Energy Gulp! by G-man001
Suzanna Briggs fixed her hair. The tight bun she had spent much of the morning styling was coming undone. It had been one of those days. She made her way to her desk, past the endless rows of beige cubicles. Stuck to the wall of her cubicle was a speedily prepared flyer advertising “Amanda’s Going Away Party.” Amanda was the third woman to leave the company since Suzanna had been hired eight months ago. And while that may have raised flags for some women, Suzanna was plenty comfortable in her workplace. Suzanna tossed the flyer into the shredder, having hardly known Amanda, and sat down at her desk and began her work for the day.
Time slowed and the day dragged on. Suzanna gazed at the clock beside her computer monitor. The red LED glared back at her: 11:50 AM. She sighed. It was apparently just the start of one of those days. She had felt unusually tired today. Her morning routine was off and she had abused the snooze button thoroughly.
Rather than fall asleep at her desk, Suzanna made the decision to take a quick break outdoors. If only she could find her ‘emergency’ pack of cigarettes she hid in her office. A-ha! Behind her favorite stuffed monkey on her desk’s return. She grabbed the pack and fished out a most likely stale smoke. Having quit the nasty habit for over a month now, she was proud of her progress and mentally chastised herself for breaking so easily over a little case of exhaustion. She pressed ctrl + alt + delete and locked her computer, grabbed her thin black shawl from the back of her computer chair and made her way towards the elevator.
Suzanna’s black professional heels clicked and clacked throughout the eighth floor that Into-Tech Industries occupied in the office building. She would usually have clacked down the stairs. Her sleepy state forced her to accept the elevator, lest she snooze off and fall down a flight of stairs.
Once on the ground floor, she made her way through the glass entrance doors. She inhaled deeply and tried to revive herself with fresh air instead of smoke. It didn’t work. Off to her right, next to the building, was a small vendor stand. Funny, I haven’t seen that here before, Suzanna puzzled to herself.
She stuck her unlit cigarette behind her ear and walked toward the cart. It looked like any other vendor cart in a major commercial setting. One part ice-cream truck, one part hot dog stand, all parts grungy and disgusting. Suzanna decided to take a look anyway. Maybe she’d find something to boost her energy instead of breaking into her smoking habit. She approached the cart and read the hand written menu, when she was startled by a man’s voice.
“Tired, are ya?” the voice cracked, but Suzanna couldn’t place the source. She looked around for a moment and then spied a portly man with a white t-shirt that didn’t hide his spare tire very well. The shirt advertised a band that Suzanna was sure had broken up over 10 years ago.
“Excuse me?” Suzanna retorted.
“I asked if you was tired.” He stated.
“Umm…I suppose. But that’s really none of your business.” Suzanna replied embarrassed that her condition was so apparent.
“Course it is! It’s the business of any highly trained salesperson, such as me, to know da customers.” He stated confidently as he lugged long, large crates out of the back of the truck and set them on the ground beside his feet.
Suzanna looked over the menu once more and did not find anything, sans “Coffee- Black $1.25,” that would help her condition. The thought of what brown-black sludge she would be served, sent a shiver down her spine and she nixed the idea quickly. Suzanna cursed herself again for forgetting to set the automatic drip timer on her cappuccino machine.
The man piped up, “If you is looking for something to wake yourself up, give ‘dis a whirl.” He chucked a small bottle at Suzanne. In an effort to catch the small canister, she had to jerk her head so fast her cigarette fell to the ground. She didn’t notice.
She inspected the tiny object. It was the size of a liquor store flu-shot, those small sips of alcohol that a patron buys cheaply. They were also prevalent in mini-bars in hotel rooms that Suzanna had stayed in on business trips. The label looked homemade, like someone had used very basic software and stuck label paper in a printer. There were very few technical specifications and even less nutritional specifications. In bright green, block letters it read: ENERGY GULP! There was a paragraph of information on the powerful energy supplied by the little beverage. It was mostly advertisement mumbo-jumbo, nothing of any merit or science.
“Energy Gulp?” Suzanna read out loud.
“You never heard of it?” The man approached her. She smelt suntan lotion, cigarettes and body odor.
“No, should I have?”
