As Suzanne’s lips met hers Nia lightly brushed a hand across her glistening wet breast. The water was warm and she could feel it gradually making its way through her stockings onto her legs, permeating her knickers into the aching darkness of her pussy. Her blouse was still dry though Suzanne was leaning back into her embrace now, her wet back darkening the material that covered her breasts. Reaching to the side she picked up a sponge and soaked it. Suzanne sat forward and briefly covered her breasts before smiling slightly and relaxing. With a squeeze of the sponge Nia ran warm soapy water down Suzanne’s slender back. Suzanne was trembling slightly as she moved the sponge round to the top of her chest and let the water run down over her breast. As she reached round with her other hand to cup her other breast, squeezing and tweaking the nipple, Suzanne gasped gently, writhing her body slightly in the water. She turned her head to look Nia in the eyes and held her gaze fixed as Nia’s hand went lower, beneath the surface and into the pleasure below.
Suzanne’s pussy was a whole new world to explore. But this was an unexpected journey for Nia. What was no longer an ordinary Saturday night had begun as normal with the two girls preparing for their very different evenings. Their agreement when sharing the apartment was that first rights to the bathroom went to whoever had the higher rated evening ahead. A first date trumped all and this was what Nia was anticipating that night. She’d had a shower, chosen her clothes and then surrendered the bathroom to Suzanne. Suzanne had been unlucky in love for some time, a string of disastrous blind dates after the end of a long relationship. Nia seemed to fall into one satisfying relationship after another and tonight she was starting the latest one. She’d already decided how the night was going to go and her light blouse with no bra beneath was going to make this very clear to tonight’s lucky guy. But earlier that evening Suzanne had opened a crack in Nia’s world.
She’d returned to the bathroom to grab her moisturising cream. Suzanne was running the bath and seemed slightly startled as she came in, trying to conceal something. Nia wasn’t going to leave without seeing what it was and after some cajoling managed to persuade Suzanne to show her that it was a large red dildo. After the giggling had died down and she’d wiped away the tears of laughter Nia took the rubber cock in her hands and gave its head a kiss. Suzanne looked slightly uncomfortable as Nia realised that this wasn’t a new toy. “Oh well” she said, “now he’s had us both!” and dropped the fake dick into the water. As she walked out Suzanne had said “well, it’s just me and him again tonight then.” Nia had turned and fired back “unless you fancy a threesome! A bit of lesbian sex” There had been an odd pause before Nia returned to her room.
As she dried off and started to apply her moisturiser she’d felt unsettled. She had found herself imagining Suzanne with the sex toy, using it to tease herself, naked in the soapy bath water. She heard the squeak of the taps being turned off and Suzanne lowering herself into the bathtub. As she rubbed the moisturiser on the inside of her thighs she was surprised to feel the wetness begin inside her. She ran her hands lightly across her body, trying to focus on how she would unleash her date’s cock later that night. Her hand ran across her breast, the other down between her legs before both moved down there to perform the practised moves on her aching clit. She saw his eyes, that jaw, imagined kneeling down to unzip his fly – she could hear Suzanne moving in the bathtub just metres away, the water lapping over her freckled skin, was she using the dildo now? – she thought of his teeth gently teasing her nipple, his cock hot and hard in her hand – the dildo sliding into Suzanne…
With a start she composed herself and started to dress, pulling on her expensive panties then the stockings that were her weapons for tonight. A strange compulsion was tempting her to return to Suzanne, to join her in the bathtub. If she was dressed, then that couldn’t happen. Another sound from the bathroom, what was Suzanne doing? She was so horny now she had to put the fire out. She put her hand into her knickers and plunged fingers inside. As they slid into her wetness, she thought of the kiss she had given the dildo – had she tasted Suzanne? A lover had once taken his finger from inside her and put it in her mouth to taste. She took her fingers out of her pussy and put them in her mouth, the sweet taste drove her further into the depths of desire and she returned to work below determined to clear her head. In time she came. Surely that was that she thought as she pulled on her blouse. Her nipples were hard and poked through the thin material. This guy was going to get so fucked. He’d made her so horny she’d been thinking the craziest things.
To prove it, before she put on her skirt she returned to the bathroom and tapped on the door. “Come in” came the response. “Just checking you weren’t busy” she said and came into the room with her towel. Suzanne was sitting naked in the tub smiling at her. He body was more slender than hers, lithe and firm. Her face naturally pretty in or out of makeup. “No, he’s waiting for later” came the reply. Nia sat on the side of the bath and lightly touched Suzanne’s hair. She could control this, she was almost fully dressed now, the clothes were a barrier between her and the thoughts breaking the surface like an undersea volcano. “You don’t need a hand with him then?” – what was she saying? They’d only known each other for a few years but she treasured her friendship with Suzanne, was she going to destroy it? But Suzanne didn’t reply, instead she took her left hand out of the water and gently ran it along Nia’s stockinged leg. The water left a damp trail on the sheer material and Nia could feel a single droplet run down the inside of her leg. She moved her hand from Suzanne’s hair to caress her cheek, lightly kissing her on the forehead. She could still stop this. Suzanne looked up at her as her hand fell down onto her shoulder. With a smile she reached up with her wet hand and guided Nia down to her breast as she brought her face closer, lightly brushing Nia’s lips with her own. Nia could control this no longer. She lifted one stockinged leg up and into the water. The wetness seized her foot in a warm embrace and she followed it with the other. Suzanne’s eyes flashed with excitement as Nia lowered herself into the water behind her.
The situation was so deliciously wrong. She had her finger between Suzanne’s pussy lips, she was soaping her breast with the sponge and she was wearing stockings, knickers and a dry-clean only blouse in the bath. Neither of them spoke, neither needed to. As Nia investigated her with her hand Suzanne was nuzzling against her with her head, her hair sweet smelling and her lips deliciously soft. Nia took Suzanne’s breast in her hand again and lightly squeezed it. There was no forceful invasion like sex with a man but gently sensual mutual enjoyment. She could feel her wet blouse cling to her stomach and as she played with Suzanne’s tits it was as if she was inhabiting her body as she sat behind her. Any doubts that Suzanne wanted this were dispelled every time she held back in her touch as Suzanne brought her own hand up and encouraged her to press harder, to squeeze the soft flesh, to push her further into a shared pleasure. The duet continued now, each girl with one hand between Suzanne’s legs, guiding and surprising with every touch. Then Suzanne lay back into her and put an arm on each side of the tub giving Nia full control. She took both her breasts in her hands and kneaded them gently. Then she finally started serious work on her pussy. Her fingers were expert in driving herself wild and she introduced Suzanne to her technique. Suzanne was gasping in her arms now and Nia put a reassuring cheek against her face. Now she had one hand working below, the other back to squeezing the hard nipples, which Suzanne seemed to love. Finally, fully confident in what she was doing, she used both hands. Rubbing Suzanne’s swollen clit with one whilst the other started to probe deeper inside. The water lapped against Suzanne’s soft thighs and she came in a quivering gasp of soft flesh against Nia’s body.
