The sun slipped through the window’s curtains, crept across the room, and settled upon the bed. Lying beneath the sheets, shifting as the light moved over her face, Coco Pommel groaned lightly. One cyan eye cracked open briefly, before the drowsy mare rolled away from the encroaching day. Turning to her side, peeking at the clock, she froze.
Blinking rapidly, praying that she was hallucinating, the timepiece read 8:00 AM. In a panic, her brain roared into high gear, realizing that something had gone dreadfully wrong. She could have sworn that she’d set an alarm for herself the night prior. With less than half an hour to prepare and arrive at work, she scrambled out of bed.
Flinging herself off the mattress, in a panic, Coco frantically scampered about her bedroom. Clothes, yes, she’d definitely need clothes. Rushing to her dresser, pulling open one of the smaller top drawers, a loud groan escaped her. Somehow, probably due to her excessive hours at work, she’d forgotten to do laundry. Not a single clean undergarment awaited her, within the confines of her bureau.
Knitting her brow, not to be deterred, she continued on her endeavor. Even if she had to go sans-panties, she’d be fine. The air was just starting to cool for the fall, so she wouldn’t likely be that uncomfortable. Her bust, a modest C cup, wouldn’t be too terribly noticeable without a brassiere, so she considered herself lucky in that regard. Selecting a violet skirt and simple white button up top, she ran off to the bathroom.
Hair, yes. Teeth, yes. A shower...As unfortunate as it was, she’d have to forego a shower, but that didn’t mean she had to look terrible. Slipping her arms into the shirt, she buttoned it over her chest. Attempting to ignore the sensation of the cloth over her nipples, she stepped into the skirt and hauled it up her legs. The garment was long enough that nobody should notice her distinct lack of panties, even if the crisp air would be a persistent reminder. Lastly, she donned a pair of black stockings, dragging them up her legs.
Hastily brushing her mane and straightening her outfit, she gave herself a once over. Coco smiled, finding her appearance surprisingly charming. Despite her frenzied preparations, she actually looked rather cute. Sure, she was no bombshell model, though she held a quaint charm. Briskly moving through her apartment, taking a moment to step into her shoes by the door, she departed for work.
She had been employed by Suri Polomare several months ago, just after she’d graduated, though the job was absolutely hellacious. Not only did the designer work her to the bone, oftentimes keeping her later than her designated shifts, but she’d had an increasing amount duties heaped on her plate. Still, it paid relatively well and gave her plenty of experience.
More and more often, Coco found herself producing entire outfits, from conception to finished product, yet she was never credited. She told herself that it was all part of the gig, that other ponies likely went through the same ordeal, although she was beginning to become a bit put off by the grueling treatment. If a better opportunity presented itself, she’d certainly consider leaving Suri; but she was stuck with her current position, for the time being.
A stiff breeze blasted the young mare from behind, causing a chill to bolt up her spine. On instinct, she reached for her skirt, pinning the article to her thighs, lest she expose herself fo anyone looking in her direction. Trotting along, adjusting her garment, she surveyed her surroundings. A few mares and stallions walked along, minding their own business, woefully ignorant to the would-be show they’d almost missed.
Continuing on her way, Coco’s thoughts began to wander. What would those stallions and mares have done, had her bare ass been revealed. Surely, she’d be affixed with looks of contempt or perhaps lustful glances. Sweet Celestia! What if someone had taken a picture of her in a moment of weakness like that?!
Her mind raced, as she glanced about. She’d heard tales depraved ponies clandestinely snapping pictures of mares’ panties before, though she didn’t think it had happened to her before. She gulped, realizing that if somebody had tried that with her, on that day, they’d get much more than an image of her undergarments.
As off putting as the notions were, of inadvertently revealing her body or having someone stealthily photograph her perfectly trim marehood, she found her pulse quickening. An odd warmth spread to her loins, as her mind went into a tailspin around the idea of others gazing at her naked flesh. To be sure, there weren't any ponies who got off to something as absurd as showing themselves off in public - were there?
