Monday's stress came and went. Another day closer to the weekend.

Last night's freedom, while in the moment, thankfully felt longer than work. Now it's seems the time came and went like the blink of an eye.

You'd rather be home. You'd rather be wet. Edging. Doing fucking ANYTHING besides looking out the window day dreaming. Uncontrollably rubbing -ideally- building up that desire to just flow over the fucking edge.

If only you could do something. Cheating touches don't help. Flexing thighs can stimulate your swelling clit only so much.

It'd be a simpler world if you could just tape your lips up, or lock her away, just for the work day. It wouldn't be fun, but fuck.

Your neediness is intoxicating. The sounds, the feelings, the wetness. It's like watching a cup overflow and not fucking stop. Wetness pulling at your thighs which, mind you, you leave there on purpose. You like it, it's a little reminder, no one else will know anyways.

The day couldn't go by sooner, to get home. To be free. But let's both face it, you love the feeling of this helplessness. This neediness.

You're exactly where you are meant to be. Without this mental foreplay, the edges would come and go so meaninglessly.

Be that good girl, don't damn the time away. Build the edge over a painstakingly long day. Your freedom will come, but there's far more neediness that will build before then.

Embrace it, because you are in a position exactly where you -and I- want you to be in.