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Bedtime Playtime

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by Kristi I lay on the bed, naked, the sheets cool against my warm skin. My arms rise to gently lift the hair from my neck so that the coolness can reach there too.A delicate thrill races through me as I revel in the thought of the moments to come. My hands, which had come to rest on my stomach, slowly creep upwards. I force myself to resist the urge to go straight to my aching nipples. Instead my fingers trail lightly in a large circle around each breast, a circle that slowly, achingly spirals inward. I savor the feel of my skin, soft and smooth. Wet warmth floods between my legs as my fingers encounter the metal of the rings that pierce my hardened nipples. The rings have been such a part of me for these months that it amazes me that I still find myself shocked and aroused at their existence. Gentle tugs on them cause more sweet wetness to form between my legs. Will power has never been a virtue of mine, and it’s inevitable that my fingers waste no time in moving down to play in the slickness of my pussy. The slight stubble from not having shaved recently only adds to the sensations as I touch and stroke myself. The soft abrasion of it is such a contrast with the silky smoothness when I slip a finger inside me. I feel my breath catching, the feelings building in me.... It’s time. My legs spread slightly wider, my fingers slipping in my juices as I use my middle two fingers to massage my throbbing clit. Slowly I caress and tease myself, forcing my body to remain still, to concentrate on the feelings my fingers are creating. Waiting for that one sensation.... the hook.... the one that will catch me up within it and propel me right over the edge. Almost....but no. A slight move of my hand and yet again....almost....but no. Another shift, ever so slightly, and there, right there. Oh yes....THAT spot. Any other thoughts fly from my mind. All thought, all sensation, all consciousness focus on that one hot sweet spot. My fingers work manically, my hips joining them in their frantic rhythm. Then comes the wave, the first pulsing wave of release. A whimper is torn from my mouth as they grow in intensity and ripple through me. My fingers continue their merciless work until I can’t take it any longer and I force myself to pull them away, slipping them in my mouth for a tangy distraction. I lay there, panting and hot, shifting on the bed for a cool spot to soothe my hot skin. It’s all I can do to reach for a plump and cool pillow to rest my head on before I drift into a deep and satisfied sleep.

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