0 comments/ 38456 views/ 20 favorites Beth's Breakup By: rifkinraf Beth didn't know what had gone wrong last night. She had felt rejected for the last year as her boyfriends sex drive slowly dropped, to now, apparently non existent. The last time they had sex was nearly 9 months ago. Endless rejection made her feel that she was somehow unattractive now. This morning after her shower she spent a long moment watching herself in the mirror, turning, arching and bending, staring at the same parts that men stared at trying to figure out why her boyfriend was no longer interested. For the most part Beth was petite, toned 31 year old. Long and straight dark hair, 5'4", slight in the shoulders, pretty in the face, 32 B, slim waist, firm stomach. When you got below her waist however, you would stop calling her petite. Her hips were nearly 40 inches, and her butt was round and firm. Men at college used to joke that it came out of the small of her back at such an angle you could set a drink on it. One morning after being told that she tried it in the mirror with a can of hairspray before putting her clothes on, and it worked. She cupped her breasts, tried to jiggle her firm ass, and made silly kissy faces in the mirror. "What's wrong with me? What's wrong with HIM?" Beth made up her mind right then that she no longer had a boyfriend. Last night they had gone to diner, and when they returned to his place after she slowly stripped off her clothes. Under her sexy, but conservative office wear she was wearing something she had picked up for just this occasion. Her last stand. A pale, lace, off-white half cup bra, with matching garters and panties. She loved the set on the rack, and tried it all on in the store except for the panties. There was a small problem with the panties. Actually, it was a big problem. Her ass. The panties were bikini cut, and she typically only wore thongs, not for any reason other than the fact that her disproportionately massive butt simply didn't fit in anything else. At the risk of ripping the flimsy lace bikini briefs by forcing them up over her ass she didn't try them on. Out of preemptive embarrassment of being asked why she wanted it all but the panties, he bought all three pieces and a pair of black sheer stockings. Beth told herself she could just match a thong to the bra and garter later. The night of their last date came, and she could find nothing that matched the delicate sheer lace of the set. As she got ready to do everything she could to get laid for a change, she saw no other option but to just wear them. It was only for tonight. Stretched tight over her ass they looked ridiculous. The waist band didn't make it more than two thirds of the way up her ass crack, and it cut into the flesh so deep you could have rolled a quarter in the seams. Looking at it in the mirror she said out loud, "It's just for tonight. It's kinda trashy hot I guess." She put the garter on, pulling the straps under the waistband of the panties, followed by the bra and the stockings. She looked at herself again in the mirror, and just couldn't go through with wearing panties two sizes too small. She took them off, groaned and threw them on the bed. She went to her closet, opened her underwear drawer and picked through it for anything that remotely matched. Returning to the mirror with an armload of underpants, Beth went about the task of trying each on in turn to find a pair that matched, and most importantly fit. It was like looking for the Holy Grail in Kansas. Beth had slid no less than 30 pairs of panties up over the garter, snapping the elastic of waistbands and thongs into place, turning around in the mirror to see how they looked. Huffing after each rejected pair, slipping them down and throwing them on the floor of the nearby closet. None of them matched well enough to look right. "Maybe they'll stretch," she said, giving up and scooping the tiny briefs off the bed. After their date she she stood in his living room between the sofa and the tv, clothes in a heap nearby, giving her boyfriend time to take in the sight of the underwear set she was so proud of. It did little for him. She approached him on the sofa, slowly walking in her heels, swinging her hips like they were the pendulum that kept the world turning. When she got close, she placed a hand on the crotch of his slacks and found him limp. She pulled out a smoky bedroom voice and asked, "Need any help with that?" She unzipped him and put his limp cock directly in her mouth, and went to work trying to harden it. Nothing happened. She kept trying. Minutes of slobbering on his shriveled, limp dick later, he gave up. Apologizing and saying he apparently wasn't in the mood, he got up from the sofa and went to bed. Still on her knees in front of the sofa when the bedroom door closed at 8:30, Beth said under her breath, "Fuck this." She kicked off her heels, peeled the uncomfortable panties off her ass like the skin off an unripe mango, grabbed her bathrobe, and got in the kitchen freezer after a bottle of vodka. She flopped on the sofa, and found a movie on cable. It had an actor in it she thought was kind of attractive, but not exactly good looking. Halfway through her drink she muted the sound so as not to be distracted by the plot, parted her robe, and masturbated listlessly, staring at him