| 2nd page of HANNIBAL BREAKS. <Why not take care of it...here?> Her dirty mind wasn’t going anywhere, it seemed. “I have no intention of ‘taking care’ of anything, you pervert,” Clarice steamed. <But it would be so fun!> Clarice would admit to that much. <Just take off your pantyhose...come on!> Damn annoying sex drive, Clarice cursed. But her pantyhose were soaking. It made sense to take them off and put them in her purse. It would be hell to walk in them. Bending over and somehow maneuvering in her seat to where she could remove the nylons, Clarice threw them across her desk and to her purse. Upon settling back into her chair again, she realized what a mistake she had made. This lack of a layer of clothes left her easily accessible to what her body was tempting her to do. “Fuck,” she said, noticing the way her nipples poked through the blouse she wore. Even her somewhat thick bra didn’t stop it. <You might as well accept it,> the thing Clarice felt like calling Satan told her. <You’re hornier than a schoolboy!> “Damn,” she growled, putting her feet with exaggerated point onto her desk again. <Jesus, you’re stalling! Just DO IT! Take a...take a...> “Take a what,” Clarice snapped at herself. “A masturbation break? Not likely,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. Clarice could see Doctor Lecter still staring at her, but it looked like his face had changed from taunting to encouraging. <Now, you didn’t need to put it THAT way. You could have made it nice, like a ‘Hannibal Break.’> Snorting, Clarice made to leave. <No, don’t go! You’re going to go crazy all day, wet like you are.> There was some logic in that. <Just take care of it, Clarice! No one will ever know.> “No one will know?” <No one,> the voice finalized. Clarice sat still for a few moments longer, contemplating. If she took care of it, maybe it’d get out of her system. And it WOULD feel damn good, she didn’t doubt that. Finally, without thinking about it for fear she’d change her mind, Clarice stripped from her blouse and hiked up her skirt, shoes dropping to land on the other side of the desk. Her face was upturned to the ceiling, too mortified to look at herself. A large blush stood out on her face as her fingers crept into the seam of her panties, but a whimper emitted from her throat nonetheless. Christ, she hadn’t done this for twelve years at least. Her left leg drifted dreamily to the side at her probing fingers. Clarice’s head felt filled with blood, tipped upwards as it was, and so she lowered it but kept it even with the wall, still not looking at herself. Doctor Lecter’s expression had without a doubt changed. He looked like he was aroused himself, and she allowed herself to think about what it might be like to fuck him. “Shit,” she gasped when her wet pointer finger lightly grazed her clitoris. Her ass scooted in the seat to allow her fingers more access. “Oh,” she mewed, unconsciously bucking upwards towards her fingers. They moved with frenzied haste now, bringing her closer and closer towards a climax. Clarice had never been this aroused and found it nearly shocking how quick she was moving to an orgasm. Usually it took some time, involving a lot of fondling and thought, but now all it took was Lecter’s damn eyes. She was going to come soon, she could feel it. “Ohh, fuck,” she groaned, lifting her head up to peer at the photo of Doctor Lecter. She wondered again what he’d be like in bed. Previous thoughts had analyzed that he’d be slow and soft, building up to heavy thrusting. Her finger’s eager stretched her lips, yearning to get deeper and deeper until she was finger fucking herself. Clarice could imagine Doctor Lecter pounding away at her, and she shivered, thrusting her fingers just a little bit further up. “OH! You sick fucker...” Clarice had no notion that she was talking to herself, and least of all that it was directed at him. “Fuck me,” she gasped, wrenching almost violently in her seat. Her low and eager moans were turning into aggressive swearing and screeching. “Hannibal...please....faster,” Clarice shrieked mindlessly, hand working unbelievably fast. Clarice let out a peal of moans that sounded suspiciously like laughter, and under her breath she murmured, “You...crazy fucking bastard....Christ! Yeeesss!!” Her orgasm was building up, starting from her toes with such intensity she could barley see the Doctor’s picture in front of her. Her eyes were blurring and her moans were growing louder and louder...until she was screaming. “HANNIBAL!!!” Flailing away, unaware of anything except the fact that she was coming and coming, completely hysterical and screaming at the top of her lungs, and she could see Doctor Lecter looking down at her the whole time. And then, when it was over, she dropped, depleted, in her chair and noted how loud she had been screaming. The phone at her left started ringing, and she jumped for it, knowing without a doubt that they had heard her screaming and might have even heard ‘Hannibal’ being tossed around in the rapture of a climax. “Starling,” she said into the receiver, cursing the heavy breathing she was producing. Turn page to next part of story.... |