They were in synchrony now. Working as one they both moved so Suzanne was seated on the edge of the bath, Nia kneeling in front of her. Nia looked at Suzanne’s skin glistening wet in the light. She was still half dressed, but she wasn’t finished with Suzanne’s naked body yet. She lightly kissed her inner thigh then moved towards her cunt. Many times she had watched a lover move hungrily towards her, as she was now hungry to taste Suzanne. She lightly licked her swollen pussy lips then started to feast on her. Her tongue found her clit and she began to drive her as wild as she had enjoyed being driven many times before by a man. Suzanne tasted different to her own juices sampled a short time before. As she licked her she felt something brush her wet stockinged leg beneath the surface. She reached down into the water to find the fake cock that had started it all. The threesome could finally begin.
Once again she kissed the tip of the dildo, then used the domed head alongside her teasing tongue on Suzanne’s pussy lips. Suzanne’s hands ran through Nia’s hair as her tongue and the red cock sent her into increasing spirals of ecstasy. Nia knelt in the water, still dry above the stomach, still keeping her body from Suzanne. Suzanne moaned lightly as Nia eased the cock inside her, licking and kissing all the while. Then she came again and Nia tasted her cunt as it shook with pleasure.
Now Suzanne took control. Pushing Nia back into the bathtub she felt the curve of her breasts with her hands through the thin blouse. Her fingers teased at Nia’s nipples and using the sponge she soaked the fabric so it was completely transparent. The feel of the wet blouse against her chest, Suzanne’s hands grabbing at her full breasts felt so good, Nia finally relaxed and lay back to enjoy her turn for pleasure. Suzanne alternated between kissing Nia on the mouth and flicking her nipples with her tongue through the wet clothes. Water droplets ran down her skin underneath, the wet shirt clung to her figure, Nia felt alive, her pussy ached for Suzanne’s attention. She lifted herself up to sit on the end of the bath, still wearing the soaked blouse, stockings and knickers. A sense of complete abandonment consumed her as her flatmate lightly touched her exposed upper thigh and then pushed her fingers against her cunt through the soaking gusset of her panties.
Eventually she pulled the barrier to one side and set about her with a lively tongue. As the waves of delight cascaded through her Nia ran a soaking wet stockinged foot along the arch of Suzanne’s back. As she breathed the wet blouse broke free and then clung to her skin again with each movement. Her pussy was wetter than she could remember, her whole body glistening with the water from their shared bath and Suzanne’s beautiful naked body sparkled in the lights as she consumed her. Nia stood up to allow her to remove her knickers completely and use her fingers to penetrate her, licking her exposed dripping flesh as she came in a barely controllable climax, water dripping from her blouse down her wet stockinged legs.
They sank exhausted into the bath together. Nia held Suzanne gently as she considered the excuse she would use to cancel her date. That would wait. For now the two of them lay in the warm water together, excited at the new path their friendship had taken.
THE END

Past the point of caring, she was going to destroy him with the molten heat building inside her. In her black, string bikini and sarong, she felt a power flush through her limbs she’d never felt before. She felt vital and strong, and more alive than she’d felt in months. And it was all Diego’s fault, from the telltale tremor in her hands to the nagging pulse of desire deep in her body’s core. It was his fault for walking into a room – for the way he turned eyes like wet obsidian on her – for the way the corner of his mouth pulled up in that wry, half-smile when he was pretending not to notice the way the air prickled with electricity anytime they were in arm’s reach of each other.
And now that they were alone in the flat her father’s company-owned, she was going to devastate him with all the burning delicacies her body had to offer.
The tingling had started four days before when he picked her up at the airport. He wasn’t what she expected the manager of her father’s office in Malaga to be. Nor could she imagine what he must have expected as he waited for the boss’s daughter to walk through customs, but there had been an unmistakable gleam of surprise in his eyes.
She was there for a sorely needed holiday. After the breakup with Michael, her father had practically forced her to go. He’d bought her ticket, reserved the company flat, and arranged for Diego to pick her up and show her around. She was an assignment from the boss, but she couldn’t be so out of practice as to mistake the look in his eye. Yet he’d been so agonisingly careful around her as if she were off-limits.
Yet the more time they spent together – sitting in cafes and restaurants – Diego taking her on walks through centuries’ old plazas – the more she was determined to obliterate his caution. There was something at stake. Something between them thick enough to slice, and it was bigger than either of their circumstances.
The moment he’d walked into the café forty minutes earlier in his beach shorts and that tortuously tight shirt, she knew it was now or never. They were supposed to go on a walk to the beach, but without exchanging a word over the direction they were headed, they headed straight back to the flat.
The moment the door closed behind them, the air-conditioned coolness of the room only heightened the sensation of heat rising from Lena’s skin. In the moment she had her back turned to him, listening to the sounds of him shutting them inside, she searched her spinning mind for the right words. She knew he saw the truth of the smouldering chemistry between them. It was too strong. But words failed her as if they’d been scattered to the four corners of the world by the brewing storm of her hammering pulse.
He touched her shoulder from behind and she turned into the space between his solid, beefy arms. Past the point of caring anymore, she leaned in to kiss him.
Diego was already leaning to kiss her and their lips fused in a damp collision. Denial crumbled to dust under the force of their mutual need. She whimpered into his open mouth while her hands skimmed over the tightly muscled form beneath his clinging shirt.
Large hands roamed over the silken surface of her arms and shoulders, finally over her back and down her torso, bare but for the scant interruption of the bikini string. God. He was finally touching her the way she needed. The way she knew he needed just as badly.
When the kiss broke, it was only for their mutual need to breathe, but those eyes that had plagued her dreams these past few nights were scant inches away. He gazed back at her steadily while the light pulse of his breath grazed her lips. His hands slid across her ribcage until he was touching her breasts through the skimpy fabric of her bikini, the pads of his large thumbs brushing back and forth across the rigid points of her nipples.
“I’m taking you, Diego,” she finally said, romantic sex plaguing her mind. “You can’t play your Mr Manners game with me anymore. I’m taking you as if I’m entitled, whether I am or not, and there’s not a damn thing you can do about it.”