and fantasizing simply about him getting a hard on before it was even in her mouth. Now, checking herself out in the mirror after her shower, replaying the events of the night before, and making her mind up that she was now single, Beth breathed in deeply the relief of freedom. She left the bathroom to get dressed for work, she had a presentation this morning at a local college in front of 300 grad students. Her boyfriend almost always left before her, and today was no different. In the bedroom she got into the one dresser drawer she kept at his apartment, and stood staring blankly into the emptiness. Empty? "Fucking bastard." She closed the drawer imagining him taking the contents to the trash chute on his way out this morning. "You can't do that. I'm breaking up with YOU." She groaned, and stomped around finding her clothes from last night. What she had worn last night was date-sexy, but still business appropriate. In the living room she picked the short black pencil skirt out of the heap of clothes, slightly wrinkled and heavy with rejection. She straightened it, thought to herself that it would be fine. Bending to pick up the tight white blouse, she thought unprompted, "What about underwear?" She looked up with dread at the tiny panties still on the coffee table. She groaned again, dropped the clothes she was straightening and went to work rounding up the pieces of her underwear set. After wiggling her gigantic ass into the scrap of sheer lace she looked in the mirror at the elastic cutting in again, this time with the idea of wearing them to work in her mind. She firmly cupped the underside of one of her cheeks and let it bounce, watching everything twist and sway like those videos of suspension bridges collapsing in the wind. "Maybe they'll stretch." She sounded less hopeful this time. She thought it was more likely they would just shred. The thought of that made her feel like she was exacting some sort of torture on the ill fitting garment. Looking at them one last time in the mirror she negotiated, "Commando?" She had never done that with a skirt without at least pantyhose before. Even the uncomfortable panties would be more comfortable than giving her presentation with just the breeze against her pussy. She was wearing them. That was that. She put the stockings and the rest of her clothes on, did her make up, and left her boyfriends apartment for the last time, kicking her key under the door when she left. She had never taken the time to check how the tight pencil skirt fit over the tiny panties. Being mostly a thong wearer, checking for panty lines before she left never really crossed her mind. If it had, she probably would have recounted her decision and just gone without. Her panty lines were not only visible, but likely so from space. If they were channels in the dirt instead of her ass, you could irrigate North Africa with them. Leaving the building, and clicking down the street on her heels to the subway station, Beth breathed deep a breath of freedom. Knowing that either they just had, or would be impenitently broken up felt like a great weight had been lifted off of her. She was so taken with the feeling that she did not notice the extra attention that her savagely scaled posterior, creased with VPL, was getting. Down on the platform she waited for an uptown train, and when one arrived, it was crowded, but gratefully she still found a seat. Maybe today was going to be alright even if it started off on the wrong foot. As she went to sit a gentleman tried to stop her, but he didn't try too hard. He smiled when it was too late and went about his business getting off at the next stop. On second thought, he was no gentleman. There was a reason the seat was vacant, but Beth had not noticed at all. Instead she opened her briefcase and reviewed her Powerpoint for later in the day. Early this morning a young man had been arrested on that very train. His charge was indecent exposure. He had been masturbating furiously at an older woman headed to work. The police had not noticed that the young man had finished, and New Yorkers being New Yorkers the puddle had been noticed and then artfully ignored by everyone that had been near it. Even Beth had ignored it. Her preoccupation with her now ex-boyfriend had kept her from noticing that her blessed empty seat was pooled with one of the biggest cumshots Beth would have seen to date, if she had seen it. Instead it was now coating her ass in a thin glaze of semen. She wasn't on the train long enough for it to soak completely through, so it continued to go unnoticed. At her stop she stood, strings of cum forming and snapping between her glorious backside and the damp seat. She funneled toward the escalator as the alternative at this stop was 14 flights of stairs. The escalator went all the way up in one go, and was narrow and single file to dissuade people from pushing ahead. Her heels clomped onto the metal grate of the escalator, and a shabby man in his late twenties stepped on the grate behind her. As the grates lifted apart, her ass was brought up nearly to this young man's eye level. He didn't stare more than 5 seconds before he started snapping cellphone pictures of her cum soaked, large and round, impossibly firm ass, with deep pantylines. After a satisfying number, he thought that even though