Disclaimer:

I know this isn't as wild as a lot of the things I read on here, but I didn't know who else to share this with.

Throwaway account for obvious reasons.

Background:

I work in an office of c.300 people in a the West Midlands, UK. It's a fairly typical office layout; the senior management have their own offices but the vast majority of us work on an open floor plan across two floors of office space. Each floor has its own toilets; the ladies is on my floor and the gents is on the floor above.

It's very convenient for me, but frustrating for my female colleagues that work in the other floor, and vice-versa for the men in mine.

Confession time:

My desk is directly opposite the door to the staircase, so whenever women from upstairs come to use the toilet on our floor I see them walk past. Sometimes they meander between the desks chatting with colleagues on the way, other times they walk purposefully and directly to the stalls. I know I shouldn't, and I know it is the most natural thing in the world, but when I see the toilet door swing closed behind them I can't help but picture them. I imagine what type of panties they are wearing. I try to picture them there; I think about what their labia look like, whether they keep some hair or are smooth all over. I imagine the sensation of relief they must be experiencing.

It started as a curiosity and became an obsession. I consider myself to be straight for the most part, but I don't get the same thrill watching the men head upstairs, perhaps because the gents are so far away. Perhaps because I find it harder to relate to them - I use the ladies toilets several times a day; I know what the cold plastic seat feels like, I know what the inside of the stall looks like. A few months ago I started drinking a lot more water than I used to so that I could spend more time in the ladies.

Watching from my desk wasn't enough anymore. I bought one of those massive Stanley cups I had been seeing online all the time and kept it full. I was in the toilet at least 6 times a day.

Even when I was desperate I would wait until I had seen someone else go in first; I didn't want to waste a trip and spend it alone. There were 3 stalls in the tollet, each made of flimsy plastic sheets with a c.30cm gap above the floor, and the same below the ceiling. I would always make sure that I would take the stall next to whoever was in there. Or, on the rare occasion that I had to select first ! would take the middle stall.

I would sit there, almost holding my breath. I would listen for the sound of a skirt being pulled up, or trouser being unfastened and slid down. I could feel the excitement build inside me and a warmth start to grow between my legs when I heard a pair of panties being pulled down and I knew that less than a metre away, separated by nothing more than some thin plastic, a lady whose name I might not even know had her bare vagina on show.

I would stay absolutely silent until I heard their stream hit the bowl and it's like I could feel this tangible shared relief. Obviously, I sometimes heard other things in there too, but that didn't bother me too much.

Yesterday was no different to any other day. At about 1030 I went to pee for the second time that morning. I followed in a woman around my age wearing leggings that clung to her legs and showed no visible pants line. I heard them being pulled down her thighs and I could imagine them bunching at her knees when I heard her start to go.

The knowledge that her naked pussy was just feet from me was too much. I could feel my clit pulsing and I started to rub myself. I stopped when her flow stopped, because I was nervous that she might hear my wet cunt in the quietness of the room. I waited until she left and I was alone and rubbed my needy clit until I came. Honestly, I think it took me about 30 seconds, that's it. I held my breath so that I wouldn't moan when I climaxed. Then I straightened myself up, washed my hands and went back to my desk and had to pretend like nothing had happened!