“Is that so?” he replied in his heavily accented English.
“Oh yes. You’ve teased me long enough. It’s time to make you pay for your arrogant little sins.”
Her nipples grew harder and throbbed under the steady brush of his thumbs, yet there was still an air of hesitation in his touch. His fingers never moved to push underneath her bikini, only serving to send that flame burning in her core higher than ever.
He snickered. “I don’t think so,” he said, tweezing her nipples between his thumbs and index fingers. “Besides, it’s supposed to be the other way around. The man takes the woman.”
“Not today,” she said, her hands cupping the tight pecs bulging through his shirt. “Today you’re just going to have to put aside all those macho notions. I know you want me, but you’re going to have to deal with me claiming you or you’ll never get another chance.”
Lena had never spoken to a man that way, and in the end, she didn’t even mean it. Michael would have looked at her as if she’d lost her mind. But Diego was looking at her as if he’d just been served a woman-sized piece of strawberry shortcake, dripping with cream.
“You talk like a spoiled rich girl who needs to be spanked.”
Lena felt her eyes water and her face flush with heat. She didn’t know whether to slap him or rip his shorts off. He squeezed her nipples harder and her pussy flushed with agonising heat.
“Maybe I am, and maybe I do.” She grabbed his wrist and pulled him toward the sofa, shoving him backwards. “But there’s only one way you’re going to find out…and this is it.”
In a deft flick of her wrist, she loosened her sarong and let it fall. Then she climbed onto the sofa, straddling his hips. She leaned down to kiss him again while she reached behind to untie the top of her bikini, exposing her aching breasts as she ground her pussy against the prominent bulge in Diego’s shorts.
She didn’t think it was possible to taste enough of his mouth or get enough of the feel of their tongues dancing between their parted lips. His hands grasped at her hips, savouring the feel of her skin as they moved to clutch the shapely spheres of her ass. When she finally rid herself of her top, she reared upright, letting the stiff-pointed teacups of her naked breasts hover in his face.
A guttural moan rose from his throat as his hands slid from her ass to cup and squeeze her breasts. He lay back only long enough to let her unbutton his shirt before rising up to taste her breasts. She could feel the painful strain of his cock inside his shorts while he nuzzled her body with his face and hands, his tongue wetting her nipples.
Somehow, even trapped under the clamp of her thighs and pussy, the power of his desire was rattling the façade of her alleged control. His hands were strong, caressing her firmly, and the insistent press of his cock through the gusset of her bikini was causing her to soak through the fabric.
She pulled his shirt off his shoulders and pushed him back down against the plush cushions. Moving further down his legs, she untied his shorts and pulled them lower as he lifted his ass. Her heart raced when she saw the beautifully thick, sturdy cock snap up against his taut belly.
She pinned him with her eyes as she leaned down and took his impossibly hard flesh in her hand, drawing him upright to lower her mouth toward his oozing dome. He moaned the second her breath hit him. She’d never had anything so thick inside her mouth before, but the throaty growl he released as her lips enclosed the head made her feel there was nothing she couldn’t do.
Suddenly her mouth was full of rich, tangy flesh. With her hand wrapped around the base, she kept her eyes on his wincing face as she stroked the upper half of his cock with her moist lips. He groaned deeper, harder, reaching for her face and brushing her dark, luxurious hair aside as he gazed at her sucking his cock.
Feeling his eyes on her as she stroked his shaft with her mouth only made her pulse beat harder and faster. The broiling emptiness of her pussy was clawing at the walls of her consciousness. She might have sucked him until he filled her mouth with his cream, but she realized she was the one who could only take so much more.
She finally released his pulsing cock from her mouth, pulled his shorts the rest of the way off and yanked off her bikini bottom. His eyes were constantly on her as she moved back over him to sit astride his hips. Holding his cock in place, she finally lowered her smoothly waxed pussy onto his rigid shaft.
They groaned at the same time, and he pulled her forward to kiss her as she began to ride his length with the rocking drive of her hips. He clutched her ass tightly, pulling her open as he met the rock of her hips with his thrusting cock.
She felt the power in his hips, in the unrelenting push and pull of his impossibly thick cock while he kissed her with a hunger that made her head swim. She started to cum, but he held on, holding back his explosion as he drove into her deeper and faster.
Finally, he rolled, taking her with him, until she found herself lying beneath him. His cock was still embedded deeply in her pussy as he gazed down at her. She was no longer the boss’s daughter. No longer some obligation to be fulfilled. She was his. The essence of who she was and everything she desired belonged to him as he drove his throbbing stalk deeply into her body.
The slick, see-saw friction of his solid girth was turning her into some raw, writhing thing. Some helpless organism fed on its own needs and desires. Just as she felt the telltale ripples of another climax, he reared upright and pulled his cock out of her body, leaving her panting and inflamed.
“I want you from behind,” he said simply.
Between his growling tone and wild look of need, she couldn’t speak. She took one, lingering gaze at his cock as it stood up, glistening with her honey, then she rolled over and tucked her knees under her body, raising her ass for him.
He clutched and squeezed at her cheeks while his wet cock ground back into the sheath between her swollen sex lips.
“Oh, fuck, Diego…yes,” she mewled as he thrust hard and deep into her pussy.
“Show me how you like your rim touched, dirty little rich girl,” he growled.
Lena’s eyes watered. Her pussy wouldn’t stop rippling from within as he drove her hard to the edge. Her heart was pounding as she reached back between her own cheeks fingered her rim. Despite his nasty words, she felt anything but dirty. She felt beautiful, and the dire force of his needful thrusts proved how desired she was beyond anything she’d ever known.
As she started to cum, Diego gripped her hips and thrust with a force that rocked her entire body. His fat shank exploded with blossoms of wet heat inside her while he moaned and gasped for precious air.
When it was over, he slowly pulled his cock from her pussy, and they lay together on the sofa. It was a long time before either could speak, but the softness of his lips on her neck told her everything she needed to know.
“I guess I should’ve asked if you have someone,” she finally said. “A girlfriend…or…”
“No one,” he replied. And then he smiled. “But there’s someone I’ve got my eye on, and she’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen.”
THE END

Never has my front door looked so lovely, so promisingly gratifying. What a damn day. I scuttle along as quickly as I can, noticing the flowers in both pots flanking my front door are drooping. Well fuck. Geez. Forgot to water them this morning before work. I burst through my front door, my nerves a frazzled web of knots caused by so many things: the busy day at work, forgetting to text my friend back, the world choking the calm out of me. I need some me time and I need it now.
