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Judith's Secret Tool

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Through emails, I was asking, and my lover was revealing to me the sensations she experiences and the ways that she touches herself when she masturbates. We wrote the following story together by passing it back and forth. I would suggest in greater depth what I understood her experience to be, and she would confirm it by leaving it unchanged, or correct it if I was off track. It was truly magical to develope this intimacy with Judith, and astonishing to learn about her secret tool.
Message: It's a rare luxury to enjoy an afternoon nap. Rarer still with the kids away, to have the house to herself for an entire weekend. From the dreary fringes of slumber Judith has been feeling the sunshine and birdsong slowly seeping into her dreams. The sun has shifted and is beaming down on her with all it's golden radiance. She feels uncomfortably warm and sweaty and still feels flushed from the shifting images she is able to recall from her dream. Wild carnal flashes of complete abandon, passionately fucking with a man held so close that she can't see him. But her fingers are sure of his contours, she recognizes the aromatic spice of his arousal, the scent of his hair. Her hands caress his strong back her thighs grip his hips as she thrusts into his thrusts. He raises up on his arms above her and she finally sees the intense blue eyes of her beautiful lover, as blue as the Pacific.
She is awake.
Judith feels a sense of loss that the dream has vanished. There's a dull ache in her pussy and her heart is fluttering. She looks out at the beautiful day, props herself up and tries to read, but her mind returns to thoughts of him. She studies his beautiful arms and how all the gold hairs shine like wires. She wants to stroke his arms and massage his strong fingers and palms, to kiss him from his fingertips to his shoulders. Feeling restless, she reaches for the printouts she left on the bedside table last night. As she reads his emails letting him caress her mind, a thrilling little tingle grows in her clit. She's very aware of the ache in her pussy that has haunted her for days.
Feeling a bit sticky, she tries to decide if she has the energy to shower. This thought only stirs her passions, releasing memories of the showers they've shared, the slide of their bodies, the close embrace of water streaming over them, hot and cozy, like a blanket that flows madly across their skin. She sits quietly with this image, feeling her thighs tense and her pussy contract with the rhythm of her heartbeat. Just the look on his face is enough to make her feel warm and wet. She watches him undress. Judy loves to watch him undress, wants to get better at doing it for him. She smiles softly, thinking of how much practice this could require. He unbuckles his belt and as his jeans slide over his trim hips, his glorious hard cock springs toward her, astonishing her each time with its incredibly perfect shape, the color of the inside of seashells, of a stormy sunset. Her mouth begins to ache, wanting to kiss him, wanting to take his beautiful, hard cock in her mouth, to taste his skin, and breathe in the warm, scent of his arousal. She longs to suck from him his ejaculations, drinking every hot, precious drop.
Finding the energy to rise, Judith quickly undresses and steps into the shower. She washes her hair and her body. She then washes her muff. Lathering between her legs is so delicious that she lingers there, finding her enjoyment rising. Her fingers slip inside. She holds them there, pressing her soapy palm to her mound. As thrills begin to blossom, Judy rolls her hips, rocking against her palm, feeling her fingers moving deep inside, her clitoris caressed by her palm. Ripples of heat flow over her breasts, up her thighs, she is tightening to a rhythm that has seized control. A billowing joy rises through her being, Judith trembles, then jolts with a deep stacato of ecstatic flashes that sear through her body. Pressing her hand between her legs, she savors the delicious warmth that pulses outward from her vagina, flowing like molten honey. The surges subside. She is no longer fighting for breath. Her surroundings return.
Judy decides that the shower is a distraction and steps out, grabbing a towel as she strolls into the bedroom. She dries off and slips into a white nightshirt, like a short Arab thobe and purple panties. She spreads a towel on the carpet in the sun. Gathering a few things, she lays down, enjoying the warmth of the light that streams in through the skylight above.
Closing her eyes, Judith again visualizes her lover, how he crouches between her long legs, the look of wondrous delight in his dazzling face. He approaches her like a rare substance that he must understand with all his senses. She strokes her labia through the soft cotton. She reaches under it, lightly drawing her fingertips across her vulva. All of the muscles in her vagina are pulsing, wanting to grip her fingers, to be filled with his cock. She pulls off her shirt and feels the cool air against her bare skin, her nipples are as hard as little towers.
