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Sunday Morning

Posted by: Age: 26 Posted on: 11 comments
22 likes 6052 views Category: Masturbation Female Solo Tags: Solo, fantasy, cousin
Just another Sunday morning.

I woke up as I usually do, and immediately made coffee. It's a morning ritual. Of all the things I may or may not be, I am decidedly not a morning person. This one ritual trip to make coffee, drink it, and finally wake up is a distraction. It's a delay- a necessary delay to be sure, but a delay nevertheless from what I actually want to do. And what I actually want to do is fuck myself. I'm alone, and in my cousin's townhouse in Washington, DC. I come here almost every weekend when she is away, which she is now for an extended period of time. My cousin is ten years older than I am, and is one of the very few family members that I have any contact at all with. I left home when I was eighteen, and never returned or looked back. Somehow, through all of the family turmoil that I went through, the two of us managed to remain close. So it is Sunday morning, and I am sitting in her kitchen drinking coffee, and trying to wake up... Soon, I know what I'll be doing. I'll be masturbating. It isn't something I might do or will think about doing. It's something that I do every morning, and have to do in the morning. When I awake, the very first cogent, waking thoughts that I have are about fucking myself. Through that morning haze of waking up, only those thoughts have any clarity at all. It doesn't matter where I am, or what the day holds. No part of my day can begin until I address that urgent need between my legs and pleasure myself. Before the first cup of coffee is finished, I can feel the effect, and it starts to take hold. The coffee is strong and I drink it black. In front of me on the table is a newspaper. I'm reading it, but the words are no longer of importance, and I don't pay attention to them or remember them. The need and desire between my legs is taking over, and starting to command all of my attention. I'm wearing my cousin's robe. Slowly, deliberately, I undo the sash, and let it fall away. I gently loosen the robe to where it partially covers me as I sit at the table. I close my eyes, and the fantasy part of all of this begins to form in my mind. It's an impromptu fantasy, and I don't know where it will take me. I picture my cousin sitting across from me. She is in every way beautiful. Her body is sculpted, and her legs are long and inviting. I've often considered her legs to be her finest feature. I suspect I feel that way not only because they are beautiful and sensual, but because I so desperately want to experience what is between them. I lean back in the chair and fully expose my breasts. My fingers gently stroke the contours, and eventually find my nipples, which are erect and inviting my touch. My breathing is enhanced, and I start to moan. My body starts to quiver, and no longer can I deny the need between my legs. I part my legs, lower my head, and begin to touch myself. Brief, teasing touches. I'm at that point where I could push myself over the edge and orgasm anytime. And greedily, a part of me wants to do exactly that. Practiced experience has taught me that it will be so much better if I don't. It's time to go to my cousin's bedroom. I always sleep in the guest bedroom, even when she is not there. But this morning, I retreat to her bedroom to fuck myself right over the edge. Some how, some way, this seems to bring me closer to her. To fuck myself in the place where she sleeps. Naked, I kneel beside her bed and spread my legs. I masturbate frequently in a kneeling position. About a year ago, I discovered that I possessed a distinctly submissive side. So I kneel in supplication, and begin to pleasure myself. I begin to touch myself. My slit is exposed, open, and the wetness is overwhelming. I probe that wetness with my index finger, and then raise it to my lips. I gently trace my lips with that wetness. I imagine the taste of it to be my cousin's. Her legs spread before me as I pleasure her with my mouth and tongue... Oh God how I want to experience that! To simply kneel before her and bury my face between her legs. Her little, younger cousin. Her little, younger cousin that wants nothing more than to be forced to her knees before her and made to bury her face between her legs for her pleasure. God, Christ, why can't she use me for that. Use me like a whore and a slut to please her... Any patience that I had before is swept away in that moment and with that thought. My actions take over without thought, and it is now purely instinct. Gone are the light touches, and I'm now furiously thrusting two fingers into my wet cunt. Yes, my cunt! That is what it is. A raw, guttural, demanding thing that completely controls my actions. The sensations are overwhelming. The smell of my cunt permeates the entire room. I thrust wildly and with complete abandon. I shudder and scream with each thrust. Yes. Please. Fuck me... Fuck me... Fuck me... The orgasm hits me full on and takes me. I shove my fingers forcefully into my body as far as they will go, and the contractions take me away. They take me to another world, another reality. A place where this earth and all that goes with it are irrelevant. I don't know how long it lasts. I rarely do. When I recover, I find myself laying on my side on the floor. My fingers are still deep within my body and are impaling me. I'm about to be overtaken by that feeling of satisfaction and warmth that accompanies an orgasm. And I decide not to allow that to happen. Not now, and not this time. Usually, once is enough. But not now. Long ago I learned how to work through that and not to surrender to it, and this morning I would do neither. I removed my fingers from my body, and began stimulating my clit with my index finger. I was in a race with the instincts of my body. My body was telling me to surrender, and my clit was unresponsive. I kept working it, and working it. Damn it- fuck. Don't give in. Don't surrender... I fucking want this again. I want this again and I want it now. After who knows how long, my anger and determination was rewarded. I could feel the need and urgency returning. Complacency and warmth was being replaced by raw need and lust. By my cousin's bedside was a hair brush. It had a white handle that was thickest at the end, and tapered down where it met the bristles. I grab it greedily. I knew that her hands held it countless times, and knowing that, I thrust it into my cunt hungrily. I laid on my back, spread my legs wide, and gripped the bristle end of the brush with both hands while furiously and forcibly fucking myself with it. I started to pound myself with it, impaling my body with it. Yes! Christ yes. Please, please fuck me harder! I wanted this to hurt. Because I knew that soon the pain and pleasure would reach an intersection point. Those sensations would come together, and take me over the edge and take me away. This is what I wanted. This was my dream and fantasy at that moment. After burying my face in my cousin's cunt, I wanted her to fuck me hard. To fuck me like you would fuck a whore. Just take me and fuck me hard and without remorse. Oh God, it came upon me quickly and without warning. It was one of those exceedingly rare orgasms that I live for and pray for. One in which you completely lose yourself, and one where the individual spasms and contractions become one long, unrecognizable full body spasm. I was screaming and convulsing with it. It was orgasm and seizure all as one. Finally, it subsided. Not all at once. The after cums and spasms let me down gently. In complete opposite to the fury and pounding that got me there in the first place. I laid there for awhile on the floor. I didn't move immediately because I didn't want to, and also from a practical standpoint, I couldn't move even if I did want to. The hairbrush was still impaling my body. As sanity returned, it occurred to me what a ridiculous sight I must be. Laying naked on my back, covered in sweat, hands and thighs smeared with my cum, and a hair brush sticking out of my body... I was noticeably sore. Slowly, I removed the brush, and began to recover myself. I knew the soreness would last for a few days as a reminder of this. So be it. In terms of a trade off or sacrifice for what I had just experienced, this was a very small and paltry price to pay. I looked at the clock, and was surprised. Morning was about to transition into the afternoon. This had lasted much longer than I thought it had. Soon I would have to prepare to return home. Another Sunday morning had passed. I just thought I would share it with you...

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