Pigtails and pantiless. A state of constant arousal and feeling little. Knee socks and orgasms.
I thought that while feeling little that I could not feel sexual. I was wrong, so very wrong.
Curled up in bed with the need to orgasm, but not a lot of time, I dipped one finger deep into my cunt, heading straight for the one spot that can make my toes curl. Already damp, my body reacted almost instantly. One finger is never enough and soon a second finger joined the first. Stroking, tapping, and swirling around my g-spot, I panted and moaned. My hips lifted off of the bed as my heels dug into the mattress. Seconds later, I squirted into my hand.
Collapsing back into my pillows, I panted as I felt my cunt continue to clench long after my fingers departed. I looked over and decided I wanted a real audience, not just the fantasy in my head. I grabbed Teddy with my free hand, since my right hand was still nestled comfortably against my swollen lips. I kissed him and propped him up so that he was facing me.
I began to swirl one finger tip gently over my clit, slowly, lightly. I wanted to show Teddy I could be patient with my own orgasms and not too greedy. My clit became swollen, each graze of my fingertip shooting sparks of desire through my entire body. Within moments, I began to writhe against my own hand, my pussy spasming and cum gushing into my palm. I smiled at Teddy. It was nice to have an audience.
I wanted more, needed it. Feeling alone, I thought back to a question I had once asked of my readers. Would anyone want to hear me cum, hear my squeaks and moans as I cum? You can – if you click this link.
This time, this third time, my fingers alternated between my clit and my g-spot, stroking and rubbing. Were my moans heightened because of my daring? I dipped two fingers into my soaked cunt. The squelching noises of my pussy as I finger-fucked myself were erotic to my own ears. I gasped and panted, squeaked and moaned. I fucked and fucked and fucked myself until suddenly, my body shuddered as I squirted once again into my hand.
I turned off the recorder on my phone and wondered if I would be brave enough to share it. As I began to breathe normally, I dared to listen to myself. I heard the wet noises for myself, a simple accompaniment to my own gasping symphony. Giggling to myself, I hugged Teddy, looked down at my knee socks, and wondered just what kind of little girl I really am.