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The plush black comforter is so soft, so clean against my newly-showered skin. I roll over onto my stomach and nuzzle my face against it, pleased with myself for finally doing the laundry. The gentle flowery detergent scent mixes with the coconut of my shampoo and wafts up to encircle me in its deceptive summer-time embrace.
I close my eyes, shutting out the colder reality of my frosted windows. I’m happy to be so warmly deceived.
I cuddle the blanket closer, pressing its softness between my thighs and against my neck. My relaxed muscles seem to mold themselves to the bed, and I sigh with contentment, feeling very much like a cat who’s found the perfect place to curl up for a blissfully long sleep. But it’s not sleep that’s on my mind…
My thoughts seamlessly drift from one sinister delicacy to the next. I begin to imagine you coming home from work and finding me like this, naked and damp on our freshly washed sheets. After all, it’s already 5 o’clock. You’ll be here within the half-hour…
I glance around our cozy bedroom. The little lamp on our nightstand isn’t very bright, but it makes the maroon walls around it glow. It darkens the edges of objects and creates shadows that spill into the corners. Our friends often comment on our choice of lighting. They think we should buy a brighter light bulb, or add more lamps, but neither of us agree. We like the heaviness of the room. We like the mystery. It’s what makes us different.
I shift against the blanket onto my back, my shoulders propped up slightly by our pillows. I glance down at my breasts, and admire the hardened peaks of my nipples. Lower, my navel shimmers, one lonely undried drop of moisture still clinging to its shallow depths. I tense the muscles underneath so that it spills over, and watch transfixed as it slowly traverses the contours of my abdomen before disappearing into the dip of my waist. The gentle tickling of its journey focuses my mind on more sensual things.
I begin to imagine you secretly standing in the doorway, watching – waiting to see what I’ll do next. Just the thought makes my pussy clench with anticipation. I rest my head against the pillows, close my eyes, and decide to give in to my tactile temptations.
I touch myself lightly with both hands, feeling the raised bones of my hips and the supple skin in between. I trace my fingertips up. Up past the tiny wet trail left behind by the inquisitive drop. Up past the hill of my ribs to the rounded mountains of my breasts. Tentatively at first I graze them. I start at my sides, rubbing the backs of my fingernails around to the fleshy underneaths, never touching the nipples directly as I work my way around and around.
I feel my nipples stiffen, beginning to ache for attention. My body warms with a crimson flush. It radiates from my groin, vibrating through my legs and awakening my toes. I relax deeper into the folds of the comforter, savoring the first real wave of sexual excitement as it washes over me. It causes my thighs to spread naturally, as if by a will of their own.
From the doorway, you’d be able to glimpse the pink of my lips now, maybe even the glistening of my arousal. The thought alone makes my clit throb. I can’t stop myself anymore. I pinch the sensitive points of my nipples greedily, almost roughly. A low moan of pleasure escapes, and my back arches up, pressing my breasts further into my palms.
My hips thrust forward into the empty air above, and I finally allow my instincts to take over. I snake one hand down to my smoothly shaved pussy and gingerly circle my clit once, twice, teasing it out from under its protective hood. I run my middle finger down between my inner lips already slick with my own juices, before stroking it back up. I bring my wetness to my clit purposefully, massaging it into the little engorged bud, knowing it’ll amplify the sensations tenfold. I gasp at the first wet touch, and moan deeply as I begin to make slow teasing circles.
As my excitement builds, I think of you watching me. I imagining you to be the amorphous shadows filling the silent spaces of our room. In my fantasy you have a thousand eyes. I’m exposed to you from every possible angle. I feel predatorily surrounded, wonderfully trapped under the steady heat of your gaze. Your hunger for me becomes tangible. It bites at my thighs and laps at the dampened creases of my soul.
I can feel your voyeuristic pleasure growing as I wiggle and writhe on our bed. I spread my legs wider, and use my free hand to pull my pussy lips apart, opening myself up to you fully and without hesitation. I want you to see me. I want you to want me like this, your cock long and hard, stroking yourself in time to the rocking of my hips.
The thought of you secretly masturbating is enough to make me speed up my own ministrations. My pussy tightens and drips with an unsatisfied desire to be filled by you. I plunge one finger into my smooth depths, seeking some measure of relief, but I quickly realize it’s not going to be enough. I push a second finger in, thrusting them in and out, splaying them apart to widen the penetration.
My other hand continues to toy with my clit, moving a little faster, keeping a solid pace with my invading fingers. I’m no longer aware of my moaning, or the way my body shudders with each new wave of pleasure. I can feel my orgasm sneaking to the surface but it retreats just as quickly.
In the midst of my self-inflicted frustration, I focus on the image of you losing control. I see you coming through the door, your cock proudly displayed in your hand as it sticks out from between your pant’s zipper. You haven’t bothered to take off your clothes, and the look of lustful determination on your face is practically enough to make me cum.
Without speaking, I move to the edge of our bed and turn over onto all fours, lifting my hips high. You stand behind me, take hold of everything I’ve offered, and enter my pussy with one long, firm stroke.
I gasp as you fill me all the way, and my fingers mimic the intensity of your thrust. It’s exactly what I need to come completely undone. My entire body tenses around that one fantastic thought. I cry out your name, riding the orgasm from one gloriously tight peak to the next. I gush with each climax, coating my fingers, dripping my satisfaction onto the bedsheets again and again.
Slowly the thousands of your eyes begin to fade with each calming breath that I take. The shadows return to being just shadows, and I am once again alone in our room. I bring my sticky fingers to my lips, sucking on each one individually, tasting myself and leaving the flavor of my desire lingering in my mouth.
The alarm clock next to our little lamp now blinks 5:23, and I want you to really enjoy your Welcome Home kiss. It’ll be my way of apologizing for dirtying our irresistibly clean sheets…
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