I couldn’t help myself, this morning on opening my eyes and coming too, small beads of sweat on parts of me, my neck, beneath each breast, back of my knees, between my thighs.
I slipped my hand under my duvet and felt my legs warm to the touch, flushed. My bed wear of a vest and knickers clung tight against me. My fingers played over my knickers, over my vulva and felt them, me, more than slightly damp. Along my labia the folds enfolding my intimacy.
I remember a dream that’s left me with feelings washing over and through me, feeling that won’t fade, but seemed to grow stronger, insistent, permeating every pore.
I brought my fingers to my face, my mouth; I could smell my sex, my arousal. It seemed to tease me. My stomach was knotted as though bated with anticipation. I felt a smile spread across my face and bit my bottom lip. I opened the bottom drawer by the side of the bed and grabbed my vibrator.
It’s blue, 7 inches long and very slender. I knew this urge so well and being all alone I had to somehow fulfil it. I turned it on, slipped it beneath the duvet, turned it on and stroked across my belly. I shuddered, unsurprisingly, my body slowly settling into the motions from my belly button to my vest which I lifted and slid under now tracing my nipple.
I shuddered, more than shuddered again at first contact, my nipple standing erect very quickly. My head reeled, again biting my bottom lip as I moved it around on still its lowest setting. It’s hummed its kisses as though tasting me, testing me, as a lover might. It grew so hard as to poke through the thin fabric of my vest as I continued teasing myself, taunting myself. I pondered that when I go out to town later I wouldn’t wear a bra. I may regret it. it’s cold, but then again, it might be worth it.
The vibrator took on a life of its own on a journey around my nipples, stroking the aureole, enticing the skin to goose bumps, and that ever-increasing warmth between my legs.
I peeled away the duvet to find a damp stain on my underwear just them where they curved comfortingly over my sex. Over my ribs and down my tummy the vibrator explored, thirsty for more, around my tummy-button and reaching my naked pubic mound beneath my knickers. Responding I raised my knees and keeping them, for now, closed, doing its bidding knowing I no longer had a choice but to surrender to its slender and tender humming touches.
Breathing came in fits and starts as it slid across my mound, the bone beneath, towards the folds that shaped my most intimate of places. I edged my legs apart enough to allow it access to a tenderness now flushed with unseemly desire still resonating to its chosen harmony beckoning me towards its designs. It opened my flesh like a slow cut, easy as through water but shifting and sifting flesh taunting my responses to come wave after wave until so close to ever-dizzying heights.
Its tip touched my tip, my nub, my clit, now aroused to more pronounced than what it was though still in itself behaving shyly, as though surprised by this welling of new sensations which in fact it knew very well, and frequently desired as much as the rest of me. My back shifted up then down, arching then side to side I felt like a snake uncoiling and anxious for the full force of the sun in which to bask to completely and thoroughly.
All too suddenly an orgasm tore through my hips, my stomach, my whole insides twisted, contorting as every muscle reflexively responded with ferocity and the almost cataplectic stopped, froze, remembered how to breathe again and collapsed back down onto the bed shuddering as all my lusts become uncovered.
Soft the air, coiling now, closed around me soothing me, hushing my eruptions when I realised the vibrator wanted more, more of me, more from me, more with me. It wasn’t sated and it seemed neither was I. This lover demanded so much more: what could I do?
From the draw still open I retrieved my dildo, pink, smooth, longer than the vibrator, and noticeably thicker. I knew where all this was going and my now two lovers weren’t letting me go any time soon.
With the dildo smeared in lubrication I willingly spread my legs, raising again one knee clearly and flagrantly exposing my now glistening sex to them both. The vibe held back I parted my mouth as I moved the dildo inside my thighs along my now well-moistened folds and entrance, moving it in then out then in deeper then out, then deeper still, then out then further increasingly the pace ever-so slightly. My imagination running manic now as I held closed my eyes and disconnected the rest of me from my hands, that could now so easily be someone else, from the dildo, that could easily be something else, something more human, flesh-toned, blood-filled.
Despite being wet I was tight, small by design, my hips received it nonetheless, my muscled contracting and releasing it allow it, my lover, inside me over and over repeatedly. My vagina, the whole of me, was it its, his mercy, and he knew it.
It, he, began to more than just move enticing my hips and waist to respond, it, he, began to fuck me. Fuck me in earnest. Fuck me unerringly. Fuck me until I could feel tears of pleasure piece my eyes squeezed through closed lids. I pushed back and deeper he went, harder, he went, faster more hungrily he went. I had become almost the embodiment or my pent-up and raw desires, naked and unmasked of all airs and graces. Sweat prickled my brow and neck and thighs when I grabbed my vibe and slid it across my clit once more: now set on the next speed. It was electrifying. More inches of the dildo penetrated me, stretched as I was by its girth and now almost strapped to the bed by the effects of the vibrator.
Small circles and deep thrust, my whole being was released from any sense of decorum or shame and at this point I glimpsed my true nature, an inner me we all have that rarely finds an opportunity for true release or escape: a primal scream.
I knew I had drifted too far from shore not too drown, it was inevitable. I could feel it with every thrust, every ripple teased from the vibrator now on its highest setting, which should be called ‘merciless’
Don’t stop, I whispered, don’t stop, almost crying. To who? My two lovers of course. Don’t stop.
I almost blacked-out, swept up in a heat, a fury, the purest affirmation of pleasure flooded through me and from me and felt as though it had thrown me against an unyielding wall. The dildo kept thrusting, the vibrator vibrating until I lost my grip on everything but the bed and fell through a hole in the universe to find myself momentarily suspended in, in what? Until crashing down once again onto now crumpled sheets that I gripped for dear life and until the tremors stopped cascading through my limbs.
I was soaked, particularly between my legs, the softest liquid smeared my folds and inner thighs. I was coming back to life, resuscitated by sheer force of will while my body attempted to reconstitute itself into something resembling me.
We lay there, my two lovers and me. I laughed the smallest of laughs, curled up inside the aftermath and closed my eyes.