Riding It Out #MasturbationMonday

“If you were here, be aware that I’d be ravishing you.”

My insides melted, turning to submissive jelly, as I read the text message.

“I would pin you to the bed and take what is Mine.”

I needed to get home. Groceries be damned, I needed to get home now.

With a calm exterior masking a growling, swirling desire within me, I managed to navigate the grocery store, stand in line behind the sweetest, slowest people, pay for my few things and walk quickly to the car. My belly quivered in anticipation. One freebie a week, and I knew it was time to take it.

I played with my necklace while I drove down the road. He gave it to me in February. It’s not a collar, but whenever I want to feel closer to him, I put it on. I wear the necklace a lot these days.

I tilted my pelvis into the seat. The pressure on my pussy felt good, but it wasn’t enough. It was nowhere near enough.

Determinedly, I walked into the house, put away the groceries, and went upstairs. Had anyone seen my face, they would have known I was a woman on a mission. I stripped out of my clothes, leaving the necklace. I pulled back the covers on my bed, turned off the lights, and sank into the coolness of the sheets.

Now in position, I was almost unsure of where to begin. The build-up, the need, hadn’t prepared me for the reality. I needed to make this last. I wanted desperately to feel the orgasm rocking my body.

My hands cupped my soft breasts. I pinched my nipples, gasping at the pain that shot through my body. My nipples and pussy are connected at times, as if with a thread. Pull on one end, and the other will surely respond. Moaning softly, I dropped my hands to my mons, rubbing and kneading the flesh.

With my hand flat against my cunt, I rocked my body against my palm. The pressure was sweet but only a pale second to what I truly wanted. Inserting a finger between my lips, the smell of my own sex wafted through the room. I smiled at the wet heat against my finger, bringing the digit up to my clit.

I swirled my fingertip around my clitoris for several minutes. Every so often, as I felt the pressure build to the breaking point, I dipped my finger into my pussy, halting my body’s race towards a climax.

Circling my finger this way and then that, I often forgot to breathe. My free hand clutched Mr. Teddy as I felt the orgasm build, slowly and steadily.

I often control my own orgasms because I’m usually begging to cum. With no need to beg, I decided not to control this one but to ride it out to the very end. No stopping and starting allowed.

For eight minutes, I doggedly circled my clit back and forth, this way and that, unceasing. My body began to shudder as my moans grew loader. I wrenched away from my own finger when the pressure turned to fire. Refusing to call that an orgasm, I placed the pad of my finger back on my clit, smiling at the slickness.

My finger swirled faster and faster against the moisture that coated the hard, swollen flesh. My toes curled. My breathing became ragged. My hand clutched the bear tighter.

Milky cum jetted from my body, splashing my hand, my thighs, the towel beneath me. The hot liquid shot straight up into the air. I trembled as the aftershocks came, as they often do, my pussy spasming uncontrollably.

When I felt reasonably sure I was done, I ran my fingers across my soaked lips, gathering as much fluid as I could into my hand before bringing my hand to my mouth. I sucked the cum from my fingers, smiling to myself.

A few minutes later, I texted him to let him know what I had done.

“Is My girl smiling a dreamy smile?”

I smiled even bigger. Without a doubt, the smile was dreamy.