The man put on his best salesman show and became very demonstrative. “Well, of course. It’s only the best energy drink in town! Screw those however-many hours energy drinks, this lil puppy got them all beat. Half the size of its competitors with twice as much…punch.” He was very animated. Suzanna thought she had discovered who had bought the software and label paper.
“This is something you make? Personally?”
“Shiiiiiiiit, no. I’m just the only guy the creator trusts to distr…dibur….to sell the stuff.” He boasted.
Suzanna raised an eyebrow. She was just about to put the small object back into the man’s greasy hand when he spoke again.
“First one’s free.” He quipped.
Suzanna looked at it again. Seeing how the man didn’t have 4 or 5 hour energy drinks available, Suzanna shrugged and shoved the tiny capsule into her pant pocket. She gave a mumbled thanks, spun around and headed for the doors.
“One is all it takes most folks, cause it works so good!” The man called out to her as she made her way back into the office building. Suzanna muttered a thank you and began to walk away from the vendor’s stand. The vendor reached into his pocket and grabbed his cell phone. He had an important call to make.
* * *
The young, fit professional sat waiting for her elevator. It was taking much longer than usual. That’s when Suzanna decided to try her free gift out. She pulled the tiny bottle from her pocket. The cap was the same color green as the writing on the label. She popped it open with her thumb and peered into the white bottle. The substance inside was definitely green. Lemon-lime, at least it’s a flavor I can stand, she mused to herself.
Without much ado, she tipped the bottle back and downed the whole bottle in one swallow.
Suzanna didn’t know what to expect. She didn’t feel a surge of energy run through her. She didn’t feel a jittery bolt of electricity. In fact, she felt nothing. She would have been more pissed off, but she remembered that she wasn’t out any money. And besides, she told herself, those other energy drinks cost so much for so little.
She did, however, convince herself that the stairs were a good idea and when she reached the eighth floor without so much as a pant or wheeze she remembered that she hadn’t smoked. She gave herself a mental high-five and returned to her quiet desk.
She did feel much more energized. It took a little bit over an hour to notice anything, but she hadn’t dozed off at all. The clock read 3:02 PM. She had made a lot of progress in her revisions of her team members’ work. She had made so much progress she thought about rewarding herself.
Without any thought at all, she clicked on her internet browser and typed in the name of her favorite erotic story site. She took a few moments to see if any new Sapphic stories had appeared. She didn’t know if she was a confirmed lesbian yet, she just knew that a man hadn’t provided her with what she needed for a long time. Just when she was about to click on a story entitled something like ‘Wet Works,’ which had the story tags she was definitely into, she paused.
What am I doing? She quickly closed the browser and sat stunned in her chair. Her company tracked internet usage. How could she have been so careless? She quickly tried to remember all the fast and easy ways for the company to know where she had been. She cleared her browser history, deleted cache files, cookies and anything she could get access to. Suzanna realized she was panting now. She tried to calm down. She breathed in slow and deep. She began to rationalize. Surely she couldn’t be the only employee that looked at porn at work. Heck, she figured, I might be the only one looking at text stories instead of hogging bandwidth with videos. She wouldn’t get in trouble, but she dared not go any further.
Unfortunate for Suzanna, she did feel a certain level of heat in between her thighs. She rubbed them together for a few moments and then quickly dashed off to the ladies room to alleviate the building arousal in her loins. After a satisfying climax in the stall of the lavatory for the rest of the day Suzanna was awake; bored, but awake.
* * *
Suzanna slammed her brown bag lunch on her desk. She was late and that always infuriated her. She had a case of drowsiness that she just couldn’t shake. The hair that was usually styled perfectly into a tight bun now lay collected in a loose, wet ponytail. She had allowed herself just enough to shower and dress before racing to beat beltway traffic; the hair dryer never even got plugged in.
As Suzanna poured through the latest figures and specifications, her head bobbed. Her eyelids drooped. She reached toward the monkey on her desk. The stuffed animal stood like a sentry defending the cigarettes from the army of nic-fitting invaders. Suzanna overpowered the stuffed animal guard and took a cig from the pack and returned the pack to its hidden post.
When she hit the outdoors, Suzanna popped the cancer stick into her mouth. Before she could light it, she saw the vendor again. Her mouth dropped open and the cigarette fell out. Of course! Another one of those energy drinks! Suzanne walked fast over to the vendor’s stand and looked around. She didn’t see the man from before.
“Back again?” a familiar male voice spoke up.
Suzanne spun around and saw the same salesman she had met here before. The man looked slightly puzzled.
“Yeah, I have to thank you for the free sample. Do you still have those energy thingies in stock? I could really use another.” she asked.
Without a word the man, hoisted himself into the van through the doors in the back. After a few moments a tiny bottle was tossed out the vending window on the side of the van. Suzanne caught it.
“How much do I owe you for this?” She questioned him as she tried to hold her purse and the bottle in separate hands.
“Ummm…let’s make it 5 dollars.” The man seemed pleased at himself for being such a great salesman. Suzanne thought she was getting a deal. She handed the greasy male a folded bill and made her way back inside, clutching her tiny bottle tight. Meanwhile, the greasy salesman tipped his green visor to the back of his head and scratched his balding noggin. He stared in bewilderment as the young woman entered the building. He had an urgent call to make.
Suzanne didn’t wait for the elevator today. She opened the bottle and tossed it back like a tequila shot her roommate always did back in her college days. She did a quick bout of remorse that she hadn’t had more fun in college.
Determined, focused, she made her way up the flights of stairs to her office. She chastised herself for not locking her workstation before leaving and then poured herself back into her work. The effects took a shorter amount of time to kick in. She remembered that the last time she had sampled the drink; it had been about an hour before she felt the rush of energy. This time the effects where felt in 15 to 20 minutes. She had time to finish her revisions, eat her lunch and even get half way through some of the budget sheets that had been stacking up in her in-box.
Suzanna read the word again. “In-box.” She felt a sudden rush as her blood left everything higher than her nipples and headed south. Her sex slickened with arousal and she let out a little yelp when her hand had strayed to her left breast. I’ve got an in-box for ya. The joke made Suzanna giggle. She didn’t normally giggle, but she wrote it off to the fact that it was a surprisingly funny joke. Suzanna had never been known for a sense of humor. Wit, maybe…but not comedy. She appreciated comedy; she just wasn’t very good at it. Eventually, she could silence the giggle, but it took tweaking an aroused nipple.
Even though she tried to refocus her eyes on the lines of black and red numbers, her brain would not allow it. She pushed a hand deep between her thighs and pressed at her womanly junction. She was really wet.
It was the kind of wet that just diddling her moist button wouldn’t soothe. She needed penetration. At home, her trusty rabbit vibrator would have saved the day. Here at work, she was at a loss for how to overcome the growing need in her pussy. She pressed with her hand and rubbed her legs together, but that seemed to make the situation that much worse, that much more…dire.
Without remembering to lock her computer again, Suzanna dashed like a crazed woman for the bathroom. She nearly knocked over one of her male associates, Mr. Thomas Fisk, in the hallway. He turned and watched Suzanna bolt through the bathroom and made a mental note to talk with his boss about Suzanna’s behavior.
She burst through the door and sat on the toilet. The heat grew inside of her. Her breathing was shallow. Wicked thoughts filled her mind. She freed her hair from the ponytail tie.
Suzanna spread her legs and, without a thought, lifted her sweater up. The striped black cotton sweater bunched just above her breasts. Suzanna had never really been into tit play. Her last two female lovers had seemed to enjoy sucking on her tiny nipples, and because they seemed to enjoy themselves Suzanna let them continue. But here she was, sitting on a toilet, at work, with her sweater pulled up freeing her bra-clad breasts.
The frustrated woman pushed her legs together and tugged down her underwear. She popped her breasts out of the purple bra cups. She looked a sight of womanly lust, one hand playing with her moist lips, the other tugging on a small nipple. Suzanna reclined on the basin and it gave her pause to examine her body.
My nipples are too small. My hips too narrow. The hand between her legs sped up and she alternated rubbing her clit with dipping her fingers into her honey pot. Come to think of it, my boobs aren’t exactly eye popping. Her firm B Cup breasts had never bothered her before, but right now she felt nearly inferior, and that inferiority was fueling this sexual fire.
Her head tossed in arousal as a delicate finger traced patterns on the inside of her sex. Maybe a new hair color? Suzanna thought when her hair fell into her eyes as she thrashed about the toilet seat. That elusive orgasm suddenly approached. The hand between her legs had seemingly made the decision by itself to now stuff four fingers into her hot, needy sex. Fuck this dyke shit! I need some cock! With that thought Suzanna crested the mountain top of her arousal. The orgasm shook like earthquake through her body and the tremors continued long after.
After a few moments of labored breathing, Suzanna collected herself. She pulled up her panties and shoved her breasts back into the bra. She pulled the sweater down taught. Standing, Suzanna noticed that there was a lot of moisture on the toilet seat and rim. She grabbed some toilet paper, matted it up and flushed. Suzanna had never known herself to be a squirter, but she wrote it off to the tremendous orgasm she had just achieved.
She opened the door to the stall and on wobbly legs made her way to the sink. She washed her hands and face. She did a minor pose or two and confirmed her earlier thoughts about her physique. She walked out of the ladies room with her hair down and a huge grin on her face.
Suzanna’s work day did not proceed normally after her long liaison in the bathroom. She couldn’t concentrate at all. After giving up on the budget analysis, she hopped onto the internet to read some stupid mind filling celebrity gossip. Who’s cheating on who? Who’s engaged? Who’s pregnant? Suzanna smiled. It must be a lot of fun to get paid to look good, date good looking people and ultimately have good looking babies. She sighed audibly and decided that she wasn’t doing any good by being at the office. She shut down her workstation and left for home.
* * *
Suzanna was late the next morning, but this time it didn’t really seem to bother her. She had spent the necessary time to brush and style her new red hair into perfect tresses. On her way home she had picked up some hair dye. The color was labeled “Cherry Poppin’ ” and that had caused her to break out into a fit of giggles, much like her earlier encounter with the ‘in-box.’
She had sat in the tub relaxing as the new color set. Her hands constantly moving, restless to the core. First her nipple begged for attention, than her juicy clit. She just couldn’t seem to make her whole body satisfied. She had achieved two low level orgasms just relaxing in the tub, waiting on her hair.
After washing out the dye (a process that was made much longer by the feeling of hot water rushing across her breasts) she sat on her toilet and grabbed her moisturizer. Before applying any of cream, Suzanna had to do a double take. Her skin was immaculate. All the blemishes and unevenness that she had dealt with for over ten years seemed to have disappeared. She put the lotion back and decided she didn’t need it. And when was it that I remembered to shave?
As Suzanna sat in her office chair, twirling a lock of red hair, she felt her eye lids droop. She still hadn’t got a good night sleep. She had went to bed early after nearly tiring herself out with all the orgasms she had. Her dreams were erotic and they caused her to thrash about the bed. She kicked comforters and sheets to the floor and rode pillows like imaginary, endowed strangers. There was so much cock, cum and fun that Suzanna was always irritated when she woke before seeing how her imaginary orgies finished.
When she woke to chirping of the seasonal birds outside her apartment window, she knew she was already late. She was made later by the fact that instead of being able to throw on just anything and hit the door, none of Suzanna’s wardrobe seemed to fit right. Her bra seemed tight, but she delighted in the effect of her boobs reaching high over their demi-cup confinements. It gave her cleavage, enough that the boys would notice. She had grabbed her lowest necked shirt and put it on, the effect was awesome. Her pants also had felt tighter than usual. She had a particular hard time pulling it over her rear end.
Somehow without the aid of pliers, she stuffed her butt into the jeans and put on a pair of heels.
She combed, blow dried and styled her hair, all the while admiring the new person she saw in the mirror. At last, she looked…sexy…enough to go to work.
Suzanna had managed to stay awake at her desk by opening up multiple web browsers. One had a catalogue of pink, red and black shoes, all heels of course. Another had clips of pornography from a free hosting site that she didn’t know how she had known the url. Her fascination today was mainly girls swapping enormous cumshots between their bee-stung lips and letting the spermy spend drip onto gigantic tits.
Strangely enough, the third browser window was a small local boutique’s website. The boutique sold maternal wear exclusively.
Suzanna tried to keep her eyes jumping from one window to the next, but eventually it just made her tired. Just as her head was about to smack into the keyboard in front of her, she remembered her savior. The energy drink stuff from the guy downstairs!
The absent minded middle-manager forgot to close her computer down as she sped off for the elevator. She left all three non-work related windows on her screen, large enough that her boss, Mr. James Stevenson, noticed them as he walked by.
Suzanna bolted through those familiar glass doors like a panicked person escaping a fire. She stole glances in all directions and finally spied her favorite vendor. She ran off towards his van, nearly breaking both of her shoe’s heels in the process. She arrived in front of the window, stopped, put her hands on her thighs, doubled over and breathed hard, long runner’s breaths. “Gimme….one….those…energy drinks,” she said between gasps for air.
The overly suntanned man peeked out the window. When he spotted Suzanna, he was so shocked that he dropped to the floor under the window. This never happened before. He peered just over the sliding window’s ledge. The man saw a woman, twitching in place like she was in line for a stall in a restroom. Her hair was a bright red, much different than the dishwater brown it had been yesterday. Her breasts looked a slight bit bigger.
The nipples were definitely more pronounced. The salesman mustered up his courage and walked out the back doors of the van. He met her with one of the tiny drinks in his hand.
“It’ll be $20 this time.” He snorted. It was mostly false bravado, inside the man was terrified at what he would have to tell the drink’s creator.
“Sure…sure. No problem.” Suzanna tried to wedge her fingers into the butt pocket of her jeans. Her posterior would not make enough room for her to get her fingers into the pocket and fish out the bill. She rotated to the man, “Maybe, you could get it out for me?”
The overweight male stared at Suzanna’s pert butt. It was definitely much better looking than the first day he laid eyes on it. It was fuller, rounder; it stood taller. He held out a shaking hand and slowly approached her ass. When his calloused hands made contact with her jeans, Suzanna cooed audibly. The man almost took his hand back in fear. Instead he quick motion and shoved two of his round fingers into the pocket.
With the new stimulation of his fingers rubbing against her rear, Suzanna juiced between her thighs instantly. She fought hard to keep her knees from buckling from the erotic thrill that coursed through her spine.
“Can I g…g…go now?” Suzanna pleaded with the man.
“Um, sure thang, Miss,” the man replied.
Suzanna made a beeline to the glass doors and the salesman reached quickly for his cell phone. The creator would need to be informed.
* * *
Once inside the confines of the building, Suzanna tilted her head back and poured the delicious drink down her throat. It didn’t spend enough time on her tongue for her to gauge the taste. She was just glad she wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon.
She bounded up the stairs quickly, giggling to herself the whole way up. She was just about to make it to her desk when Mr. Stevenson stopped her. “Ms. Briggs, how could you think that what you are wearing is appropriate office attire?”
The blonde looked down at herself. She hadn’t noticed but since her consumption of the little bottle of goodness, her breasts had made a break for daylight. They hung low on her chest, two tremendous globes of flesh, spherical and delicious. Her bra had given up sometime around the third flight of stairs. Suzanna also noticed that she was feeling a slight gust of cold air on her hot pussy. Upon inspection, she discovered that her jeans had torn under the strain of running up the stairs and the sheer magnitude of her swollen ass. The seams were splitting and her sex was feeling drafty. Unfortunately for Suzanna it wasn’t enough of a breeze to quell the fire burning inside her.
“Umm, like, I’m sorry that my boobs…I mean…my shirt.” She said surprised. Was my voice always that high?
“Well, I would send you home to change, Ms. Briggs. But I’m afraid of what you might choose to wear instead. Mr. Fisk informed me that your behavior at the office has become…irratic.” Mr. Stevenson stated while calmly removing his glasses.
What a hunk! thought Suzanna. Fisk isn’t too bad himself. Great body. She decided to make her move on Mr. Stevenson. The craving for cock in her needy pussy was getting too much for her to endure. She flirted with him, grabbing his tie and batting it playfully against his chest. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Stevenson. And please call me Summer, Suzanna Briggs is something for my business card.”
“Ok, Summer. I’m not sure a simple apology is going to do it. Not in this situation anyway.”
“But, I promise…I promise to make it up to you…and Mr. Fisk.” Summer put on quite a display. Batting her growing eyelashes and joining her hands together. Her breasts swelled, pushed together and leapt out at him. “Oh, my…look what happened Mr. Stevenson.” She flirted back to him. She could tell he liked this attention; he was getting hard. Mr. Stevenson watched her breast swell in front of his eyes. He wasn’t sure if Suzanna, now Summer, noticed, but he was pretty sure that she didn’t care.
“Those are quite nice, Summer. Perhaps we should take this into my office.” He gestured to the room in the corner with the big black couch.
