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Karen sat in her small, neatly organized home office in Markham, staring at the endless sea of tiny video squares that made up the TD Bank weekly team meeting on her laptop screen. The monotonous hum of her colleagues' voices droned on, discussing spreadsheets and deadlines that she found utterly unstimulating. Her dark brown eyes began to glaze over, and she let out a quiet sigh, her petite fingers toying with the hem of her blouse. Her mind wandered to the previous weekend, when she had been anything but conservative. The memory of her lover's skilled touch sent a warm shiver down her spine, and she felt the beginnings of arousal stir within her. She glanced down at the time in the corner of her screen—only 15 minutes into the meeting, with what felt like an eternity to go. With a devilish smirk, Karen decided she had had enough of the tedium. She reached for the bottom of her shirt and began to lift it, revealing her small but perky breasts. The fabric whispered against her skin as she pulled it over her head, her nipples already pebbling with anticipation. The room was silent except for the faint rustle of her clothing and the distant murmur of the meeting she had long ago zoned out of. Her black hair cascaded down her back as she leaned closer to the screen, her full, dark lips parting slightly as she studied her reflection in the camera lens. With a flick of her wrist, she unmuted herself and announced, "I'll just be a moment," as if excusing herself for a bathroom break. She then muted the others, effectively silencing the cacophony of voices that had been her background noise for the last quarter of an hour. Without a second thought, Karen unzipped her skirt, letting it pool around her chair. She stood, revealing her landing strip pubic hair, which she had meticulously groomed the night before, and stepped out of the garment. Her dark plump labia peeked out from between her legs, already glistening with her arousal. Her hand slid down her stomach, tracing the curve of her hip before delving into the warm, wet folds of her sex. Her eyes fluttered shut as she began to rub her clit in slow, deliberate circles, her other hand reaching back to unclasp her bra, letting her small breasts bounce free. The sensation of her bare skin against the cool air sent a delicious shiver through her body. Her fingers danced over her tight pussy, teasing the entrance before sliding in, one and then two, feeling the slickness of her desire. The friction built, and she couldn't help the soft moan that escaped her lips. She was lost in her own little world, oblivious to the fact that her camera was still on, broadcasting her intimate moment to her entire team. The tension grew within her, coiling tighter and tighter with each stroke. She leaned back in her chair, her legs spread wide, and her feet up on the desk. Her small toes curled in pleasure, and she knew she was close to climax. It was then that she heard it—the sudden hush of her coworkers' voices, followed by gasps and muffled sounds of shock. Her eyes snapped open, and she looked directly into the camera, her cheeks flaming red with embarrassment. Her hand froze, fingers still buried deep inside her. With a horrified gasp, she realized that she had muted her coworkers, not herself. She had just given an unintentional, live, and very explicit show to her entire office. Her heart raced as she fumbled with the controls, trying to unmute her colleagues and mute her own video. But it was too late. Just as she managed to muffle the sounds of her own pleasure, she felt the unmistakable sensation of an orgasm approaching. Her body tensed, and with one final, powerful thrust, she squirted, the wetness spraying out from her, soaking her hand and leaving a damp spot on her chair. Her eyes went wide with horror as the realization set in. "Oops," she murmured into the live microphone, her voice filled with a mix of pleasure and mortification...
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