I draw in a slow cleansing breath of cool, conditioned air. I’m blessed with an inkling of happiness. First steps are important.
Without even thinking, I drop my laptop bag on my coffee table next to this morning’s empty cup. My head is so packed with problems I might implode. Rumours at work about a reorganisation haunt me. By next month, I might be interviewing for a new job. I rake my fingers through my thick hair. Fuck-nuggets I’m dying for the buttery explosive bliss of orgasm release.
I take a step, trying not to run because my garden calls to me. It’s like a dream asking me to sleep, or sleep from the day’s stress that is. But, honestly, it’s more the opposite of sleep I will be gifted with in my orgasm garden. A name I took to calling it after first having some of the best self-pleasure orgasms of my adult life there where nothing exists but me.
As I walk past the sliding glass door, the pink and white blossoms beckon me. Their full petals swollen like labia lips, the pistol of the bloom the excited engorged clitoris. Pussies are as beautiful as flowers, juicy, soft, wet, fragrant. The green leaves are succulent and inviting. There is an elegance in the way they’ve all grown together, like someone knitted them all into a plush blanket, like a still life mingling of vegetation, confluent with aliveness.
I slip off my heels. Relief floods me as I work my toes into the plush carpet. My skin practically begs to be bared of my stockings. My breathing rate is already increasing as I start to unbutton my shirt, grazing my fingers along my chest down to my cleavage.
I shake my hair and smile. Self-seduction has begun.
My desire raged on the drive home, my libido thickening with each mile I drove. Like a wild beast, I had pounded my fists on the wheel as frustrated shrieks flew from my mouth. I was fucking horny! I couldn’t get through traffic fast enough. Every speck of me yearning for my own all-knowing pleasure-seeking touch. Thoughts of a full-blown orgasm, or twenty-five, danced in my brain like fat squishy cherubs ready to burst. The tease had been torturing me all the workday. Oh, the multitude of thoughts that had tormented the sexually hungry and demanding woman I am that I’ve crushed down to my toes all day long.
Well, no more. Soon I’m claiming ownership of my sexuality. It’s mine.
Memories of my best orgasms pull me along. My fantasies enchant reality making it swell with the promise of a good self-seduction fuck. It will happen, I know it, I feel it.
I open each button on my way down to baring my front top half to my waist. The fresh air bathes me as I draw in a deep invigorating breath, my head back, my chest rising then falling rhythmically. Nipples pulling tight and erect with the thoughts of climax saturating my wanton brain.
I pull my arms out of my sleeves and allow my shirt to fall to floor. Getting naked for myself is a luxurious ritual I love. My hands press the plush pillows of my generous bosom, my curves literally begging for my touch.
I meander my hands inside my bra. My areolas further gather my nipples into their mean peaks as I caress them. They practically blink red, open for business.
“Mmm,” I moan as I play with my erect nips. I need this. I deserve this. These next moments are mine and mine alone to sink into. A bath of my own endorphins is just what I need.
Oh, fuck yes.
I had planted my flower garden to the max on purpose in my back yard with the hopes of sitting on my lounge chair overlooking a sea of flowers. My plan worked beautifully. Early mornings, with the first rays of golden sun hitting the blooms, and my skin, I’d sit and read, listen to music. In the evenings, I’d unwind after a hard day of being used, abused, and unappreciated at work. One day, it struck me how amazing it would feel to orgasm while lying in my Lady Garden, as I’d come to call it as well. So, I carefully laid down, disregarding how I may be crushing the blooms, knowing they’d want to give, to sacrifice, to my sensuous feminine energy and help bring me to glorious heights of carnal self-delight. It worked so well, it’s become my favourite masturbation spot.
It calls me now, as it does almost every day, to frolic in its frills and fronds, each plant touching the next so it’s a quilted flower bed of lovely floral fragrance, moist soft petals, an aroma of earthy stems and leaves. It’s the perfect wafting of nature. Each curl of petal and each tendril of leaf to touch, hold and caress, helps me build the erotic sensuality that gifts me such powerful stress relieving happy endings. Plus, I love how its gentleness cups my ass cheeks.
I unhook my bra. The formed cups cling to my curves so I have to shimmy to get it off. My grin deepens as I allow my fuck me eyes to bloom, gratifyingly for no one but me. The bra still clings to my body, so I give a final shoulder shake. Watching my ample breasts fully jiggle free sets my mood to the erotic. Time to do it. My bra falls in a pale pink clump on the ground with a slight plop. How satisfying.
I arch my back which bursts my breasts out, becoming the highlight of my vision. I unzip the back of my skirt in one quick swoop.
It’s naked time.
I push the skirt down my svelte hips. Once past them, it drops to the floor quickly. I take a step so my labia lips part and the fresh exposure to the air invigorates my pussy. It’s a breath of fresh air and the imminent burgeoning of release. Being commando everyday is a special treat I indulge in, and it only serves to deliciously accentuate my nakedness.
I stroll seductively through my living room, licking my lips and closing my eyes slightly as I run my hands all over my taut flesh. I shudder as I savour my own hands travelling my arms, shoulders, and neck. The stress of the day begins to leave my body in a slow trickle. I draw in a very long breath and release it even slower. A cleansing exhalation that pulls stress from me like pulling pesky weeds from my garden.
I place my foot on the wrung of the bar stool in my kitchen and hook my fingers under the top of my stocking at my thigh. I slowly complete the yummy dance of stripping my leg of the nylon. Removing them is a comfort in itself, not to mention a turn on, even that slight pressure gets old by the end of the day. I place my other foot on the bar stool and finish the strip tease. Now I’m fully naked and ready for scandalously yummy fantasies to rock my clit into wet fireworks.
I step outside nude and draw in another slow methodical breath to capture the essence of nature, to share it with my insides for a moment, bringing the outside in me. It coats me in freedom, in earthy cradling, my libido opening wide to the sky ready to receive pleasure as a bloom receives nourishing sunshine. I drop my head back and release a blood soothing sigh. All of me floods this space in time because it’s all mine. I carefully lay down amongst the blooms, their fragility conforms to my body as if a waterbed. Their plant power making my head float in my premonition of what’s to come. I’m going to have some real fun.
My lust smoulders as I nuzzle against the lush petals, their intoxicating fragrance blessing my nose. The green leaves press their plushness against my flesh in their feathered and bulbed plumes as I rest my hands below my bosom. The excitement of masturbation grips me like a tendril. Getting in the moment is easy. Natural.
