicated.