Too much work

Work builds up fast, and the intern finds the cure in the quiet of a locked office. She presses her fingers against the damp patch on her panties, tracing the outline of her shaved lips. The fabric clings, thin and frilly, until she slips beneath it. One finger parts her folds, slides inside, then another follows. Her wrist rocks, steady and hard, filling the room with wet sounds. Her breath grows ragged. She pushes deeper, hips lifting, until the pleasure snaps through her and she sinks into the chair, legs shaking, spent.