Writhing

Impatience left me on top of the prettily-made bed, yanking my pants down to my ankles. I stroked my pussy, desperate to make the ache subside.

On my back, eyes closed, I dipped two fingers into my cunt. I stroked and kneaded my g-spot until I cried out. I spread my legs wider, lifted my knees, and strained to go deeper. My pussy clenched around my fingers like a vise as I sobbed my release into the empty room.

Pulling my sticky fingers out, I found my clit and rubbed in little circles, over and over again. Panting and writhing on the bed, I squirted into my hand. Seconds later another gush. My circling never ceased as I gushed, then again, and then another.

Shrieking with need, I rubbed my pussy. Two fingers slid in of their own volition, sucked in by the sopping juices pooling within every crevice. I rubbed my g-spot again, mercilessly pounding it. A wet, sloppy sound filled the room. I held one leg by my knee, pulling it into my face, anything to open my cunt further to my wet hand.

Another clench around my hand, and both my pussy and I wept with need. I found my swollen clit and pinched and pulled between my thumb and finger. My body trembled, my back arched, and I writhed as I felt the orgasm build. I stroked my clit, the moisture making it silky under my hand. My body convulsed as I came again and again, over and over. I refused to pull my hand away, forcing my own orgasms.

The sound of, “Oh God!” echoed in my room. Finally, I wrenched my hand away. My pussy convulsed for long moments as I finally caught my breath. I released my legs, stretching them, feeling the delicious ache from being pulled wide. I looked at my soaked hand in wonder. I smiled as I began to lick myself clean.