She caresses herself to bring to life these memories in her own sensations. Her body responds. Her spirit rises. Her panties come off and she broadly parts her legs. Her petals open to her lover like a flower in the sun. Heliotropic. Her fingers, as he requests, become her lover's, combing her long fur up and out of the way. Judith pulls her outer labia apart and strokes the delicate petals of her lips, plying them, probing gently until every part of her is craving her lover's touch. She is slippery and the slide of her fingers pretends to be his mouth and tongue. Her hips are lifting and describing small circles as she strokes herself lightly. She spreads Vitamin E on her labia to make them even more slippery and soft. Her caressing fingers begin to press with a rhythmic pressure, her fingers part her lips, stroking deeper and deeper. She explores the inside of her vagina pushing against the soft cushioned walls that seem to feel the slightest movement. She squeezes and tightens on one or two, even three fingers, squeezing them with her legs as she rolls her hips, caressing herself, rocking against her fingers, feeling them slide in and out. With her other hand she caresses her breasts and pulls gently on her dark nipples. Her hips are high, her back is arching, lifting the petals closer to the sun. The skylight in her room and the afternoon sky is like looking up into his blue eyes.
She is distracted by the sensation of being touched while she is touching, so she finds her smooth wooden handle and covers it with soft cloth. She can push against this, can let it penetrate, not far, perhaps an inch, but it is a familar shape and allows her to feel more like one half of a couple, rather than both at once. Judith finds it hard to explain her recent appetite for masturbating while pressing this handle into her pussy. She feels she is innately modest and had never done this until recently when her desire to have him inside her became too great to bear.
She takes the handle in its cloth and closes her legs around it as she lays in the sunlight stroking gently against her clitoris, enjoying the ripples of delight that expand through her, like sparkeling little circles on a pond. Opening her legs, she presses the tool into herself just enough to create resistance, pressing it rhythmically as her fingers comb through her fur, sliding down to embrace her clitoris between two caressing fingers. She presses firmly, quickening to a fucking pace, lovingly rocking against her own firm touch, rocking against her tool.
She wants so badly to caress him and take him into her mouth and into her pussy, to feel the thrust of his perfect hips and bottom pounding against her in the rhythm of a raging sea. Her feet planted on the carpet, she curls her hips upward, undulating as she swims in the sweet knowledge that her lover rejoices and returns her love in full measure.
Her hunger builds to a desperate fever. Rising in her nest, Judith kneels on the floor, knees apart and presses the tool to her pussy, pressing it inward in slow, loving movements. Her hips roll against the touch as she presses it into herself. Plying her tender lips, stroking her clitoris against it, her body rolling to the rhythm of her raging passion. Again his image emerges from the fog of her escillating arrousal. He leanes back on a stack of pillows to watch her as she kisses and caresses him from the soles of his feet, slowly working her way up, she is stroking him and letting him move through her grip. Kissing all around his cock, with the intoxicating scent of their sex, the silken fur on his stomach, the divine countours of his chest and shoulders. How can she resist? She can't.
Judith sees herself reaching down and taking her lover in her hands, grasping him firmly and moving him against her mound as she straddles him. As Judith feels him penetrate her hard. She rises on her thighs, drawing her clenched pussy along the length of his cock, stroking him, finding all the places they touch inside that release incredible showers of delight. Judy leans forward, holding her tool in both hands, rocking briskly. Her thrusts settle into a euphoric pace as she finds that spot, chasing the brilliance. She is looking into her lover's eyes when she see's the well of his soul overflow, feels his scalding gouts jet against her womb. Sheets of heat lightning flash through her mind and soul reaching her heart as she kneals alone, shivering on the floor of her bedroom. She clasps the wooden handle with her muscles, clenching it with her thighs, holding on as long as she can while her spasms of ecstasy gently dissipate.
When she's finished, the ache remains. She wants him in her arms, She wants to feel their bodies like his hand in her glove, tight, warm, wet. To feel him slip out and lay beside her, smiling, exhausted, and content. To kiss him over and over. To wake him up in the morning with new surprises. To find a thousand more ways and reasons to love him.



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