Thursday Afternoon

Thursday afternoons are always the dullest day of the week, where my need for you is felt most keenly. For some reason, the weather always seems to mirror my mood. Streaks of rain flash across my window, glittering streaks against an otherwise gray sky.

Dressed only in my pink nighty, I assess myself in the mirror, turning to see the delicate lace of my nighty as it cups the line of my ass. The underwear is too pretty to be hidden beneath clothing; it demands to be seen, to be torn from my body in a passionate rage. My fingers sneak beneath the cups of my bra, and I roll my nipples beneath my needy fingers. Half-watching myself in the mirror, I imagine that I am watching a peep show. The stranger in the mirror twists her nipples, gasps in pain. I want so desperately to be on display for you; to have you command me in self-pleasure.

A devilish idea takes root. I know that you are busy. I know how hectic your schedule is. And yet, I want to distract you; to draw you to me.

Grabbing my phone, I recline across my bed, I slip my underwear from my body and marvel at the delicious depravity of my nudity. I position the camera so that it captures the image of my masturbation. My body fills the screen wantonly. I do not want there to be any ambiguity within my message; I want you to see me in all my whorey desperation. I push my fingers against my clit. Rubbing in intense circles, kissing my needy pussy with adoration.

My mind wanders; a montage of your prowess plays. I imagine you kissing me, biting my nipples, forcing your cock deep into my pussy. My eyes flutter shut. My lips part. I moan your name. When the throes of my orgasm have subsided, I send you the video. You will be tempted by this, my siren song, and it will compel you towards me as sure as any magic spell. You are bound to me, bewitched.

Languidly, I stretch my limbs across the vast savannah of my bed. It is lonely without you, the sheets a poor imitation of the warmth and comfort of your body.

Although I try to pretend otherwise, I am also captivated by you. You are an addiction, a need.

After a few frustrating minutes, I hear the door burst open. In your haste, you skid into the room, already stripping off your shirt. I am transfixed by the sinews of your arm, which move as you throw off your jeans. You pull off your boxers and your circumcised cock springs free.

You throw yourself onto the bed, claim my mouth with yours.

“Do you have long?” I ask, frantically reaching for your cock and stroking you to hardness.

“No,” you whisper as you kiss my neck, twisting my hair round your hand and pulling my head back. Your hand skims across my abdomen, a symphony across my skin. You play with my wetness, slipping a finger into my sodden pussy.

I spit into my hand -- we do not have the time for me to search the drawer to find the lube -- and wrap my fingers around your girth.

Struggling to contain the sheer mass of your cock in one hand, I focus my attention on your tip, playing with you until you moan.

“More,” you command, your voice rough with desire.

Obediently, I begin to move my wrist more frantically, capturing the length of your long, thick cock. Not satisfied with my hand, you flip me over, position my ass so that my holes are on display, ready to be filled. You caress my ass, the heat from your palm smoothing over my cool skin. I moan with shameless desire.

“Please fuck me, daddy,” I beg.

You tear my arms from beneath me and pin them behind my back. My face falls onto the pillow and I am forced to use my core strength to keep myself in position. Completely under your control, I am immobilized, unable to thrust back against you as you slowly, luxuriantly slide your cock into my pussy, stretching me wide.

Your strong hand grips my both arms, holding them tightly. The size of your huge hands compared to my thin arms makes me feel small and girly and I melt into your masculinity. Placing pressure on my lower back, you manipulate my ass further in the air, giving you greater access to the depth of my needy pussy.

Your strokes are slow, languid and you plunge your cock into my pussy, finding my g spot. Your free hand creeps under me and you feel for my throat. I am surrounded by you, immobilized by your strength, revelling in the delight of your sex.

“Yes,” I breathe.

The orgasm that washes over me is intense but controlled, waves of pleasure that build and leave me crying, shaking in your arms. Your face presses into my shoulder and the touch of your lips, combined with the pressure of your body, the rolling of your hips, sends me over the abyss again. Lost within the velveteen folds of hedonism, I am swept away by the intensity of my orgasm, which tears through my body. It feels so much like falling, an overwhelming sensation that I cannot control. I am grateful for your strong arms, grateful that you keep me in bondage, keeping me tethered to myself even as your cock threatens me with pleasure.

My pussy spasms around your cock, massaging you until the intensity overwhelms you. Through gritted teeth, you mutter my name, plunging into me with ferocity until you cum inside of me.

Releasing my arms, you collapse onto my back, kissing my neck. Your body is warm, enticing and I nuzzle into your comforting embrace. You stroke my hair.

“I guess you'll have to head back,” I say softly, praying that my tone does not betray my sadness.

You sigh. “I guess,” you murmur, but you make no motion to leave. Fluffing the pillow, you draw the duvet over yourself.

“I don't want you getting into trouble.”

You grin. “I took the rest of the day off the second I saw your video. Luckily, I had a vacation day that needed using.” You kiss me deeply. “You looked so sexy that I knew there was no way either of us would be satisfied with a quickie.” Still kissing me, your hand moves to my clit, and you begin to move in slow circles round the sensitive bud. “But if you want me to go, I can…”

“No,” I say. The word escapes my lips in a half-choked panic. I am on the brink of another orgasm, terrified that you will cruelly pull away before I can reach a climax.

You take my phone and position it on the bedside table so that it is focused on my face. “Cum for me,” you whisper, slipping your index finger into my overflowing pussy.

Unable to resist, I allow myself to lose myself to the sensations, clutching your back, my long nails raking your skin. The orgasm overtakes me, contracting my muscles, arching my back and leaving me a shaking mess of pleasure.

Smiling at my still convulsing body, you push me to your cock. I take you deep within my mouth, habitually obedient. You taste like mutual pleasure, the sweet saltiness of our combined fluids mixed together on the throbbing hardness of your cock. I lap at you greedily, swirling my tongue around your tip. My fingers massage your balls. You let out a carnal moan.

Suddenly, before your body succumbs to temptation, you grasp my hair and pull me off of you.

“I need coffee,” you state.

“But” I pout.

You smile cruelly, so handsome that it leaves me breathless. “Caffeine first. Then we can continue.”

With a sigh, I tear myself away from the bed, from your body, and slink to grab my robe.

You stop me with a warning glance. “I want to watch you leave.”

I grin, saunter away slowly, rolling my hips. I like the sight of you, bundled under the duvet. I like the ease with which you slip into my days. I leave the door open behind me, ready for my return.