jacking off to those later would be very gratifying, he had it right here, right now. Why not? He looked over his shoulder to make sure the coast was clear. The woman behind him was engrossed in a romance novel. The coast was clear. He took out his cock, and set to work attempting to memorize the details of the drying cumstain of a Rorschach test on her ass. Holding his bulky jacket open a little to further hide the view from behind, he worked his cock furiously to finish before he lost the opportunity with her present. When the orgasm started to boil, he made no attempt to catch his load, he just tipped his head back and looked at the ceiling slowly getting closer. As the mechanical stairs leveled out her ass lowered to his crotch height and he began spurting cum. Shot after shot of thick, pearly white cum splattered into the already damp fabric of her skirt. It was more cum than he had ever seen himself produce, and it covered her ass in a thick, gooey lattice, but he kept cumming even after she stepped off, his last two shots splattering on the floor to be trampled. He stumbled off of his grate, clutching his jacket closed to hide his deflating erection and disappeared into the crowd. Beth was still completely unaware of anything other than the feeling of being free from a horrid relationship. On the escalator ride she was making lists of things she could do now, that her suffocating and unfulfilling relationship had previously precluded. Men were breaking their necks as she walked by before, but now that the parts they were looking at were also clearly and completely coated in cum, she was causing accidents. Clicking down the street in her heels a man walking the other direction craned his head to look at her backside, and plowed directly into a light pole when he saw it. A panhandler sitting on the sidewalk dropped a cigarette from his agape jaw, straight into his hat full of crumpled bills setting it ablaze. A construction worker got half a catcall out, and choked out in awe once she was past and he got a view of her backside. A garbage truck driver plowed into a parked sedan, pushing it up onto the sidewalk. Beth was oblivious in her bliss to all but the construction worker. To him she just groaned, and clicked faster, swinging her hips like mad. She got to the lecture hall and started setting up. Her presentation was about global economics at an all men's college she had partnered with over the last few years. The lecture hall filled with nearly 300 students (all men), she got a little nervous, they put the house lights down, and she thought she did well in the end. The college used a set up where there was a camera on her for the whole presentation, projecting her face speaking to one screen, and her Powerpoint to another. Her presentation was nearly and hour, and unbeknownst to her, most of the male students were snapping cell phone pics of her stained and poorly contained backside every chance they got. The cameraman also had a very difficult time keeping the camera on Beth's face. She didn't notice any of that. She did notice that there seemed to be a lot of movement in the first few rows, as if the students were moving their hands a lot. She had no idea what it was. At the end of the presentation they opened the floor to questions. Beth loved this part. It was challenging and kept her brain on it's toes. She was ready to feel good at something again. There was a microphone set up in the aisle, and one of the only lights on in the house was above it. The first student to it, cleared his throat, and asked Beth the most difficult question she had ever been asked after a presentation. "Is that cum on your ass?" Beth's heart skipped a beat. Her eyes shot open as wide as they could open, and she craned her head over her shoulder, whipping her hair to look. She groaned when she saw her ass. It did indeed look like dried cum. "How did that happen?" And adding insult to injury, the tiny panties were giving her the worlds worst pantylines. "Pantylines? I look like a tramp!" The student continued, "So it is cum?" "It looks like it, yeah," she huffed a little, irritated, "Argh." Beth got in her purse for some kleenex, and started wiping them on her ass, fruitlessly trying to clean off the now dried cum. The cameraman didn't skip a beat, getting every pass she made with the kleenex up on the screen. Beth's cumstained butt, 20 feet wide, ravaged with pantylines, for all to see. One student in the front row, could take no more. He had been stroking his cock for almost the whole presentation and was read to explode. He jumped up while Beth's head was turned over her shoulder attempting to clean up. He stopped right in front of her, threw his head back and grunted and blasted his wad all over the front of her skirt, droplets splattering on her stockings, and globs of it dripping onto her shoes. Beth turned to face him, completely stunned. She looked at the man's lingering orgasm face, and blankly said, "What the fuck, dude?" The cameraman circled getting her front in the viewfinder. He panned down from her waist, catching the glistening semen trailing down her skirt, soaking into her stockings, and adding extra sheen to the toes of her patent leather heels. That was enough for the rest of the front row. As Beth was looking down at the mess, about to start