The vegetation brushes my skin with ease, as effortless as the caress of wind. I savour the depth of my breathing, the moistness of the flowers against my fingers. The organised wildness of my garden mirrors the ordered stages of an orgasm, wild and free, an ordered process that is natural and instinctual.
All my stress blows off me as if dust.
At first caress of my belly, I am gifted an infusion of pure enjoyment. I quiver with ever-increasing want. Dragging my fingers along my skin sends me fully into pleasure mode. I’m instantly reminded what a wonderland my body is. I caress the mound of my pussy, my stimulation building. I massage the lips of my feminine core taking in breaths and releasing them, plucking my way along to my impending goal with each draw in and expel of air. The journey to climax is as enjoyable as the end.
The oil I saturated my skin with after my workout shower earlier has left my skin so soft, I can’t get enough of traveling my fingertips along my torso, nor can I stop myself from pressing my fingers to my mound. Oh, the soaking velvet beatitude of my genitalia that will help me surrender to the satisfaction of my twitching core. I’m giddy with anticipation.
I rub both breasts with my hands, loving up on them. I squeeze and fondle my breasts, cupping and pleasing my own desire to touch myself. I gasp and sigh as my arms hug me as they treat my skin with pressing touches. I am utterly relaxed, yet enticingly aroused.
I love being a force of femininity, an empowered vulva owner.
I boldly press between the cleft of my mound. I gasp. The delicious surprise of the initial touchdown of finger to clit never ceases to amaze me. It’s as wonderful each time as if it’s the first. It’s not less than. Ever.
My pussy juices coat my finger as I rub and play with my clit and vulva. My breathing is ramping up. I press my lips together, open my mouth, lick my lips as I ready myself for all my hormones to send my body soaring.
It’s all about worshipping my clit, in certain moments imagining my lover pleasuring me selflessly and others focusing on myself alone, as I stroke my swelling flesh that is so packed with nerve endings I get to fly inside my own body.
What a perfect gift it is to be a woman.
I drag my moist fingers up my stomach. They have more fun to deliver across my nipples. I run my touch around the areola of my left breast which arouses me further. Groping my breasts my desire flares. Nipple stimulation tugs at my pussy and I want more. I don’t just crave it; I need it. I stimulate my nipples a bit more, but I can’t resist reaching for the golden pot that is my cunt. I grin devilishly at the dirty talk, cherishing my ownership of it.
With one hand on tit, I ride my nipple while my other hand works my cleft to unearth my precious wet bean, the gift at the head of my clitoris. My clit is properly thickening as I explore. This is going to be an epic play time.
My pussy deserves both hands. Ah the bliss of ten fingers alternating their perfect pressure on my groin is luscious. I press, rub, fondle, and anoint other parts of my cleft and vulva with the juices of my womanhood.
My breath catches as I swiftly ascend the hill to climax. It’s going to be a quick rise this time and big finish. I can feel it’s looming embrace, its consuming hands hugging my consciousness completely helping me seize the moment.
I will come soon.
I press my fingers into my folds and gasp loudly. It’s coming closer, that scrumptious gift of orgasm. I’m breathing heavier as my fingers slosh in my wet snatch. My pussy releases more fluid and I run my middle finger along my swelling clit to fuck it. My body twitches as I press two fingers inside my vagina. It’s an amazing feeling words can’t own. It’s heaven itself.
I aggressively finger fuck myself. I’m a good girl. I don’t stop. I hand ride my pussy, one hand caressing my clit, the other plunging it to please my insides, basting my G-spot in precious arousal fluids. I’m so wet and I’m using that wetness. This ride is mine. I’m my own pleasure Dom.
The squish sounds of my aroused loins add to my rise. I’m almost there at the top, where that explosive power will send me into relief inducing body shakes. All the day’s tension will be lifted away like the expelling of my used breath. I literally can’t wait.
I shove my fingers inside me, I molest my groin riding up that cloud nine hill. I teeter at edge and plunge into the sweet release of orgasm. My body jerks as my vagina contracts on repeat. Each convulsion of my vaginal muscles sends waves of endorphins throughout my body. The spasms are so strong they are almost painful, but only for a second. That gift of my vaginal muscles clenching is like no other feeling on Earth. I’m flying as my body twitches and undulates along the pure bliss of coming. It’s beyond heaven as the orgasm keeps going as if a plateau with pleasure peaks. It’s a state of mind only nature can provide. I smile through my sighs, cherishing each second on my orgasm trek.
Joy spreads across my face as I recall leaving my vibrator here yesterday. How smart was I, though I didn’t know it. I dig in the flowers for my favourite toy and pull it out. What a gift! Oh, this is going to be so good.
I switch on the button and the wand vibrates in my hand. I press it to my clitoris and shudder out a moan. Oh, so good.
I gasp as I gyrate my hips to feel as much of the vibration as I can. It’s the art of that right pressure at the right spot at the right speed and I’m off on my way to another orgasm. The play gets even better as I step into my favourite fantasy with that favourite person doing nasty yummy things to me.
I grasp and pinch my left nipple. Fuck that feels good! I groan as I play my sexual organs like an instrument. I whimper as I charge up my rise. My scenario plays in my head like a movie. Yes, do that to me. Please.
Oh, the sweet torture of an extended climb to climax, I edge myself by lifting off pressure of the toy, then reapplying it to the strength of my desire. This one will surely be even bigger. I drop my head back as I thrust the vibrating tool against myself. My body twitching as I get nearer the peak.
My panting increases. My body jerks with each press onward. I release a slight whine as my face falls into an expression of helplessness. It’s got me and it’s not letting me go. My moans increase as my vulnerability grows, my gasps fill in between. It’s coming and it’s gonna be big. It’s going to be epic. It will be stellar.
I give in to it.
My body jerks and convulses as the orgasm ravages me. My head falls back, my back arches, my feet raise off the flower bed. My fingers clench; my toes curl in the air. My eyelids close slightly and flicker. I’m rigid yet moving at once. I coast it for all it’s worth before the calming drift down envelopes me. I’m lost in it, yet found.
Big sigh.
I’m wiped out after that one, sleepy in the best sense possible.
I smile. It was an unforgettable one I will relish the memory of. The yumminess of it consumes me as I come down closer to baseline from the fulfilling high. But now the baseline is so much better than before. It’s a sweet surrender I soak in like a warm bath.
The ending of it all is just as perfect as the rise though filled with peace rather than urgency. I can’t resist revisiting my crotch once more. Then I raise my arms above my head and lay them back in the soft foliage.
We fit, these gorgeous plants and me.
