This story has been percolating in the abyss of my external hard drive for at least a year now… Mostly because I’d lost the cord for my external hard drive for a while and then forgot that the story existed. So, I can’t remember now what inspired it…
It may even have been a Masturbation Monday prompt from a time before this blog existed. But the fact stands that the coffee maker in my office genuinely runs at a frequency that is freakishly close to those that come from a Bellesa vibrator*. So, one day when I was standing there, waiting for my coffee to brew, this flash of a sassy little scene came to me…
I even timed the brewing sequence for added authenticity. ?
*I’m just plugging this because they’re my homies and I love my black Aurora. I don’t get any affiliate kickbacks for shouting out the fam. ?
Last week, Bossman Bruce got one of those fancy coffee makers for the office. You know, the ones with the little pods that make one perfect cup at a time? We all gathered in the lunchroom when Bruce set our shiny new toy up on the counter and made a cupful of the inaugural brew.
As the machine whirred to life, my coworker Tracy leaned in and whispered, “It kind of sounds like my vibrator.”
I stifled a snicker. She wasn’t wrong.
Yesterday, I used the machine for the first time. I selected a copper-coloured pod at random from the rainbow of coffee flavours in the tin. (I think that one was meant to be hazelnutty, but I can’t be certain because I’m not enough of a connoisseur to read Faux-Italian. And they all kind of taste the same to me.)
Leaning against the counter while the little robotic barista did her thing, I couldn’t help but remember what Tracy had said.
It really does sound like a vibrator.
I’m not sure if it’s a spring fever thing or whatever the planets might be doing or maybe I’m just ovulating? But I’ve been pretty horned up lately. And not in the “I really need to get laid” kind of way. More of the “I just really want to break down all my barriers by having as many orgasms as I can muster in a short amount of time” kind of way.
As a result, my vibrator and I have been spending even more time together than usual. Come to think of it, I can’t remember the last time I went a day without reaching into that old bedside table drawer at least once, if not two or three times. And not that I’m trying one way or the other, but the habit has been getting harder and harder to shake.
So much so that even just hearing that comparable sound from the coffee machine was enough to stir up a noteworthy hum between my legs. And I don’t think it was just the physical vibrations from the machine running from the counter pressing into my tailbone as I leaned into it.
Standing there, I squeezed my thighs together; pacing around then while I waited for it to brew. I resisted the mild urge to shove a hand down my pants right then and there in the middle of the lunch room.
But I got to thinking…
Today I have come prepared for a little self-administered challenge.
After I was done with it last night, I cleaned and stowed my vibrator into the red silk pouch I like to keep it in and put it straight into my purse.
Standing in the elevator on the way up to my office’s floor now, I’m elbow-deep in my handbag, thumbing the edge of the little silk satchel at the bottom.
See, today, I’ve decided that I’m going to race the coffee machine to completion.
Can I get myself off before that mug is full?
We’re about to find out.
I skipped my morning masturbation session and listened to a steamy erotica podcast on the drive here to get myself even more in the mood. Long sexy story short, it’s proven an effective strategy. I’ve got a nice low hum singing into the seam of my fitted slacks right now.
The elevator doors sigh open and invite me into the sterile, blank hallway lit by strip after strip of fluorescent bulbs that glow with the faintest sickly green. My office is around the corner at the very end of the hall.
I swipe my keycard and pass through the heavy glass door. A deathly quiet hangs in the spaces between the cubicles.
Perfect. Just as I’d expected – I’m the only one here.
I left home earlier than usual to ensure that I’d have a few minutes alone. Not too early though, because the added thrill of maybe being caught will only help my case.
Walking into the office with this secret in my bag, I’m all lit up by the time I drop most of my things down at my desk. I pluck the red silk pouch from my bag and head down the hall.
As I step into the lunch room, I spot her in all her shining glory—the buzzing brew mistress who will give me that extra boost that I crave this morning.
I pause in the doorframe for a second with ears piqued, searching for any sign of possible intruders.
We’re still safe.
I stride across the room to get a little closer. “Look at you…” I whisper as I run a finger down the machine’s sleek facade. “Are you ready to help me have a little fun today?”
I select a pod from the tin next to the machine—a dark purple one this time—and nestle it into place with ritualistic precision.
I have exactly 96 seconds to make this happen. I know this because I timed her when I made my second cup yesterday.
I free my vibrator from the red silk bag, tug the zipper on my fly, and nestle the vibe into my pants, lining its natural curve up to mine. I rarely masturbate standing up, but the device hugs my curve in a way that will work just right.
Everything is ready to go. I just need to press the buttons and…
We’re off to the races.
The warm-up whir of the coffee machine as it heats the water runs for about 17 seconds. By the time it shifts gears to begin the brewing, its frequencies line up with the soft buzz stifled between my legs to a perfect blend. I’m holding the vibe in place with one hand resting over my pants; rocking, grinding into it, pressing my hips toward the counter in front of me. Just fucking this vibrator like I really mean it, you know?
All I can hear now are the vibrating harmonies. They envelop me, taking me away from the lunchroom for a moment. I risk shutting my eyes. The hum of the coffee machine is increasing in frequency and volume…
Somewhere around 86 seconds, the sounds coming from the coffee maker ramp up even higher. Time is nearly up. She’s almost done. And so now am I. I know I only have 10 seconds left so I make a mad dash towards the finish line. The knuckles of my free hand are white with strain, gripping the counter’s edge. I clench my fingers around the curve of the vibe in my pants and clamp my inner walls around the building orgasm.
The pressure between my legs rises to that point of no return as the machine approaches her end. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee swirls around me, inviting everything in me to open as I swim through the orgasm weaving through me. Fuck, my right leg is twitching now too.
It was far from the most powerful release I’ve ever experienced, but right now, I can’t think of many that have been quite this rewarding.
I bite down on my lip and punch lightly at the counter’s edge to choke down my groans of smug satisfaction. The last of the coffee squeezes from the pod, sputtering into my mug as I squeeze the last vestiges of my orgasm from my core.
I turn around and lean my butt into the counter’s edge to catch my breath. I withdraw the vibrator from the crotch of my pants and turn it off, stowing it in my back pocket for now. I’ll clean it later.
Right now, I want to enjoy this moment.
I zip up my pants and scoop my cup of coffee up from the machine. I caress the heated porcelain between two hands, rolling it back and forth in my palms. My pussy clenches again just as the hot liquid hits my tongue and I smile into the mug.
While I’m washing the last of my cheeky sassturbation session down with another sip, Bruce walks in. We exchange standard hazy morning smiles as he stows his bagged lunch in the fridge.
“It’s pretty good, right?” he says, nodding to the coffee in my hands.
“You know, Bruce,” I say, “it might be the best damn cup of coffee I’ve ever had in this office.”
For more of what’s heating up this week in Smutlandia, stroke this little purple logo right here.