Briskly strolling along, lost to her own thoughts, Coco almost walked right by her employer’s building. Turning, rushing up the stairs, she headed to Suri’s studio. The fashionista had the entire third floor for the business, with miniaturized operations for production, design, and sales. While they only employed roughly twenty ponies, they stayed fairly busy. Hiking up the stairs, unwilling to wait for the elevator, she hoped she wasn’t going to be late.
Taking a moment to collect herself, she walked into the lobby. Glancing up at the clock, checking the time, she breathed a sigh of relief. She’d made it just before her shift was supposed to start, even if she already felt exhausted. Making her way to her desk, passing through the production department, she fought to remember what she had scheduled for the day.
Seating herself, Coco glimpsed at her calendar. A soft groan escaped her, as she realized she had sales orders to process. Booting up her computer, she opened her email and invoice software. Unfortunately, her current endeavors were going to be painfully meticulous and boring, more than likely meaning she’d be kept at her desk all day.
To make matters worse, her cubicle was located towards the back of the building, where the circulation of air was less than adequate. In spite of it being fall, her work area was relatively warm and stagnant. Taking a momentary break from typing away, she fanned the front of her blouse, unwittingly undoing the top button. As concentrated as she was, the soft sound of a nearby tapping caused her to start.
Turning slightly, she glanced over to see who had disrupted her daze. Standing in the alleyway was one of the interns, a relatively young unicorn. Holding a small bundle of papers in his hand, he peered down at her impassively, though that wasn’t what caught her attention. The stallion was looking right at her, but not her face - no, his eyes were settled just a fraction lower.
Demurely holding a hand to her bosom, realizing her blouse was open slightly, Coco’s cheeks went rosey. It was a precarious situation, to be sure, and she was left with a tough decision to make. Either she let it be known that she was flustered, having unintentionally exposed a bit of her skin, or she play it off and pretend not to notice. Turning to fully face him, she made her decision.
Holding her hand out, expecting him to pass her the paperwork, Coco expectantly looked up at him. As soon as she’d turned, his attention shifted to her face, though bore an odd look. If she had to pick a word to describe it, she would have called it nervous. She could only assume it was because he’d been caught ogling her chest, which sparked an outlandish idea.
Leaning forward, giving the young stallion a perfect view of her cleavage, she smiled at him. “Thanks,” she murmured, her voice nearly a whisper, as she retrieved the delivery from his clammy hand.
No soon had the unicorn accomplished his task, than he fled. While he hadn’t said anything, his words had spoken for him. Coco noticed him blush heavily, when he peered down at her breasts, but that wasn’t all. At his groin, lurking beneath his pants, something had twitched, just prior to his escape.
Spinning back to her computer, Coco sat in silence. Her rock hard nipples were clearly visible beneath her top and her heart was pounding away in her chest, yet neither of those were what had her rapt attention. Her hand crept downward, over her bosoms, across her abdomen, and into her skirt. Dancing over the moist, hot flesh at her loins, a bolt of pleasure shot through her.
Her thoughts were a maelstrom, as she fought to understand what had happened. Was it possible that she’d gotten the poor intern excited? Surely, he couldn’t have gotten worked up over seeing just a bit of cleavage - could he? Moreover, why was she so aroused herself. Sweet Celestia, she hadn’t been that wet in ages, let alone at work!
Fanning her shirt, fighting to stave off the overwhelming notions accosting her, another button worked itself loose; however, this time, she noticed it. Peeking down, spying her nearly half uncovered rack, she swallowed hard. Reaching upward, to refasten her shirt, she paused. It couldn’t really hurt to leave it undone - could it? Shrugging to herself, deciding that she’d be fine, Coco got back to work.
Manually inputting orders, working her way through the stack of mail, she did her best to focus on the endeavor. Slogging through the tedious labor, the nagging concept of the intern looking at her wouldn’t leave her be. The string of thought wound on, leading to her wondering if others ever viewed her with amorous intent. Groaning, she closed her eyes and shook her head. She had to do something to dispel those contemptible, distracting thoughts!
Frustratedly, she fully unbuttoned her blouse, allowing the garment to hang open precariously, while she slumped back into her chair with a sigh. Impulsively, Coco peered down at her bust. Looking over her shoulder, into the vacant hallway, she felt sweat bead on her brow. She was almost topless, in her cubicle, on the clock; what would someone say if they caught her in such a state?
Fidgeting, grappling with the juxtaposition of infuriatingly confusing arousal and fear, she sunk her fingers into the arms of her chair. Closing her eyes, imagining the intern haplessly strolling by, her hands shot to her top; pulling it open, fully unveiling her perky tits, she whimpered slightly, waiting for something, anything to happen. Beneath her skirt, her marehood clenched upon itself at the imagined display.
Coco’s eyes flew open, when she realized what she was doing. Closing her shirt over her chest, she turned back towards her station. If she’d been caught by somebody, it would not have been a pretty scene. Being called into Suri’s office and having to explain herself, would be a nightmare - especially if her boss didn’t believe any explanation she gave.
She paused, rolling the thought around for a moment. Even if somebody had seen her practically naked, Suri would have to trust their word on the matter. Unlike herself, most of the employees at the studio only worked part-time, nor were they typically entrusted with larger projects like she was. If anything, her word was worth far more than theirs.
Emboldened, smiling smugly to herself, Coco reached down and casually unzipped the side of her skirt. No, if her coworkers did happen across her emancipated form, she had more than enough ground to protect herself. Hell, if push came to shove, she could say she was trying to concoct an avant-garde piece for an upcoming show.
Rocking back in her seat, squirming in place, she pulled the article down her legs and over her feet. Standing slightly, allowing her to place the skirt on her seat, she eased herself back down and rolled her chair under the desk. Humming to herself, getting back to work, she felt positively liberated.
Should someone come by, which was relatively rare for her days of processing orders, she’d probably hear them and have enough time to quickly fasten her top - probably. Like it or not, there was an undeniable thrill to the absurd situation. Still, regardless of basking in the peculiarities of her morning, she had to earn her paycheck.
Slowly but surely, Coco whittled away at the imposing stack of papers sat beside her. Minutes turned to over an hour and, stifling a yawn, she automatically reached for her nearby mug. She brought the empty vessel to her lips, hoping her coffee would drive off her weariness. Sipping at nothingness, she scrunched her snout and looked downward.
Sweet Celestia! Maybe that’s why she’d been feeling so strange! Coffee! Yes! Perhaps a mug of the wonderful beverage would help quell the odd ideas swirling about inside her head. Latching onto the notion, pushing herself up, Coco buttoned up her blouse and started towards the break room.
Weaving through the cubicles, navigating her way towards her much needed java, she marched her way through the office. A sudden blast of cool air, likely caused by a closing door or window, sent a shiver up her spine. Slowing, feeling a singular chill on her upper legs, she peeked down. She froze, stopping dead, as she looked upon her lower half.
In her haste to get some caffeine, she’d left her skirt in her chair. Peering at her bare crotch, noting the damp fur on her inner thighs, she hastily did an about-face to retreat to her desk, but something made her stop. She’d made it more than half way there, past the most densely populated part of the agency, so the rest should be easy.
Swallowing hard, she sluggishly turned around and took a step, followed by a second and third, until she was leisurely strolling to the lounge. Keeping her eyes on the floor, having memorized the route by heart, Coco stayed the course. Only glancing towards the occasional odd noise, she steadily proceeded onward, until she reached her destination.
Passing the closed door of the design department, she swung a left and entered the break room. Hastily scanning the area, ensuring she was alone, she walked over to the streaming pot of coffee on the counter. Pouring herself a cup of joe, she stared into the dark liquid. It was odd; even though nobody was present, a strange disappointment swept over her. If anyone had been there, she would have scurried back to her post, yet that wasn’t the case.
With no immediate threat of being caught, she reclined against the refrigerator and sipped her drink. Hot and refreshing, the beverage warmed her interior. Hearing footsteps, she looked up, just as one of her coworkers passed the open doorway. Her heart skipped a beat, her nipples went erect, and her marehood angrily seized.
Watching the stallion stroll by, shakily holding her mug, Coco felt weak in the knees. The uncontested thrill of nearly being discovered, with her nethers fully exposed, nearly made her lightheaded. Never in all her years had she experienced anything as maddeningly exciting before! Sadly, her fellow employee walked by without noticing her, though it set her mind working.
Like it or not, her reaction to the mere thought of being found in her current state, undressed for all to see, was undeniably arousing. She couldn’t remember being that worked up before, knowing that literally anyone could unabashedly gaze upon her neatly trimmed bush and meaty lower lips. Subconsciously rubbing her thighs together, inadvertently stimulating herself further, she absentmindedly wandered in the direction of her cubicle.
Meandering to her work space, vacantly hopping into her chair, Coco rested her hands on the keyboard. Looking to the dimly glowing screen, a flashing icon drew her attention. Opening her email, cocking her head, she checked the message; it was from Suri. Apparently, her employer had asked for a file from one of their high-value clients ASAP.
Unfortunately, she knew what the correspondence meant. The request was essentially a subtle demand, requiring her to respond immediately. Suri barely noticed her, oftentimes ignoring her outright, unless she needed something. As unfortunate as it was, if she didn’t deliver the paperwork, she’d likely be chewed out in short order.
Automatically retrieving the file, printing out the requested document, she pulled her skirt from beneath herself. Scrunching her snout, her disdain for the condescending designer mounted. Kicking her legs out, slipping one leg into the article, her motions faltered. If her boss needed the paper record, she’d have to deliver it. If she had to deliver it, that meant…
Smoothly standing, setting her skirt over the back of her seat, her hands drifted to her top. With trembling fingers, she undid one button of her blouse after the other, until the cloth hung openly over her chest. Slipping one arm out of the garment, then the other, she placed it atop her only other piece of clothing.
Fully nude, save for her heels and stockings, she took a breath to steady herself. Inhaling deeply, holding it for a moment, she exhaled. Out with the old, in with the new; the seemingly minuscule act added an additional layer to her shifting mindset. Leaning over, she neatly folded the order, slid it into an envelope, and boldly stepped out of her cubbyhole.
Unlike her trip to the lounge, there was a reserved confidence in her stride. Since she had little choice in making a special trip to Suri’s office, she was going to do it on her terms. The dash of defiance mingled with the growing flames of her exhibitionistic wonts. The resulting inferno filled her with a brazen energy she didn’t know was possible.
As much as Coco hated to admit it, her feelings and thoughts left little doubt. Some part of her wanted to be seen, to be caught flaunting her body. Whether the urges had always been there, or if it was some budding development, she couldn’t say, yet she was compelled by them. Uncouth or not, there was no denying how she felt.
Her entire life, ever since she was a filly, she’d always been relatively soft spoken, acquiescing to the will of others, but the exhilaration of the day had broken something within her. Like a butterfly freeing itself from a cocoon, the liberation of it all was beyond reproach. Her body was hers alone, and her state of undress was a testament to her newfound sovereignty of self.
Clasping the file to her chest, the only sound she made was the steady Click Click Click of her heels against the polished marble floor. The steady noise echoed through the office, a subtle testament to her audacious act. If only for herself, the sound was a reminder that, for the first time in recent memory, she was in total control.
Past the various cubicles, down corridors, and into the design department Coco virtually strutted. A literal mare on a mission, she continued onward, immune to anything life may throw at her. She couldn’t be sure how many of her coworkers she passed, though she definitely sauntered by a few; there was only one she directly crossed paths with, but the encounter was priceless.
Standing by a copying machine, the intern looked up at her and did a double-take; his mouth agape, noting her disrobed state. His reaction, while amusing, poured fuel on the fire. Shooting him a wink, as she went to pass him, Coco ran one hand over her waist, up her abdomen, and ultimately cupped her right tit. The poor guy’s jaw flapped uselessly, as she cruised by, though she did notice a particularly prominent bulge growing at his crotch.
In a matter of seconds, she’d reached her destination. Standing before the imposing door of her employer’s office, she reached for the knob. Letting herself in, she moved to the ornate mahogany desk at the room’s center. Marching forward, setting the order on the polished furniture’s surface, she peered down at the orchid mare seated before her.
“Here,” Coco murmured. Cocking her hips, she crossed her arms below her bust and silently awaited any sort of reply or acknowledgement.
“That will be all for now,” Suri dismissively grunted, shooing her employee away, without so much as looking up.
Coco quietly huffed, flipping her hair as she departed. She could scarcely believe the designer hadn’t even taken note of her appearance. Frustrated, heading back to her station, something took her attention. Presumably tasked with making promotional materials, the intern had remained at the industrial printer, shuffling and clipping papers together.
Noticing movement, he looked in her direction and went rigid. Petrified, his eyes tracked her, dancing over her frame. His gaze wandered across her body, drinking in her every luscious curve and detail. Keeping her pace, she moved by him, only slowing when she reached the doorway leading to the hall.
Peering over her shoulder, ensuring she had his rapt attention, a devilish smirk split Coco’s face. Reaching back, taking one pillowy cheek of her rump in each hand, she leaned forward slightly. Pulling her buns apart, giving him a picturesque view of her glistening sex and taut pucker, the faintest giggle escaped her, before she scampered away.
Skipping to her work space, her breasts swaying with her movements, she plopped into her seat. Breathing heavily, her pulse racing, her hand shot to her sex. It wasn’t until she was in the relative privacy of her cubicle that the events hit her, and they hit her hard. Her legs parted, as she sunk two fingers into her marehood.
Closing her eyes, dwelling on her coworker’s shocked expression, she shamelessly played with herself. What would he have done, had she stayed? What would she have done, if others had been there to bear witness to her display? The “what ifs” were unimaginably provocative, spurring her to vent some of the depraved frustrations as best she could.
Exacting intimate punishment upon herself, hoping to assuage the incontrovertible feelings of lust and sinful delight, Coco cocked one leg and placed her foot on the table. Using two digits to massage her g-spot, her thumb toyed with her rigid clit. Still, despite the self gratification, it wasn’t enough.
Clutching one tit, her digits eagerly twisted and pulled at her nipple. Panting, desperate for release, she got herself off. Sweet Celestia, even if someone did catch her in the act, at that point, it didn’t matter. The barest whimper left her lips, as her movements grew frantic.
Snck...Snck...Snck
The sudden noise caused Coco to peek out, even though she continued wantonly fingering herself. There, loitering by the entryway to her sanctuary, was the intern. In his hand he held his phone, unquestionably directed at her. Her breath hitched in her throat, her snatch clenched around her digits, and she came with all the catastrophic force of a dying star.
Nectar erupted from her sex, spattering her hand and chair, as her body seized. Her eyes rolled wildly, her vision grew blurry and unfocused, and the world went dim. Harsh waves of pure, unfettered rapture surged through her frame, leaving her limbs useless. As her chest heaved air into her burning lungs and her leg fell from the desk, flopping to the floor.
Coco’s mind was a fractured war-zone of conflicting thoughts: bliss, fear, joy, embarrassment, and passion all fought for dominance, as her consciousness gradually returned. By the time her higher functions had given her some modicum of control, allowing her to look around with jarring clarity, the intern had disappeared.
Panting, as the post climactic stupor took hold of her, she donned her blouse and skirt. Wiping off her slickened fingers and palm with a handful of tissues, she collected her thoughts. If nothing else, the bout had granted her some relief, if only temporary, though she’d have plenty to dwell on.
Straightening her hair, regaining some sense of normalcy, Coco hesitated. Retracting her hand, gazing at her digits, she brought them to her mouth and gave them a lick. Savoring the cloying, tart flavor of her essence, the delicate aroma of her sex drifted to her nostrils. Seamlessly, she returned to her duties, as she imagined what her next encounter with the intern would entail…