The post-orgasm endorphins saturate all of me. I bask in it all. The air. The moment. The me time. The body throbbing.
The light breeze bathes my skin like perfect petals gently falling upon me. The ecstasy is real, and it completely fills me. Happiness is my paradise and I get all the glory. The high is intoxicating, and I own it. It’s all mine. I’m transported to my soul’s gloryland as I close my eyes. Another round of epic self-pleasure is just what I need. Let’s go again…
The End

Lorna has a new boyfriend. Wait, she can’t really call him that. No, it’s much more casual, more realistic to say Paul is a lover, or maybe even just a distraction. But it is certainly different to any other romantic diversion she’s had. This is because he’s kinky, really rude and dirty-minded. Yes, something rather indecent has developed. But it’s refreshing, freeing, almost empowering, she’s absolutely loving it.
After their first date, a night filled with penetrating looks, building lust and suggestive glances, they’d ripped each other’s clothes off in the hallway when they got to her flat. They’d fucked hard, furiously and noisily against the wall.
She’s always enjoyed sex. A lot. But being with him brings this out of her in the most carnal way. It really has been hot, passionate and intense.
It surely helps that he’s attractive; tall, blond and has a bone structure to die for. But, more than this, it’s that he likes her to talk. He demands that Lorna tells him about her other sexual encounters, whispers in her ear while they are fucking and wants to know what turns her on. His sapiosexual kink manifests in how he begs her to regale him in lurid detail of all the other men she has pleased and exactly how. She is so turned on by this; it’s so erotic, such a thrill being able to share her darkest lewd memories. In the past, she’s felt slut-shamed for admitting how much she yearns for a good hard pounding and how often she thinks about it. He encourages this, celebrates her for it; he doesn’t think she’s deviant.
Lorna never knows when she’s going to see Paul next but, when she does, fireworks go off. She doesn’t ask him what he’s doing when they’re not together, and definitely not who he’s with. She already knows he’s a busy guy in demand; her friend who introduced them had warned her. But still, she waits to hear from him knowing it’s worth it. They rarely make it anywhere near the bedroom; it could be the kitchen table (such as that time which left her quivering and bruised), or up against the wall in a pub toilet, and once even in a park behind some bushes, their jeans around their ankles. It’s always fiery and fervent, there’s a chemical desperation in their want for each other’s bodies. And he always wants to hear what or rather ‘who’ she’s been doing since he last saw her.
He’s started to give her assignments too which she finds really naughty. She loves being told what to do and having wicked tasks to complete. Something deep in her psyche is triggered; an almost childlike desire to please and so she approaches her challenges with gusto.
This week, she has a new mission. Now that he’s heard she will be all glammed up and going alone to the Summer Ball he has given his command; she must seduce a stranger and fuck a guy outside, preferably up against or over a wall. And of course, he wants her to tell him every single smutty detail afterwards.
She is so full of excitement about the night ahead. Lorna’s friend, Cheri, who had invited her to the event, had promised lots of hot eligible men. She has the morning to prepare and decides to languish in a bubble bath, deliciously scented with floral oils. Sunlight streams in through the window and the water shimmers on her pert breasts. Her nipples pucker and peak with arousal as she is flooded with playful thoughts of today’s prospects.
Will there be a willing victim for me to pounce on and complete my slut-work for Paul… and for myself of course? she thinks to herself.
She is horny, excited about the idea of meeting someone she fancies. The flirtation, the build-up, the hunt… and hopefully getting some hot banging sex. Her hands move down her body, her wet skin is sensually silky. Before she knows it, her fingers have delved into soft pussy folds beneath the bubbles, finding her swelling clit. She makes slow teasing circular motions. Her hips thrust upwards and her legs slide open. The water slops over the edge of the bath as she moves rhythmically. The motion of her fingers speeds as she grabs a glass dildo she keeps by the bath for moments like these when overwhelming urges force her to masturbate. She sinks the glass inside her, its coldness is a shock making her emit sharp panting gasps. She thrusts it inside in quick short bursts while her fingers are still stroking her hardening little bud. It doesn’t take long before she shudders with an orgasm, her mind unravelling, submitting to her desire. Her breath quickens, her heart is pounding through her chest wall, head flung back against the cold enamel of the bath, as gradually she slips down liquidly into the overflowing cup of her pleasure.
After her delightfully liberating bath of self-love, she finishes pampering with lotions and shimmer applied to her skin but in a more hurried fashion now; she doesn’t want to be late for the car picking her up. Her wardrobe has many suitable options, but she wants to make a dazzling entrance at the party. Paul had helped her choose. He’d come over last night, adding to the complicit nature of their sex fantasy. He rifled her underwear drawer and told her which sexy lingerie he’d like to imagine her wearing while she pulls another guy. He’d selected a small black lacy set asking her to model them first. Then he fucked her with the knickers on, roughly pulling them to the side and thrusting her deeply with his rock-hard cock, but not before first pressing his tongue into her slit over the top of the lacy fabric. She hasn’t washed them since then; slipping on her already slightly sex-soiled panties makes her shudder with need. It’s filthy. Wrong. Almost taboo. It’s this kind of kinky sex that makes her wild with carnal aspirations. She is at the pinnacle of her feminine power and capable of anything.
Lorna steps down from the taxi, her long stockinged legs reaching into the glittering late autumn sunlight. The drive up the wide tree-lined avenue had been promising and she isn’t disappointed with this impressive vista; a huge sprawling country house stands grandly before her. Steeped in history with its Tudor gothic styling and opulence, imposing tall chimney stacks and black-leaded multiple squared windows blinking with the sun’s reflections. There is a small lake in front of it surrounded by exquisite floral planting; vibrant colours bursting forth the well-manicured beds.
One of the many smartly dressed servers in a crisp white shirt steps forward, balancing a tray of tall elegant bubble-filled flutes. She tries not to topple on the gravel in her expensive diamante heels and takes a proffered glass. Looking around she sees with delight a plethora of attractive, young, glamorous people all mingling, chatting and laughing.
This is going to be good! she thinks.
After a few enjoyable hours talking and flirting with people in these magnificent surroundings she finds herself being ushered to the tables for a sit-down meal. Her ‘challenge’ had been going well and she’d been laying some seeds that she hopes will come to fruition. The guys have been extremely attentive thus far. She scans around the table and smiles inwardly, there is real promise here. Cheri has done her proud; she is the only single woman at a table of seven men!
Hell yes! Let the dance begin, she muses.
