Thirty-Five Years
Brings Déjà vu to Reality
By H.G. Hunt
Chapter 6
Jean arrived home from work that Thursday pleased with her
new job and work environment. The people she had met all
seemed pleasant and professional. She got home before Brent
and grabbed the newspaper and a cup of tea to relax. Her
mind lingered on the day’s events, returning to the hospital
and noting how flushed with excitement she felt. The
authority and responsibilities of her new job surged in her
like an aphrodisiac. She shivered briefly as she recalled
her day and the realization that she would be a superior to
quite a few people in the hierarchy of the organization,
especially a lot of women. Such a dreamy thought always made
her a little bit horny, and speculating on using her power
over women in the workplace did nothing to hinder her
long-held bi-curiosity and feminine competitiveness.
She sipped her tea and kicked off her shoes; crossing her
legs and feeling the soft brush of pantyhose-covered-legs
create a tingling sensation that traveled up to her crotch.
Her daydreaming included intimate recall of the sights,
sounds, and smells of her day at work. As her mind flowed
forward from her early part of the day, through lunch, and
her tour of the building, she recalled the 2nd floor waiting
room, patient’s rooms, nurses’ station, doctors and nurses’
lounges, and offices. Why her memories lingered on that walk
down the hallway she couldn’t comprehend, nor did she even
try. She just found herself drifting away from thoughts of
the hospital to thoughts of her sensual lust for power over
other women, and ways to bring that lust to fulfilled
reality.
It must have been the aroma. Lisa’s pheromones permeated the
air and Jean’s sensitive nose and brain, so overpowered that
May afternoon years before by her intimacies with Lisa, must
have captured the faintest whiff of Lisa’s natural scent
wafting through the corridor, sexy and powerful, that
reached deep into her brain, and reignited that lust, so
long held at bay, but now aching to escape.
She didn’t recognize it as Lisa’s aroma, but the effects
were there, and powerful they were, regardless. She pulled
her skirt up high and with deft skill teased her fabric
covered mound with slow circles with her right index finger.
Her legs opened a bit and she pressed the fabric into her
crevice, feeling a growing urgency and the evidence found in
the warmth and moisture wicking through the fabric to her
fingers. In moments she had come, a long and almost
lingeringly lazy orgasm, as visions of supine and satiated
women, satisfied by Jean’s own ministrations, danced through
her head.
As the last shiver of pleasure drained away she stood up and
went about the rest of her evening, unaware of the
implications of today’s events.
TO BE CONTINUED