After work, Molly went straight to the bedroom and brought herself off.
The subway ride home had been an interesting one; she’d felt like every man on the train was staring at her, as if they all knew exactly what she’d done, what a naughty girl she was. It had fuelled her fantasies (even as she knew it was all in her head) and by the time she got home, she’d reached a peak level of excitement.
Laying on her bed, Molly remembered the look on Luke’s face as she’d disrobed (she had been careful to only slip out of the top of her dress. She didn’t want Luke to see her tattoo and start thinking she was unprofessional.) and the look of excitement as he realised that his fantasies were coming true, that the sex goddess in front of him was going to let him titty-fuck her, let him come all over her face.
All over her face…Molly sat up abruptly, and one hand shot to her face in realisation. That’s why she’d had so much attention on the way home—immediately after his orgasm, Luke had gotten flustered and before Molly could make a move, he’d practically run out of the office. She’d been left alone in her office, face covered in cum. Thoroughly dissatisfied, she’d redressed and left without stopping to look at herself in a mirror, without cleaning herself up…
No wonder she’d received so many stares on the subway.
For some reason, the knowledge that everyone on her train knew what a slut she was stoked Molly’s passion, and she continued playing with herself, imagining all the men from her train going home and doing the same. She pictured all the men from work playing with themselves while thinking about her breasts, her cleavage, imagining lifting up her skirt and plunging their hard cocks deep within her pussy, grabbing her boobs and fucking her ass…
Molly arched her back as she came, images of strangers and friends taking her from behind filling her mind. She lay on her bed panting, her mind blissfully blank, and it was several minutes later that she realised what she’d been thinking about.
That was new. She’d never had such a strong fantasy play out in her head, and she’d certainly never had any desire to try anal sex before. A few of her boyfriends had asked, but a combination of self-consciousness about the size of her butt and general ickiness about the idea had caused her to say no.
But as she’d played with herself, she knew what it was that had really pushed her over the edge. The idea of letting someone enter her back door was suddenly strangely exciting. Perhaps this Saturday, she’d let John…but of course, that meant (even more than other positions) that he would see her tattoo, which she was sure he wouldn’t appreciate the same way she did.
Molly removed her clothes, and walked over to her full-length mirror to admire her tattoo once more. It was really starting to grow on her. She hadn’t been sure if she liked it at first, but the longer she looked at it, the more she appreciated the artistry—the smooth, neat lines, the vibrant colours…she was almost disappointed that it was the sort of thing that she had to keep secret. If John saw it, he’d be furious and confused, and showing it off at work would kill any chance she had at being taken seriously around the office…it was a real pity.
She was about to change into her gym clothes and head off for a work-out when she noticed something else in the mirror. Her ass had…it seemed to have grown, somehow. It was fuller, rounder. She turned to the side, and could see it jutting out, as if a perfect semicircle had started to form at the top of her legs.
The change must have been the result of her new work-out routine, Molly realised, (the new routine being, of course, working out at all) but she was amazed that it was paying off so quickly. She stroked it, enjoying the feel, the firmness. Her ass was a third bigger than it had been a week ago, and it felt sensational to the touch.
Molly stared at the mirror for a few more minutes, checking herself out, before she shook her head, cleaned herself off and left for the gym. Tonight, at least, the guys would have a slightly better view to stare at.
The weekend came all too quickly for Molly. The rest of her work week had followed the same pattern as Monday and Tuesday—each day, she’d gone into work, wearing more and more outrageous outfits. There hadn’t been any objections—the closest she’d come was on Friday, when her boss had asked her into his office, but before he could properly start she’d distracted him.
“What do you think of this dress?” she’d asked, and done a little twirl to show it off. The dress was so short that a twirl was all that was needed to display her panties (and her new, magnificent ass) and Molly’s boss had been tongue-tied for the rest of their meeting.
Her nodding probably hadn’t helped—every time her boss said anything, she’d agreed vigorously, causing her breasts to noticeably jiggle. At first she’d just been showing how much she agreed with everything her boss said (he’d been so right about everything lately)—the jiggling side-effects were just an added bonus.
She hadn’t worn a bra all week—on Wednesday, her dress had been much less low-cut than the one she’d worn the day before (“and if I got away withthat dress without a bra…” she’d reasoned) but Molly was starting to realise that she just didn’t need one.
Luke had started staying late at work with her every night. At first she’d felt guilty, like she was cheating on John, but she’d soon realised that she wasn’t technically cheating. She never had sex with him—he never even saw her naked below the waist. It wasn’t cheating, it was just two attractive young people enjoying her boobs. And after all, who has the rights to stop a woman enjoying her own boobs, and inviting a friend to do the same?
She wasn’t a slut, she told herself, even as she unknowingly mouthed the word to herself. Slut. Slut. Big butt slut.
She was having no trouble sticking to her workout program, and it was yielding amazing results. All she did was run on the treadmill for a few hours each night, but so far it had caused her to lose weight, feel full of energy all the time, increase her sex drive, and (somehow) double the size of her ass. If Molly had tried to wear a bra, she would have noticed that her breasts had been growing as well—she’d already spotted that they were perkier and bouncier than they’d ever been before, and sat on her chest proudly, without needing support of any kind.
