Getting back into this side of my writing life has proven to be a bit of a challenge. So just like back in the day I am jumping in on some blog hops. Masturbation Mondays is brought to you by Kayla Lords someone who I am definitely going to be digging into her posts. Without further ado..
She writhes in slumber, twisted by the visions that play in her dreams. Her body instinctively grinds against the pillows until she is forced to awaken to the empty bed and the still as a snowfall empty house. Rising from the tangle of twisted sheets and tangled blankets she wipes her face and goes to the table to smoke a cigarette. He has not forbidden her from self care but her levels are so high doing so only makes the ache worse, so she waits and takes long draws and watches the smoke drift upwards to the ceiling in its pattern of circles and twists. Her bottled water still where she left it she grabs it to quench her parched throat, fully aware of why she was so parched. He was the cause of it all. The pictures, the words, imprinted in her memory bank and playing out in her sleep that kept her from sleep.
Feeling the muscles relax, heading to bed, hoping to fall quickly into undisturbed nothingness, but the smell of her own arousal fills her nostrils as soon as she passed through her doorway. The rumpled sheets taunted her with the full color visions of him having been there only days before. Reaching for the side table drawer she pulls the small bullet from its home and decides to at least take the edge off if she is to have any hope of having sleep.
Pussy damp still, panties grinding against her clit, swollen lips, all of it set to bring her to her knees in agony and want. Keeping the small silver toy on low she glides it over her breasts, feeling the nubs of her nipples hard through the thin fabric that covers them, her free hand sliding down farther to feel of her wetness and need. Clit swollen she didn’t even need to look for its presence, hood back and so fucking sensitive to her own touch. Pink walls spasm like electricity has hit them with that first graze over the flesh of her clit and lips. Slow circles, not quite touching the most sensitive of places, she doesn’t want orgasm she simply needs to take the edge off, just the slightest bit.
Closing her eyes she can see him, arms straight as he holds himself over her and the blue green of his eyes staring into her chocolate brown ones. The tattoo on his right shoulder and bicep visible over the muscle as he strokes into her slowly. She can feel his warm breath upon her skin, the brush of his beard across her neck. So real she shivered at the memory, her walls throbbed at the thought. One leg pulls up to bend at the knee and ease her ability to reach the sweet spots, to tease her own body with flashbacks and auditory memories she clung to when he was gone from her.
Taking the toy down to find her clit, taking the edge off is requiring more than she had thought, or her pussy was simply being a bitch because that toy was not at all in its most wanted list. It wanted the feel of him filling her, the sound of her wanting slopping out of her like rain dripping from the roof and landing in a puddle below. Her mouth opened to slow her breathing, feeling the tingles as his memory invaded her thoughts, his voice in her ear, calling her His slut, His owned, His toy. The moan came slowly as the tingles continued up and down her frame. Like a million little needle pricks of electric were touching her at once and she had nowhere to run. Hips grinding, walls pulsing over and over looking for something to grip and finding nothing there, her edges coming so close before sliding away just a bit. The speed on the toy turned up, laid against her clit that she could feel her heartbeat in, staging her breathing to slow the build so when it came she could enjoy the ride.
Hips grinding against the bed below her, legs trembling, the first beads of sweat appearing across her neck as the flush of heat rose through her frame. The room was so hot, she had to pull the gown from her body letting the dampness that covered her shiver in the exposure to the true temperature of the air surrounding her body. Biting her bottom lip she held out, not yet, Jesus God not yet. She continued to tease and torture herself, getting right there before pulling back the toy, not sliding a finger in herself to push that envelope. Every muscle tensing with need and her hair damp and tendrils curled around her flushed face. The buzz of her cell phone beside her bed made her pause long enough to yell, Answer the phone to her home device. The crisp click of the speaker coming up and two words, ” Cum Slut” and she was done. Explosions of color in her brain as every circuit fired at once. The honey of her orgasm slid from her sticking to her thighs and sliding to the crack of her ass before hitting the bed below. Her voice an animalistic low growl in the room, echoed all around her. Finally pulling her hand from her swollen cunt and panting on the bed, fumbling to turn off the toy that was now dancing by her inner thigh.
“good girl,” Sir said through the phone, ” now sleep, you need your sleep.”
She stammered, body still twitching, nothing under her control yet except her voice, ” How did you know?”
“Because it’s mine and I know when what’s mine is awakened.” the soft click of him hanging up saddened her but she laid there in satisfaction and exhaustion. Sleep finally overtaking her, eyes closing as she drifted away, uncovered and spread open on the bed like a well played with rag doll.