“Totally.” Summer sauntered down the way toward his office. Each sway of her hip destroyed more of the jeans she was wearing. She felt cold, but she knew she was about to get things heated up.
Mr. Fisk stood a few feet away watching Stevenson and the growing nakedness of ‘Summer.’ Stevenson gave Mr. Fisk a non-verbal signal to follow him into the office.
* * *
“Oh, yes. Fuck that pussy,” Summer screamed from the corner office.
Mr. Stevenson continued pounding her from behind. He pushed those massive melons into the couch until they came back up under her chin. She loved it.
Fisk, who was recuperating in the chair next to the couch, had jerked himself back to full attention. He stepped up to summer, his erection bobbing. “Wanna suck it again, Summer, babe?”
“Sure thing,” Summer said arching her head up to get in line with his crotch. She swallowed his manhood deep. Saliva drenched him, obscene sucking noises echoed in the room. She pulled her head off of his prick, “but you guys gotta promise to cum in my hot cunt this time. No more tricks with all this cumming down my throat. Not that I mind, it tastes…oh…good and all, but…”
“Of course, Summer.” Fisk interrupted and directed the slut’s mouth to his cock.
“Will do, Summer!” Mr. Stevenson shouted as he grunted against her needy sex, his balls slapping against her. Her juices traveling down the insides of her thighs.
The determined slut blew Fisk like a seasoned professional. After a few intense deep-throats, she popped him out. “You close, Mr. Fisk?”
The man with closed eyes and his cock in the hand of the perfect bimbo slut could only nod.
“Goodies!” She looked over her shoulder at the hunk pounding her from behind, “Now cum, Mr. Stevenson. I need a big belly! Otherwise all those dang dresses I bought will be for nothing!”
After giving her perfectly bubbly rear a loud smack, the man who was assaulting her pussy let his torrent of jism loose inside her. He collapsed on top of her.
“Mr. Stevenson!” Summer pouted, “You’ve got to get up so Mr. Fisk can shoot his inside me too!”
The manager slowly rolled off of her back. His cock dislodging with an audible suction sound. Fisk did not miss his opportunity. He stepped up behind her, grabbed Summer by her ankles and tossed her onto her back. The thrill of spinning around on his dick caused a mini-orgasm to shake through her.
“That’s it Mr. Fisk. Shoot your stuff. Don’t you want to see my belly get big? And these tits,” she mauled her heavy boobflesh in her hands, “they’ll grow some more, and the milk.” Fisk could only respond with a whimpered cry. “Come on, Fisky-baby, knock up your slut, knock her up good.” She pursed her lips and kissed.
Fisk tried his best. Her excited utterances and pleas for pregnancy cause his balls to tighten and then shoot a healthy wad of potent baby batter inside her already full tunnel.
“Oh goodie!” Summer exclaimed. “I won’t even know whose it is! And no matter when it’s born, it’ll be a Summer Baby!”
Fisk fell weak kneed on top of Summer’s bountiful chest.
From outside the windows to Mr. Stevenson’s office the vendor and the creator stared on.
The vendor man had his baseball cap high on his head as he scratched his scalp. “I just don’t get it. Ain’t right. Ain’t usual.”
In a cold voice, a voice of that exuded an eerie calm, the creator replied, “Ours is not to question, Anthony.”
“Still, three! Nobody need no more than one before!” Anthony replied.
The creator waved his hand out to gesture at the three sweaty, sexual being in the office, “I don’t think Mr. Stevenson or Mr. Fisk will be complaining about the cost of our services.”
“I reckon I agree.” Anthony puzzled a moment, then spoke, “But I gots to say, I love her new name.” He watched as the bimbo put her hand over her sex in an attempt to keep all that was inside her from leaking out. “Ain’t no self respecting bimbo goes by Suzanna.”
“Hmmm…” The creator pondered aloud, “Maybe the reason it took three of my little trinkets to fully change her lies just there. In her name.”
Anthony looked stumped, “I’m pretty sure I don’t follow ya.”
“Oh come on, Anthony, you mean to tell me you’ve never heard that old saying, ONE SWALLOW DOES NOT A SUMMER MAKE.”
Anthony just shook his head.
The creator sighed and huffed his shoulders. He mumbled, “The culture of some people.”