Of course, some of the changes that her workout had provided were a bit inconvenient. Her new-found energy meant that whenever she wasn’t at work or working out, she just bounced around her apartment, restless and uneasy. She’d found that cleaning kept her mind and body occupied, but after a few hours she’d scrubbed every surface until her entire apartment gleamed. The idea of going around to John’s apartment and cleaning that up came into her head, briefly, but she knew that she’d fall victim to her own libido and he’d see her gorgeous new tattoo.
Her libido was another issue—as she lost weight in some areas and gained it in others, she found herself being turned on more and more, by every little thing. It was rare for her to go a few minutes without a new sexual fantasy drifting through her mind. At home, when she wasn’t working out or cleaning she would lay in her bed, her hand between her legs, and fantasize about all the men at the gym spanking her, degrading her, using her body, taking her from behind.
The anal fixation was new as well. She couldn’t work out if it was a side-effect of her new rear, but now when she played with herself, Molly’s thoughts inevitably strayed towards anal play—men fucking her new, glorious ass, or spanking her, or…hell, using it to store pens. She just needed to think of anything to do with her ass and she was climaxing within minutes.
At work, it had grown chronic. The constant stream of men flowing in and out of her office, checking her out, flirting with her and loving that she flirted back…every time a man looked at her body it sent jolts straight to her pussy, and she’d taken to visiting the restroom several times a day just to stop herself from jumping one of them. Her nightly breast-play with Luke served as some relief, but it was getting harder and harder to stop herself from offering up the rest of her body for his pleasure, to allowing him access to her behind…
But the two changes to her body that alarmed her the most (she really must see a doctor about that, she’d thought, before her mind drifted into images of her as a nurse, a nurse working under a big strong doctor, who would invite her into his office and take her temperature rectally…) were her hips and her legs.
Something had happened to Molly’s hips—she found herself unable to walk without swaying them back and forth like a model on a catwalk. It was, she reasoned, because her body spent so much time running, or possibly a side-effect of the sudden growth of her ass…whatever the cause, it was starting to get inconvenient.
She couldn’t even walk around the office without mincing like a little sex-kitten. It added to the excessive male attention she was getting, which caused her juices to start flowing, which inspired her to walk to the restroom and get herself off. (and, in what was becoming a vicious circle, her walk back took her right across the office once more. By the time she sat back at her desk, Molly was already worked up again.)
But the most inconvenient of all her sudden changes was in her legs—all of her working out seemed to have tightened her tendons, and except for when she was running on the treadmill, Molly found walking painful without some kind of high heel. She could survive it long enough to have a shower, but every other minute of the day, even when she was just walking naked around her apartment, Molly had started to wear heels.
On Thursday night, she’d realised that she had worn her only set of heels two days in a row (completely unprofessional—as a girl who wanted to get ahead, she couldn’t afford such things) and had gone shopping for more. At first she’d only been planning to get a few new pairs, and maybe some new corporate outfits as well—something professional that she could wear without revealing her tattoo…and a new gym outfit, too.
When she’d seen a revealing dress that she loved, she’d reasoned that it could just be for the weekends, that it wasn’t something she’d wear to work…and of course she had to get those matching heels, even if they were a few inches higher than one would typically wear at the office…and if she got those heels, she had to get the dress she’d seen earlier but rejected because she didn’t own the shoes for it…
Molly went home that night with ten new outfits, none of them suitable for work.
Waking up on Friday morning, Molly had looked at her wardrobe and wondered what she had been thinking. On the brink of getting mad at herself, she just closed her eyes and let the rain in—she knew that she could find some way of finding the positive in this situation.
A few minutes later, Molly opened her eyes and picked out the most conservative new dress that she’d bought. Even if her choice had been the most professional dress ever made, her walk would have destroyed the image immediately. Every time she swayed across a room she looked like sex on legs, and she was starting to feel like it as well.
Work was fun that day. When she’d seen the reaction Luke had to her new ensemble, she knew she couldn’t wait until work was finished to let him get some release, that would just be cruel. The two of them had emerged from the restrooms at 9:30am, sweaty and sticky—the room had been slightly too small for their usual titty-fuck, and so Molly had resorted to giving Luke a blow job. Topless, of course—it wasn’t cheating if it was topless, she told herself. Or something like that. The lines were starting to get blurry.
After work, Molly was delighted to discover that Luke was up for a second round. (it was actually his third for the day; he’d used his lunch break to get himself off once more, but he saw no reason to inform Molly of that fact. No need to dissuade her of the idea that it was her role to get him off.)
This time, he spent a few minutes sucking on her nipples, getting her so worked up that for the first time, she played with herself as he slid between her breasts, bringing herself to orgasm at the same time as Luke came on her face.
She insisted on giving him another blow job before they left for the weekend.
Saturday came far too quickly, and she knew she couldn’t cancel on John again. He’d called her three times throughout the week, and she’d given a different excuse each time. It wasn’t fair to him. Besides, it had been two weeks since she’d been fucked, and she knew she couldn’t hold out for another week. If she didn’t make love to John, she’d finally snap, and give herself to Luke, or one of her work colleagues, or one of the men at the gym, or a stranger on the subway…
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