I woke up slowly as I lay on my side, my hips moved backwards to meet his cock each time he thrust into me, one hand squeezed and pulled at the breast closest to him, and then pinched and rubbed at the nipple while he kissed the side of my neck.
The soft little noises of pleasure I had been making got louder and turned into moans. My hips had started to move faster to meet his, as my arousal escalated rapidly as I continued to wake up. I moved my hand back towards his hip, to urge him to fuck me harder while my mouth begged him the same.
But my hand searching for his hip just found the mattress, and as I sleepily turned my head back towards him and finally opened my eyes, all I found was his empty side of the bed.
The crushing realisation that he hadn’t been kissing my neck, that it had in fact been my own hand touching my breast, that the almost orgasmic sensations between my legs had not been from his cock, but from the bunched up duvet I had still been frantically grinding against, all of which made me groan loudly in frustration.
I then belatedly remembered that he had to start work early that morning, which made me groan just as loudly in frustration again.
Definitely wide awake then and far too turned on to just stop, I removed the duvet from between my legs and moved up onto my knees to face the headboard. I grabbed his pillows and put them flat on the mattress length ways.
Then I slung one leg over them so they were now between my thighs and I started to ride them, hips moving rhythmically while I wished it was him I was riding instead.
I moved my hands so they gripped the headboard tightly, and I used it to ride the pillows with much more force, my breasts bouncing gloriously every time I moved.
The friction from the pillows against my pussy was good but it wasn’t enough, so letting go of the headboard I leaned back with my hands behind me. The new position felt good and I started to go fast and hard against the pillows again.
But they were still not enough, no matter how forcefully I rode them, they were not hard enough, they were not him, they were not his cock.
I groaned loudly in frustration again, as I was getting closer to an orgasm, but I was never going to cum just from the pillows alone.
So sitting up straight I bunched the pillows up as tightly as I could against my pussy, and I started to ride them yet again. I moved my hands to my breasts and squeezed and pulled at them hard, then spanked each one in turn repeatedly, which made me moan from the pleasure, before I started to flick each puffy nipple with my fingers over and over again, which made my moans even louder.
And that was good, better than before, but it still wasn’t enough, I needed more to reach an orgasm. I slid one hand down over my stomach and inside my knickers, but went past my clit and straight down to my opening, and used my wetness from there to coat my index finger before I brought my hand back up to my clit.
And while my middle finger held one of my pussy lips open to the side, I placed my index finger on my clit, which made me moan again from the initial contact and the additional pleasure it brought.
Usually when I play with my clit I like to tease and start off with light touches and take my time to gradually build it up, but right then, hell no!
So as one hand still tormented my breasts, and my index finger worked my clit hard and fast, I rode the pillows like a woman possessed.
And with my eyes closed I imagined it was him underneath me, that I felt his hands grip my hips tightly as he pulled me down on top of him so I could feel his cock, my wet pussy moved backwards and forwards over his hard cock which was flat against his stomach, that it was his rock hard cock which made me even wetter with my clit pressed hard against it as I moved continuously along its length.
It was finally enough. With my head thrown back while I repeatedly moaned “Oh fuck” and “Oh god” as I kept on moving, hand from one breast to the other as I squeezed them almost painfully hard, my index finger never left my clit as it rubbed it hard to provide the constant friction I needed, and my hips were grinding my pussy against the pillows relentlessly.
So close, so very very close, the pleasure almost unbearable, almost too much, that exquisite feeling just as my orgasm was about to hit, making me lose all coordination when it did.
It left me gripping one breast really hard, index finger pressed firmly against my clit but no longer moving, while my hips stuttered against the pillows. I forgot how to move as my only focus was on enjoying each wave of pure pleasure as they rippled through me.
As the pleasure started to recede I loosened the grip on my breast, and started to gently rub my clit again as I moved my hips lazily against the pillows, trying to stretch out my orgasm for a few more seconds before it faded away totally, leaving me energised and ready to finally start my day.
While I was in the shower, and as my still sensitive pussy started to tingle again from the handheld shower head, I wondered what excuse I could use for being late into work.
I was pretty sure that “I woke up seriously horny and had to masturbate, twice!” wouldn’t work quite as well as the good old, “There were delays on the Tube” excuse.
Later on that day, when he got home from work before me, he sent me a WhatsApp to ask me to explain why there was a note on his pillows saying, “Sniff me I’m delicious!”
Followed by approximately 90 seconds later, a photo of my suction cup dildo still attached to the tiles in the shower, with the message, “Just how much did you miss me this morning?”
I mean, I had known already that I was going to be late for work right? So I had decided to embrace the lateness and make it worth my while. And it had been so worth it as I had fucked myself in the shower, on my dildo to another magnificent orgasm…