dabbing the kleenex on the front of her skirt this time, she was blind sided by four more men. All four had their hard cocks out, all four were blazing red, swollen to the point of orgasm. The cameraman, in preparation for what was coming maneuvered around them to get a clear shot of her in the crowd. All four came at nearly the same time. They had run up to her front, mostly getting it on her below the waist. Her stockings drinking up great patches of, and the wool of her skirt clinging to some, but her shoes paid the ultimate price due to nothing other than gravity. The toes of each shoe was nearly completely coated now, some even soaking through her stockings and dripping down the sides of her feet into her shoes. One of the men was tall enough that his deposit had sprayed the front of her blouse turning spots of it translucent. Beth's face expressed alarm. "What are you doing?" she asked in a huff, stomping the toe of one shoe in a puddle for emphasis. Beth's attitude overall was more one of indigence than outrage. As soon as she stomped, another man had come up from the auditorium and come on her, this time on to her ass again some of it splattering onto her left hand. "Ew!" Beth whipped to look at him when she felt it, and in turning realized that the stage was now full with men who had left their seats, cocks in hand, intent on blowing their load as the previous six had. "Oh shit." Beth dropped the kleenex out of shock. And then they were on her. In the next several moments, the men in the crowd descended on her. She could only ever see four or five at a time, and the cameraman was always right there. After they came new ones always rotated in. Someone in her field of sight was cumming nearly nonstop. They seemed content for now just jacking off on her clothes. When she would attempt to shield herself someone inevitably pulled her hands away. In short time she took at least 30 more shots quickly in skirt, excess soaking her stockings in streaks and gobs, polishing her shoes, and pooling inside them, squishing under her feet. The skin under her skirt was feeling damp from it. A few taller men, and those who could make up the distance were able to reach her blouse, soaking it to transparent nearly instantly. It clung to Beth's tits, and exposed hints of the classy bra she wore. The hem of her skirt started to be lifted from behind. Beth squealed, "Noooo," and attempted to reach back and hold it down, but her hands were pulled to the front, not only making her unable to hold it down, but forcing her to bend at a slight angle. As soon as the skirt was up around her waist, exposing the garter, the tiny panties, and her improbably giant butt, three men came on it at once. The panties were little barrier. The lace of their construction barely slowed the cum down on it's way deep into her ass crack. It dripped down coating her asshole, and following the channels creased by the elastic of the panties. It pooled on the inside of the gusset nestled against her pussy, and dripped from the outside of her crotch. One man in front of her tucked a single finger into the waistband and held the panties open enough to cum into her natural pubes and let the waistband snap back into place, splattering cum over the top and through the lace with a squish. Beth still had her hands held, but made eye contact with the man, "Really?" He shrugged. As he turned to disappear into the crowd Beth sarcastically said, "Thanks, guy." Beth was aware that some of the cum was starting to get in her hair, down her cleavage, and over her collarbones. From the neck down she was completely soaked and still fully clothed. This was not looking good, but she knew there was nothing she could do to have stopped it. There was a yanking at her hips, and a long hard tearing sound as her skirt came off. Over the clamor of the crowd Beth could clearly hear it splatter to the floor. Her blouse followed suit, splattering off in the other direction. Beth was now only wearing the underwear set that had failed to get her laid, her patent leather heels, and semen. Beth's Breakup The shoes didn't make it much longer either. She was pushed and pulled in the crowd, everybody hoping to get her on her knees, but she somehow resisted. Beth fell off balance a little, and toppled out of one of the shoes. She kicked the other off instead of standing in one heel. She lost track of the shoes for a few moments after that. Standing in a puddle of semen in her stocking feet as men continued to jack off on her, Beth thought to herself, "This is what you get for wearing bikini panties." And then she saw someone in the crowd hand the man directly in front of her one of her shoes. The man looked down at it, and came immediately all over Beth's firm, soaked stomach. The shoe was full of cum to overflowing. Beth didn't like the look of this. The other shoe was produced from the crowd to the left, in similar condition. A voice shouted over the noise of the crowd, "Put them on!" Beth looked around for whoever had said that, curled her lip and asked, "On my feet? You're kidding." The crowd apparently thought that was a good idea, and she was scooped up off the ground by them, her legs parted, and her feet held up to waist height. Beth thought for a moment that it was odd that so many men in the crowd were willing to touch her when she was soaked in semen, when most men wouldn't even kiss her after an unfinished blowjob. But she dismissed the thought as her foot squished into the first shoe. Cum forced it's way through the nylons, against the whole sole of her foot, and up in between each of her toes. Excess shot up her ankle, and out near her arch. It dripped down the long heel and off of the toe of the shoe. Her other foot was forced into it's shoe similarly, and she was set back on her feet with a squish. A barrage of shots went off on her then, none of them hitting anywhere that wasn't already dripping in cum. Hands clung at her shoulders, and her hips, pushing her down so they could reach the last dry spots on her body. Eventually someone tapped the back of her knees gently, and she went down to a kneel with a squeal and a splat. She was looking up into the camera as the situation started to clarify in her mind. The rest of the men in the auditorium were going to cum on her face. Her heart suddenly raced in a fear that she didn't have before even though maybe she should have. This could not be happening. She burst into tears like a dam breaking, mascara and eyeliner having races down her face. "Please!" she sobbed. "Please!" She noticed that a cock was inches away from her, and she looked directly into it. It was streaming a massive drop of precum all the way down to Beth's thighs without breaking. It was swollen to the point the skin was shiny even though it was unlubricated. It started to throb with the rhythm of orgasm. Beth squealed nervously, "Oooooh." And then something inexplicable happened. In hindsight Beth has never really figured this part out. There she was, her mind sprinting from humiliated, to indignant, to fearful. All she could smell was semen. She was soaked in strangers spunk. She was on her knees, staring directly into a cock about to cum. She doesn't know why it happened. She asks herself why it happened sometimes, and other times asks why it didn't happen sooner. Beth opened her mouth. The cock she was staring down exploded, shooting into her mouth, coating her tongue, and splattering into her chin and lips. When it was done Beth snapped her mouth shut, and swallowed, the camera catching everything and projecting it on the screen for the whole auditorium to see. She looked directly into it. Eyes crazed. Face tear streaked with wayward makeup. Lip curled in a cum smeared sneer that hung in drips off her chin. She groaned, but it was a much different groan than all of her irritated rumblings from this morning. It was a groan of need. Hunger. Beth repeated her plead, "Please!" This time in a much lower register, a voice reminiscent to the one she made attempting to get her boyfriends dick up. "Please," this time she wined, "give me more cum!" She beat her hands up and down like a drummer throwing a tantrum.The camera didn't miss a second. Her eyebrow twitched, and she demanded, "Nobody leaves until their cocks run dry!" Her face was suddenly coated from two different directions. She held her mouth open again as soon as she noticed she was missing her delicious treat, but still most of it didn't make it in. Still she swallowed the drops that did. Even without the mic on the camera, Beth would have been heard shouting, "More," in the whole auditorium. Several more loads slid across her face, and she managed to swallow a bit more of it. Groping hands snagged her bra and finally released her cute, handful of tits already drenched. It wasn't long before hands slipped into the waistband of the panties and tried to hike them down. Even being blinded with thick sticky cum, Beth slapped the hands out of her nickers, the men kept trying though until Beth growled, "No. They are mine!" Confused the crowd stopped yanking at the tiny underpants. She got up from sitting on her feet onto her knees, thighs spread wide, and tucked her thumbs into the top of the panties as the waves of semen pounded her face. She stretched the waistband up and out. She gritted her teeth against the spunk-damp wedgie she was giving herself. Her teeth were bared for no more than a few seconds, but someone in the crowd took the opportunity to shoot a massive load across her (now extra) pearly whites. She thrust her hips, and pulled. With a satisfying rip, the offensive undergarment was destroyed. Beth held it above her head like a scalp and beamed like she was going to Disneyland, cum dripping off of her joyous smile. She licked the cum off her teeth, and used the panties to wipe her eyes. She opened her mouth as wide as she could, but was still not getting to swallow enough of the fluids as her snapped mind wanted. The terrible underpants in her hand were soaked with the cum she wanted to eat, it seemed so unfair, but she saw a solution. She tipped her head back, mouth open, held her panties over it, and wrung them out. A thick drip of semen dropped into her mouth. The panties were still damp, and her desire unsatisfied. She held them by one edge, and lowered the shredded wreckage of what were earlier her underpants into her spunk hungry mouth. She sucked at them greedily. She pulled the wet scrap of lace slowly out of her mouth. She stopped to clean some fresh cum from her eyes with them, and then began to mop with them at the puddle she was sitting in. When they were saturated, she