The morning begins the same as every other day. The radiant beaming sunshine is halted in its path to my eyes by the heavy curtains pulled to. I wake at the same time every day, just before 7am. I don’t even have to look at the clock anymore, but I do, out of habit. 6.58am. Wonderful. For once, I’m able to have a lie in and yet my body seems unable to extricate itself from the routine it is used to.
My body shifts from its sleeping position on my front, to lay on my back. I enjoy the warmth of the thick duvet and the quiet house before everyone wakes up and the day’s madness begins. I yawn and rub sleep from my eyes as I get used to vision once again.
The night was spent shifting in steamy, torrid dreams of debauchery and sex. As I lay and ponder on nothing much at all, I realize the sensations of my body. My clit feels like its been expertly strummed for hours, aching, throbbing and pulsing so hard. In reality it hasn’t been touched at all. Yet. Remnants of dreams filter through my consciousness, bodies entwined, the feeling of dreamed orgasms, the taste of my lover on my lips and the feel of them pervading and invading me all at once.
I feel my juices pooling underneath my morning pussy and I feel dirty. I want to be taken then and there. I stretch out, lithe as a cat, arching my back and luxuriating in the carnal physical feelings. The desire. I want to be touched. I want to touch.
I lick my lips. I have time to enjoy a little… just a little taste of self satisfaction.
I run my fingertips lightly over the fronts of my soft thighs, trailing patterns over them, moving slowly upwards but missing my scorching heat, where the juices act as lure for my fingers. I softly tease the sides of my v, soft thin flesh where my leg joints meet my smooth, hairless sex. Still denying myself the soft supple wetness and warmth of plunging into my lips.
Further up, I enjoy the flatness of my stomach as I lay on my back. Concave as I suck in my breath, fingers feeling my sensuous curves, the corset waist above generous flared hips. The contrast pleases me. I feel womanly, feminine, sexual. Predatory.
My pussy aches, yearns to be touched. Fondled, rubbed, probed. Soon, my darling, soon.
I can count my ribs as I bring my hands up to fondle over my flesh, the shape of my body, indulging in the delight of my shape without the depression of gravity. An escape from reality. I can dream, fantasize.
I breathe out as my hands meet the fleshy mounds of my breasts, natural and soft, a handful each and no more. The nipples pucker up and thrill as my finger pads lightly, so lightly, brush over them and tease the responsive petal-pink points there. With a sudden low growl and insistent impatience I scoop up each breast in a whole clutching handful and maul them… ending with a decidedly firm pinch to the nipple to top off the nerve tingling experience.
My throat and pussy contract in unison as my need approaches boiling point. I must sate her, sate my pussy, before I surely explode with wanton lust.
One hand reaches up to fondle over my neck, my collarbone, sweeping downwards over both breasts. The other seeks out those soft silky folds, dripping with anticipation. I’m writhing, twisting, losing myself and getting tangled, enjoying smearing my juices over the bed and my shining inner thighs. I rub my fingers between this new wetness, to enjoy the slipperiness of it, hot flesh rubbing together, my trapped hand clamped between desperate thighs and sopping gushing pussy lips. Engorged lips that want to swallow my fingers, my hand. I relish the sensations of my lips rubbing over the thumb knuckle on my left hand, as my right inflames my lust further through nipple teases & squeezes.
I stretch out flat again and let my now thoroughly wet hand travel over my sex. Finger pads lightly strumming over the spreading, eager lips and delving lightly into the space between. I feel the clear slippery wetness coating the length of my fingers and quickly, hungrily, bring it up to my mouth to taste the sweetness before dipping down, once again, to the honey pot of my desire.
Delicately I circle my now straining, erect clit with my middle fingers. I alternate this movement with deeper and deeper probes into my pussy, desperate to be fucked senseless, focusing on fragmented shards of memories, some real, some dream; hot, erotic encounters and steamy, raunchy taboo fantasies. I’m so hot now, perspiration dawns on my back and between my pink mauled breasts.
I can feel the pin pricks of light beginning, the semblance of an orgasm, teasing. So touchable, visible on the horizon of my consciousness. I just need more… more circling, more pressure, not directly, to the side. No, not to the side, directly on my clit. A finger dipped inside. A harder pinch of the nipple. My back arched tightly, tight like the string of a bow ready to fire. My whole hand comes into play and I fuck myself mercilessly, no longer just one finger inside, but two… then three.
My nipples graze roughly over the duvet now only half covering me, one leg out to the open, naked body wild with abandonment and climactic need. The sheet cast between my legs only serving to drive the frenzy up further. I let the fabric attend to my nipples as I bring my right hand down to take care of my slick wet clit as my right fingers are fucking me, feeling my sugar walls clench and pulsate, beating a rhythm in tune with the want in my soul. Hard, hard clit like diamond, surely it will soon explode. Fingers slipping over it, faster, faster… pussy clenching and swallowing my thrusting fingers..
Light bursts into my brain and I’m flooded… nerve endings hyper sensitive and I ride over that waterfall of emotion, sensation, carried away, lost to the orgasm for as long as I can ride it out for. Never wanting it to end, this molten gold feeling, suffused with warmth and light all at once, breaths coming ragged and fast. Clenched tight muscles and nerves, brain, to throat, to nipples, to the pit of my stomach down to my clit and some core of my sex deep inside my pussy.
… … … …
Hazy vision returns as I realize I had my eyes squeezed shut for the final tantalizing few moments, that climactic ride. I’m returning back to a calmness, with ebbing throbs and twitches. My pussy gulps with the aftershocks and my clit feels white numb after the explosion.
I let my hands lie where they are, one between my legs, enjoying the post-orgasmic ripples of my pussy and clit together, the other on my hip, exposed to the growing sunlight peeking around the curtains and into my day.
I yawn once more and when I’ve decided my pussy has stopped throbbing enough to move, I half crawl, half fall out of bed to go run a much needed bath.
Another day begins.
- Cara Sutra
The views expressed in this blog are those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the opinions of Her Body Bank.
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