This morning, as all mornings, I wake up horny and needy; nipples hard and sensitive to the rasping brush of my blanket against them, panties just slightly damp, barely concealing the wet heat underneath. Sex dream? No, or I don’t remember it if I did dream of being fucked. All I remember each day is waking up aroused and distinctly unsatisfied. My hand slides down my chest, stomach, fingers slipping into my panties, slowly spreading my swollen lips, my sex so sensitive even that makes me gasp.
I take my breast in my other hand and squeeze hard, rough, before circling lightly around, in spirals, closer and closer to my stiff nipple. Fingers pinching, tweaking, rolling it between them, the other hand completely still; drifting, hovering, feeling the radiating heat and desire already to arch my hips up, forcing the friction, forcing my fingers to slide against my aching clit.
"Please," I murmur, and my eyes slide open for the first time to gaze at the blank ceiling. My pussy clenches so hard I feel my clit throb just beneath my fingers. Who am I begging? Not me; I know by now I cannot control myself, that alone, edging is just another word for coming, only slightly prolonged. That when I say out loud, "I’m not going to come," it only pushes me that much closer, the embarrassment and arousal together flushing my cheeks and chest.
No, I beg the invisible man who stands at the edge of my bed, pulling the blanket down and my panties after, using both hands to force my legs wide apart. Knowing how shameful I feel, spread and on display, but not ashamed enough to be able to stop myself from rubbing slow circles on my clit or slipping my fingers inside. He who teases me, and mocks me, and embarrasses me; who grabs my wrists when I get close and pins them down, because he knows I wasn’t going to say anything… well, he didn’t tell me not to, can I get there before he does? Playing semantics, caught and struggling between the desperate desire to please and the aching, howling need to release. His fingers around my throat and words in my ear snap me right out of it:
"This isn’t a game, girl. I may say no, but if you don’t speak up, you definitely won’t get what you want. Try that stunt again and you’ll be very sorry. Now get dressed, I won’t have you late for class.”
The edge in his voice sends a shiver down my spine. I look up with what I hope is the most pathetic, desperate and needy expression I can come up with. I want to beg, but my breath hitches in my throat as a quiet whine. He laughs as he turns and leaves the room…
in my mind, but in reality I never stopped and that thought alone, the thought of being told no is enough to make me come shuddering and breathless, whimpering into my pillow, face turned away from my naked convulsing body.
pixelskylines
izzy806
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germansingergirl
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
ellievsbear
