My hand trails along my collarbone, down to sleepy nipples. They know the difference in your touch and mine. Grabbing one soft nipple, I twist viciously. I hiss in pain, but it’s not the same.
I cup the other breast, imagining the warmth of your hand, larger and firmer than my own. My fingers are smoother and thinner than yours. They cover less space. The all-encompassing warmth when you touch me is something I’ve grown used to, and I miss it.
Nipples now properly at attention, I move down to the sweet spot, the center of all that matters right now.
My legs part. Traitors both of them. They only want to be spread wide; they care not whether it is me or you parting them. I feel the tightness in muscles that have grown unaccustomed to being pulled wide. The sting in my legs sends shivers through my entire body.
Fingertips skim over sensitive skin. I quiver. I’m much gentler with my own body than you are. This is neither good nor bad, it simply is. I can feel the slow throb building in my clit as blood leaves my brain and travels south.
When you touch me, the build up takes seconds, at most. Often need arises instantly. My cunt knows the difference and finds my gentle ministrations amusing, at best.
I stroke my slit and circle my clitoris. I revel at the small petals hidden deep within. Moisture begins to pool. I grow impatient, as usual. Rubbing myself faster, circling this way and that, the friction I create does its job.
I need more.
I pinch and twist my nipple, torturing my own flesh simply to feel something more. That does it, right there. Moisture gathers in dusky pink crevices. My fingers move faster. I am betrayed by own my body as I climax, hips thrusting forward, breath catching in my throat, muscles spasming.
Falling back down to earth, finding my breath, I shake my head, knowing in my heart that I am a poor substitute for you.
Today’s the first day of my first blog tour for The Adventures of Sir and Babygirl! If you’ve got a minute, check out the fabulous bloggers who volunteered to take part!
Bwahhhhhh…. Yes, it’s just not the same, which ends up frustrating me. I love that you describe your legs as traitors….:)
My whole body is a traitor once I get into the swing of things. 🙂
The male version, of course, would be much, much shorter, and less eloquent:
/giggles. Many of my own experiences have been similar.
Debra is a fantastic lady – I did a blog tour with L.V. Lewis but have to admit that the idea is still new to me. Love the banners and graphics you’ve got going there, though. F.A.B.U..L.O.U.S!!!
I know, right? Totally worth the money to have someone else do it! I met Debra through LV, too.
Oh and if you ever need a blog host in the future – I’m always happy to help. Even though I’m a fledgling blogger 😉
Yeah, but you’re a quick study from what I can see. 😉
And I will remember that. 🙂
It isn’t the same without being able to touch you. Feb. will be here very soon.
It’s never soon enough, but I know you’re right. 🙂
My hand never pulls out the sensations as well as someone else’s does. I’m too tentative and easy with myself. I long stronger and harder, but I’ll take what I can.
I’m soft and gentle, and a lot of times, I like that. But lately, it’s not enough. /sigh
An inspirational post! you really captured the attempt at pleasure in the absence of the desire’s source. I loved it and I hope you don’t mind that I posted a link to it on my blog.
Thank you! Glad you enjoyed it! 🙂
And no, I don’t mind at all.
I just don’t find the pleasure from my hands that my Sirs hands can provide. The warmth, strength, and texture of his fingers are just no match for my skinny digits with the long fingernails! What he can do in less than a minute takes me forever it seems! It also helps that I find him and his hands sexy as hell…just sayin!
Hugs Miss Kayla
Big strong warm hands…what is it that sends us…
Mmmmmm …Not sure but wishin I was feeling them right now!!!!!!! 🙁
Awwww….. Mynxie…… hugs sweetie…
I could just stare at Daddy’s hands. They’re warm and strong and big and…and YUMMY! So basically, I get it. 🙂
Too many ‘sighs’ to list, on my part. I’ve almost given up on masturbating entirely. I might go a week with paltry attempts to rouse interest, but without that male focus and longing, it just doesn’t seem worth it. I know I could pick up an internet play partner, but that just doesn’t do it for me anymore.
Oh well. To future longing and lust.
Unless directed to, I very rarely masturbate…its just no fun.
Can you even imagine that you would have written those words a year ago? 🙂
I KNOW, right?!?!? Inconceivable!
Miracles do happen!
[…] So. Much. Masturbation. Most of the time, he guided every second of it. Telling me where and how to touch myself. […]
I had a cousin that lived in Sleepy Nipples, Idaho 00001. ;-p