If this was the animal kingdom gums would be flared, teeth would be bared, sharp claws pointed, fur standing on end. There is a contest simmering underneath each of these men’s every gesture. Palpable testosterone fills the atmosphere with manly intention pulsating around the table as the guys try their best to attract and maintain her attention. She feels a jolt of exhilaration as she sees the man to her left notice her put down her almost empty glass and reach for the wine bottle to refill it. A disappointed expression clouds his face as he sees that he is too late. The man two over on her right has beaten him to it. Victory flashes on the second man’s face as he pours some more wine slowly into the glass. He holds her gaze while one eyebrow raises with a suggestive cheeky grin. This man, Karl, had already impressed her earlier in the evening. He’d introduced himself as they’d chatted by a grand fireplace and greeted her again with an expansive warm smile and (entirely unnecessary) lingering handshake when they’d been seated. Points again to Karl now! She returns the grin and says thank you graciously.
This is going well, she realises these men are like putty in her hands, but she mustn’t drop her guard or assume a done deal. It’s all to play for but this tantalising tournament is really turning her on, her tiny black lacy panties dampening with her lust and the exhilaration of the chase. The man to her left tries again and passes her the bread basket but she isn’t interested in this overly earnest man of little substance. She’d already tried a conversation and found it, and him, lacking. The absence of charisma isn’t something she can easily define, it’s just not there. Intelligence and wit are just as important to her as looks.
But Karl, he is promising. He’d begun a conversation with her, effortlessly asking her about her job, her life. He makes her laugh; his eyes twinkle, and the outline of his taught lean body makes her blush privately as she imagines getting him outside to one of the many courtyards or the walled garden to un-pop those buttons and see what virile delight lurks beneath.
Will he be smooth chested? She wonders.
After the meal finishes, she sees him take out a vape and stand up. He winks at her and strides off in the direction of the door to the garden. She waits a few minutes then grabs her handbag and casually follows. On the way, she spies an unmanned table with flutes and bottles of bubbly. She impetuously snatches up a bottle and two glasses. This is utterly reckless, she is charged now, her sole mission crystal clear. This man is in her sights. She steps outside and looks around panicking slightly at first, as she can’t spot him.
‘Damn! Where is he?’ Lorna says under her breath.
Then she sees it. A tell-tale vape cloud trickles out from behind a wall. She saunters over and peeks around the rough bricks trying hard to appear casual. There is a little courtyard and a table where he’s placed his jacket and drink while he stands puffing looking effortlessly sultry, as he blows mists from his mouth.
“There you are! I thought you might be feeling thirsty…” she says, now feeling almost shy.
She swallows her nerves and advances. Karl laughs and leans forward, lustful intent on his face obvious as his hands encircle her waist. He is evidently expecting her.
“Fantastic idea, good girl,” he says, although his intoxicating eyes are doing most of the talking. “Do you know how hot you look? Fucking hell! I hoped you would come and find me.”
He walks her over to the table, sits her down and pulls her closer to him and they immediately start to kiss. Her excitement spills over, she giggles; it is infectious, and he laughs too. He grabs the bottle and opens it; his eyes penetrating her as he fires the cork off. They laugh again conspiratorially while they sip the drinks he’s poured, hardly able to tear their eyes from each other.
Yes, she’s made it happen! Lorna thinks gleefully.
She can’t wait to tell Paul, he will be so proud of her for moving this quickly.
As she drinks, savouring the softly fizzing bubbles popping on her tongue, she takes in Karl’s image. Like all the men at the ball, he’s scrubbed up. But he, in particular, has perfected a suave look and is breathtakingly handsome in his smart shirt and waistcoat. He moves closer and begins running his fingers up her thighs and she pushes her body towards him to give him a green light. His hands move higher and she opens her legs, allowing him to travel all the way and press her swelling pussy through her black knickers. They are completely alone in this little secret enclosure, however, the thought that anyone could discover them, interrupt and catch them in flagrante delicto, is electrifying. She doesn’t particularly know anyone here, so she decides she doesn’t care. The thrill of being found is definitely worth it.
They continue kissing passionately, his soft yet firm and masterful lips press against hers, his tongue explores her, teases her. She rocks her hips as he watches with wide-eyed delight as she thrusts herself onto his fingers wantonly. Her hand tracks down his body and begins massaging his cock through his trousers, his gasp is audible, as she deftly unleashes him.
An exquisite aroma of jasmine wafts down from the trailing plants growing over the walls, perfuming the air around them, its intoxicating scent adds to her heady arousal.
Yes! she thinks, getting sight of it; ecstatic to see his magnificent weighty member. Things are moving fast.
She takes his dick in her hand and starts wanking his shaft slowly at first then increases her tempo. He is still fingering her cunt, holding her little black sequinned dress up out of the way. They are really boiling for each other, their torrid passion intensifying.
“Yes, yes, I’m so wet now, please will you fuck me?” she pants into his cock.
He really doesn’t need any more encouragement. Karl pulls her up, turns her over and tugs her now dripping wet panties down. With one thrust he rams his dick home, plundering her gaping, glistening wet gash. She inhales loudly as he continues riding her deeply from behind. Her knees rub against the cold hardness of the marble table. He shunts her; she holds tighter, fingers turning white. She liked combat-wounds, an emblem of her filthy rutting, so a friction burn wouldn’t be a problem; she will wear it with pride like a slut with a strut.
Her long hair dangles free as the carefully placed pins dislodge. It flows liberally over her face and back as she grips the edge of the table even more firmly. Lorna is aware he can’t see her face. She likes this feeling of being hidden and that he is unable to read her expressions. Their fucking is animalistic, desperate and shockingly filling. It almost hurts, and she forces herself to breathe into the intense engulfing sensations and sees blackness and stars inside her.
“Fuck this is so good,” she pants.
She reaches around, holding onto her buttocks and provocatively pulls her own ass cheeks open enabling ever more pounding. He responds perfectly, and as they bounce together she marvels at how they’ve achieved such an incredible frenzied pace in so short a time.
Just as she reaches a crescendo he pulls her around to kiss him, forcing her body into him greedily, still with such frenetic hunger. Intuitively he knows how to prolong her shuddering delight. He drops to his knees and licks her cunt lavishly, luxuriating in her slick orgasmic juices and thrilling her throbbing button. She pulls his head into her and wet waves of exquisite magic wash over her. Above and around them twinkling disco lights seemed to be celebrating their secret union.
He sees her overcome with unbearable pleasure and swiftly stands up, briefly kisses her and fucks her again on her back, this time with one leg raised up. He smiles at this enhanced view of his turgid erection impaling her.
