I turn off the water and wait. Over the next 20 - 30 minutes I will putter around the house, cleaning, trying to calm down, trying not to think about what is next. I can still feel my cunt soaked. I read, hoping to lose myself in page after page, but every time I shift, I can feel my cunt. Every time I close my eyes, I can see the mouth I would gladly beg to kiss. Every time I try, I can feel the brush and tickle of your beard on my skin and hear the gravel in your voice as you encourage me to cum for you.
25 minutes passes achingly slow, and when the buzzer explodes through the silence, I am up and staring at what will be a fascinating experience.
The dildo, its beautiful blue swirls through the clear glass rippling slightly under the water, is heated and waiting, and will soon be buried to the hilt in my cunt. I fight to get it out, trying to hold my finger back, and then finally plunging it into the once-boiling water. I run the tip of my index finger over the shaft of it, sliding it under the cooling water, the way I would explore your cock.
I finally, tentatively pull it out. It warms and glows with heat, but not enough to hurt. I can already feel my heart race at what will happen next.
I settle back onto the couch, sliding down my panties once again. They have been slicked by the last 25 minutes of sitting in them, pressing my legs together and thinking about you watching me. I begin rubbing my clit, which is still sensitive from the orgasm only a half hour ago. I am almost surprised at how wet I still am, how much my pussy is still swollen, how much my clit remains aching.
I close my eyes, thinking about you watching me as I slide the almost too warm dildo inside my pussy. I wince just slightly as my cunt envelops the head and the shaft. I am stunned by the sensation, which teeters on the edge of pain and discomfort, but lives wholly within the bounds of pleasure.
I settle into it, sitting still, fingers moving slowly in circles on my clit. I adjust slowly, but I do adjust, and allow the heat to creep into my wet, soft flesh. I can feel it radiate, moving through the layers of skin and nerves, and though I am not being fucked, new sensations are still expanding through my body. My mind is whirring to try and place the new feelings, and all I can thinking is that, as my pussy contracts and pulses and tenses, this is what it would be like to pee and be fucked at the same time - a talent I have never been able to achieve.
The stiffness strikes me just as much. My pussy pulses around the unforgiving glass. While the firmness of your cock pounds me, the soft skin massages my own inside my pussy. I tense and you swell. I pump and you push back. This is not that, and I am fucking something solid and unrelenting on my cunt. The harder I try and fuck, the more I am being fucked.
I simply want more and more, and fuck myself harder and harder. I begin to twist, and the curve of he dildo touches and stretches everything inside me.
I open my mouth and whimper. And while I say whimper, I do not mean it is powerless. It is aching and writhing and begins from deep in my throat. It is soft but not strangled, rich but not overwhelming. It, much like every sensation, is yours. I fuck myself thinking of you, serving you, dreaming of you watching me, and knowing that even while you are there and I am here - I am yours.
I fuck myself harder than I expect. I fuck myself until I am sure that I will be sore tomorrow. While you are not here, the pain that I can feel tomorrow every time I sit down, the ache from a task that you give me will still remind me of you, and I will still smile to myself while I wince.
I cum, but this time it is un eventful. I will not lie and say it wasn't pleasurable - I cum, moaning and crying out to only the echo in my apartment and the neighbors who are unfortunate enough to hear it. I cum loud and I cum hard. But I did not ask you permission and so it means little and I almost feel undeserving. If I knew you less well, or if you were a different man - if my service meant more without my pleasure - I would have forgone cumming entirely. But that is not you, and I revel as much as I can in this solitary moment.
The ache tomorrow will mean much, much more than the scream of an orgasm tonight.
No comments:
Post a Comment