Not There

January 17th, 2010

At first, I don’t hear the key in the door. I am busy, distracted by the vibrations against my flesh and my soft moans. The door opens and when it closes, I hear it. I know it is him (who else could unlock that door) and that he will soon find me. I debate turning off and covering up but decide against it. I continue to thrust the toy in and out of my cunt, already slick with arousal and lube.

The atmosphere changes as he almost enters the room, stopping suddenly in the door way. My face is turned away and I pretend not to know he is there. I imagine his mouth hanging open and he’ll swallow his words to take advantage of the situation. I strain to hear him breathe just as he must be straining to control it, keep it quiet.

I moan for effect and slowly pleasure myself with the vibrator. I extract it leisurely from my pussy, running the tip along my lips and doubling back. I rest it against my clit, gasping at the sensation before sliding it back inside my body, angling against my most sensitive spots. I feel myself swell and back off, not yet wanting to release that flood gate.

Just in time, he distracts me, having moved from the door to the bed. His weight shifts the mattress and a shiver runs down my spine. From my position, on hands and knees, I cannot see him and I dare not look over my shoulder. I trail the vibrator from my clit toward my breasts, slowly circling my nipples. He moves closer and I can feel his breath, hot on my skin but not a word is spoken. We both know he is there, we both refuse to acknowledge it.

I tense, almost started at the touch of his fingers, lightly caressing my lips. I rest the toy on the bed, still on, and move my now free hand between my legs, careful not to touch his. I don’t want to break the spell. I plunge several fingers into my vagina. They are eagerly taken in and coated in my juices. I pull them out slowly, sure they are glistening and spread myself wide, sure he is watching. I retreat my hand from its revealed position, grasp the vibrator once more.

He takes the opportunity and I am surprised by his tongue on my clit, zoning in exactly where he needs to be. His tongue flicks and swirls; his lips surround my erect organ and he sucks it into his mouth. I respond with appreciative moans and he buries his face deeper, moaning as well, releasing soft vibrations against my flesh.

Still, we don’t speak, perpetuating the facade. He backs away and adjusts his position. I take the time to slide the vibrator back into my cunt, pushing it against my G-spot. This time I am ready and the pulsations begin the flow. Quickly removing the toy, I push the flood of ejaculate out in a healthy stream. I can feel a hand brush my thigh as he holds it between my legs but not for long. His mouth replaces his hands, drinking of me and he sucks and licks every last drop from my lips and my thighs, leaving them wet with his saliva.

I am empty, but not finished. Not yet. The vibrator finds it way between my legs once more, pushing at my clit. I rub, pressing feverishly to build myself to orgasm. This time he doesn’t touch, at least not me. There is the sound of a zipper, fabric rustling and I know his cock is in hand. I imagine its shape, its size, texture and taste. I am licking my lips without realizing, the sudden fantasy bringing me closer to the edge. I remember how his hard cock feels against me, inside me and pretend the vibrator is as good. It’s not but I pretend, anyway.

We pretend we are alone, he stroking his cock and me with the vibrator pressed against my sex. We are both hot and I am more than sufficiently wet. The bed moves with our movements but I ignore it. I am masturbating furiously as he breathes raggedly. We are both close. As I feel myself about to peak, he moans behind me. I imagine the look on his face as he does, a contorted mixture of pleasure and effort and am sent over the edge myself. I feel the contractions of my muscles, a quick succession of orgasm that fades not long after it begins. I am not immediately aware of the hot cum that he landed on the back of my thighs but it cools quickly and gravity pulls it down my skin.

I turn off the vibrator, drop it between my legs. We are still silent, except for the sound of our heavy breathing and his pants becoming zipped once more. He climbs off the bed and quietly makes his way toward the door. As my heartbeat slows and breathing quiets, I hear the door open and close, once more the sound of keys jingling in the lock.


Adrenaline Rush

August 12th, 2008

There’s something quite thrilling about being naughty when there’s a likely chance that someone could walk in on you mid-act or hear you through paper thin walls. There’s something to the act of stifling moans of pleasure that makes my blood run a little faster, my heart pump a little harder. Sometimes, when I’m really especially mischievous, I might increase my performance to put on a show for those who might be listening.

I know I’m not alone; there are many people who are fans of sex in public places for this very reason. There are many places with signs posted that sex is a criminal offense for this very reason, yet people still risk it for the rush.

Like any high, it’s addictive.