“This is fantastic!” Karl breathes to her, head strained back in absolute gay abandon.
She licks her fingers, playing feverishly with her sensitised clit while he continues thrusting. Her fingers slide down and surround his cock, squeezing as it enters her. Such intensity—he is almost going to come. She can see the building tension in his face and his taught body judders. He stops, pulls out, and sinks his face into her used wet hole. She holds his head and rocks into his face, her head thrown back in pleasure.
“Ohhhh, fuck that’s really good!” she gasps. “My turn now, I really want to taste you.”
He stands up and pushes her gently down to her knees. Her heart thumps as she takes his cock, delighting in sucking him and stroking him simultaneously, adoringly kissing and licking the glans, first slowly then faster. All the while Lorna looks up at him teasingly as he holds his shirt out of the way. She really loves sucking his marvellous appendage. She adores the feeling of power this gives her over him. He is really at her mercy as she showers him with her delectable dick-devotions.
A sudden thought of sharing all of this with her other lover, causes a surge of fiery heat in her thighs to travel and land in her groin. She tries to focus on being in the moment; to memorise every delicious detail of this clandestine liaison. She has designs to weave every sordid second into a scintillating tale to relate to Paul.
Despite this aim to stay present, she realises she is in fact lost for a few moments and now finds she is on her front again. Karl has turned her over and is rutting her from behind. The cold marble of the table presses into her face, the coolness somehow grounding. He really humps her hard and she presses her hips back into him, taking him deep. She has become a cavernous vessel, only there to submit and be filled up with his manly assaults. This thought turns her into quite a frenzy as he uses her dress to pull her towards him. It’s in the way, so he swiftly pulls it off. Carefully chosen by Paul now discarded by Karl.
For the finale, he flips her onto her back and again fucks her rampantly as if she is unbreakable. He is close. So close. He slows and watches while she rubs herself, totally absorbed in sublime pleasure and arching her curvaceous back. The sight of her is obviously too much, he can’t help it. He rams harder then finally jerks out and rains his come down, copiously covering her inner thigh and ass.
He kisses her as he recovers the power of speech.
“Wow! That. Was. Incredible!”
Karl still looks blown away by her. He fixes her eyes and smiles that addictive smile. This was better than she could have imagined.
“We probably should join the party…” Lorna gasps, still out of breath.
“Erm, maybe yes…” he replies with a cheeky suggestive look that tells her he has other ideas. “Or maybe not, I saw a wall over there, I’d love to fuck your gorgeous body over it again in about 2 minutes once I’ve recovered…”
Oh yes, this will certainly be one hell of a tale to tell Paul…
The End

My mouth stretched wide, my teeth unable to meet, no words can utter forth, the uses of my mouth restricted. I feel the slow trickle of wet liquid seep slowly from my mouth down via the corner crease of my lips and I can do nothing about it, my ability to suck and draw back the saliva impeded. This ball is taking charge, this other object gagging and filling my mouth and even impacting on the muscles of my throat. The tie, is firm against the skin of my cheek. This is how I sit before you. Tell me what you want to see and how you wish me to behave? I am your BDSM sexual fantasy.
Something I used to hear my aunt say to me, “darling, never judge a book by its cover”. So little did I necessarily understand then, certainly not in any depth, however those wise words now just bring me to smile a deep inward smile. You may wonder who I am telling you this story, speaking my words, so a little about me perhaps to make you understand my quiet inner fetish pleasure.
I am a more mature than not lady living what most would describe as a mid town life rather quintessential in many ways and certainly in style and nature. I enjoy many simple regular pleasures, gentle strolls in morning sunshine and cups of delicate Indian tea in elegant porcelain teacups. My image has a signature style often in dark somber tones, I wear my hair tidy and neatly bobbed and my dress sense could be thought of as a little prim in part, fitted dresses featuring neat nipped in waists, my style simple, practical with my trademark grey pearls that I rarely leave behind. But all of this is just a cover to my regular life. Behind this mantle of everyday propriety lurks a woman with a fevered, festering mind, awash with fetish thoughts and kinky porn desires. My release is in my words, as I beaver away at night writing up the scenes and acts, the kinky sex stories that burn in my head. They are devilish stories that awaken my body and scream for attention. For yes, I am a writer, and one who secretly hides behind an unknown name, a pseudonym of a woman who hankers after lust and desire and arousing pleasure.
I see myself, shed from my regular apparel scantily clad in a sheer controlling body piece, with stocking legs reclined on my deep velvet sofa craving to be bound. I am no longer that demure woman but one who wants the feeling of restraint, of sexual control, to feel the tension of the rope tight around my wrist, biting as I subtly move my position, a reminder that I am restricted in my movements and I am here for another form of pleasure. I open my legs to feel a soft breeze blow against my exposed pussy, my lips tweak as they revel in their exposure. I wear no panties and open my legs wider to feel their delicious vulnerability, offering my body to be used and touched. My thoughts are only focused on pleasure, the feeling of stimulating my body, I reach for my dildo and touch my already wet lips. My head flung back the pulsing action beats instantly through the folds of my skin into my sensitive clit. The throbbing vibration channels my mind, my arms not moving and I am taken to another place, as my body grinds itself deeper onto this black rubberized tool I carefully maneuver between my bound hands. I spread my legs wider, the view I imagine, the image of myself being used and tied. Now that feeling of being fucked as I penetrate my body deeper and deeper and it swells my lips and releases sudden jolting movements in my body as it responds to the pulsing rhythm of my masturbation.
Now all is dark, no light peeks into my vision, I have lost all sense of sight, and can only rely on touch and sound. I love how quiet it all seems, and listen more intently to hear any noise whatsoever as I recline on my sofa, my hands still locked in their position before me. I feel removed from all other elements within my room with just the powerful pulsing of my vagina lips responding to my attention and touch.
My mind sinks to thoughts of my lover standing before me. He is calm with his requests, and watches my body intently. His demands are simple but explicit. He wants to see how my body reacts, he wants to see each simple move, twitch, pulsing part. How my juices moisten my charged dildo. He wants to see how my lips begin to swell, how my legs part wider and wider for his inspection and how that in turn turns me on. When he feels I am ready, then he lets me cum, sending deeper waves of intense feeling pounding through my body that I feel are his to control and demand.
And so I find myself once again back at my elegant velvet sofa, with my delicate china cup in hand sipping gently at the refined drink. Who would ever think what fevered fantasy lay inside me, that is for me to know, until later when I sit at my desk and beaver away on my keyboard, then my thoughts come to life again.
THE END