repeated the process, wringing them dry into her mouth. All of this being projected on the screen. Some A student in the crowd thought quick, and scrambled off to scrounge up a dustpan. The one he found was large and clean, it had clearly not been used. As she sucked the panties clean for a fifth time, the man with the dustpan pushed his way to the front. He scooped likely near a quart of semen off the floor and said to Beth in a kind sweet voice, "Open up." Beth wiped her eyes clean again with the delicate and destroyed panties, blinked open and saw what was about to happen. "Oh Jesus." A little shocked, she paused, but it passed. "Fuck yeah." She pointed at the man with the dustpan, "You! Gold star!" The point turned to a thumbs up. She threw her head back, throwing droplets off her cum soaked hair, and jacked her mouth as far open as it would go. He poured from the corner. Maybe a tenth of the contents of the pan filled her mouth. She tried to swallow as it poured, but couldn't with her mouth open. She got one mouthful down, and opened for another. It overflowed over her chin, and over her cheekbones. It flooded her nostrils and into her sinuses. She let out a cough, and the contents of her mouth exploded on her face. There was still more to pour, and she struggled to swallow. When the dustpan was empty she pushed as much of the thick mess into her mouth to be eaten as she could. She blew spunk out of her nose into the panties, looked into it out of habit, and couldn't resist the sight of the cum. She hungrily lapped at what she had just blown out of her sinuses. From someplace in the crowd someone brainstormed, "Pour it in her cunt!" Beth stopped licking her spunk-snot out of the panties, turned trying to address whoever had said it, and said hesitantly, "Yeah?" Looked around at all of the cocks at her eye level, and was bolstered. She repeated, this time excitedly as though it were the best idea she had ever heard. "Yeah! Pour it in my cunt!" Beth flopped in the puddle onto her back, and her legs were thrown over her head for her. Two men, one on either side plunged two fingers each into her drenched and throbbing snatch. It was the first time in a long time she had had something in there that wasn't attached to her body, made out of silicon, or a medical instrument. She ground against their fingers lustfully. As the dustpan was scooping up more cum, the two men pried her vagina open as wide as it would go. Once again, the guy with the gold star poured from the corner. The stream splattered directly onto Beth's cervix. The sensation was unlike anything she had ever felt. It was like loading a Summer's Eve with Jell-o. Involuntarily she said, "Woah," and then looked around as if to see who had said that. Her vagina eventually also filled just as her mouth had, runoff coating her monumental ass, and streaming up her belly toward the underside of her tits. The sensation of her vagina being completely filled with the goo was too much for her. He cunt starting twitching, then had a full blown spasm. It clenched shut, and much like stomping on a toothpaste tube, the contents only had one place to go. Straight out. The geyser of cum shot out of her vagina, and at least 4 or 5 feet into the air. Beth was astounded at what was happening. Her mouth hung agape and her eyes bugged as much as they could under her confusion crumpled eyebrows. That was the wrong face to be making right then. Much like gunshots fired into the air on the Fourth of July, the cum gunshot her cunt just shot out had to come down someplace. And it did. Directly into her face. With a slap it sloshed into her mouth and sinuses, flooded her open eyes, even managed to work its way into her ears. Stunned by the impact of her recycled-cum vaginally-rocketed facial, Beth still managed to swallow what had wound up in her mouth. She coughed lightly once, and said breathlessly, "Again." The men cheered. Hours passed. The cameraman and Beth were the only ones left. Everyone else had left when their cocks ran dry, as she had demanded. She was on her knees in front of him, just in her garters stockings and heels, cupping her breasts. Her hair plastered down, and traces of her makeup now only present on her belly and the floor. Her mouth was open, her tongue curled. His cock throbbed in orgasm, but no fluid escaped. Beth's face panicked, "No. Nonononono." "Sorry lady, eight was all I had." "No." "Tell you what, have my raincoat, here's cab money in the pocket." "Fuck." Beth grimaced. "It's over?" "Yeah." The cameraman walked out. Beth was Thanksgiving-day-full, but still picked up a discarded water bottle in the aisle and scooped it full of cum off the stage. She sat in the front row and casually drank from it while she air dried enough to put the coat on. How did that even happen? Was her VPL really to blame for it all? "If that was thanks to those panties, I need to go blow like a whole paycheck on bikini briefs." Suddenly she laughed. The presentation had been available as a public webcast. That whole thing had been broadcast. Maybe she could do it again? Satisfactorily crusty, she refilled the bottle from what was left, said, "One for the road." She plucked the panties out of a puddle, intent on framing them. Slipped on the raincoat over her garters, and click-squished out to hail a cab.