Not edited,
Some mature themes - not explicit
AVA
Ava Sharpe was upset that day, work had been overwhelming and she hadn't seen Sara in weeks. They had gotten in an argument, Sara had been late to their dinner - again. They had lost the reservation and it had lead to a public argument. Little things had been building up over time, they hadn't spent much time together in ages - fleeting moments. Ava missed Sara but she couldn't swallow her pride, and she assumed neither could Sara, or maybe Sara was still upset with her.
She stormed into the training room in the Bureau, hoping to blow off some steam. She was emotional, aroused and generally frustrated all around. Two young employees were in the room, fists swinging, the smaller girl knocked her partner over, she swung over his hips, straddling him. He laughed and said "you won!" Before leaning up to kiss her. Ava let out an angry huff before whirling around and gliding back into her office.
She locked the door and closed the blinds, sliding into her chair, fingers to her temples. She couldn't ignore it any longer, she needed release. Beating her knuckles to a bloody pulp, and knitting wasn't doing it anymore. Sinking into her seat, she frantically reached down and unbuttoned her slacks, the image of Sara making fun of the polyester blend suit dancing through her mind, fingers reaching under her underwear, so close to the place she needed it most. Her hand paused, Ava Sharpe did not masturbate at work. Ava Sharpe did not masturbate. She re buttoned her pants, and got up to open the blinds and the door. She needed to take the possibility away and with her door open, she couldn't do anything.
Ava returned to her desk and began sorting through files. The paperwork didn't take her mind off Sara, and her soft smile and hard ass. For the first time, work didn't do anything to clear her mind. She couldn't focus, a tightly wound knot in her lower stomach, and gripping at her shoulders. Ava left the office early without telling anyone. Her fingers gripping her steering wheel, as she pulled into the parking lot of her apartment.
Ava slammed the door behind her, and pulled off her stiff pantsuit, dropping it on the ground, not caring about the mess that was building up. She threw on her running clothes, and plugged in headphones. She usually didn't run while listening to podcasts or music, but she thought the more distraction the better. Five miles later, besides the sweat that was dripping down her face, she felt no different. In the shower, Ava reached down once again and for the first time in weeks let her mind wander to Sara's naked body. To scars, soft curves, and hard muscles, to the freckles on her shoulders, and bruises on her knees. To the smooth skin, taught over her stomach, a rack of abs she loved to kiss. She imagined Sara's deft fingers, and the cold rings on them reaching down, and in that moment she heard her phone ringing, she jumped out of the shower as if the person calling her could tell what she was about to do. Her face flushed, and towel wrapped around her wet body, she answered the phone, still tightly wound.