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All day, she has been looking forward to coming home — since early this morning, her arousal has been strong. Every time she stands up or sits down, her clit rubs against her panties, and she has to bite her lip to stifle a moan. The hours at the office tick by slowly. By the time she arrives home, it is nearly too much for her.
But in the evening, she is exhausted and not sure she has the energy to give herself pleasure. She removes her clothes and puts on a pale blue silk robe which hits the middle of her shapely calves. She sits down, grimacing as her clit makes contact with her silk panties, and tries to read. She tries to finish work that she left undone. But to no avail. She cannot help reaching down every now and then and massaging her mound through her panties with her index and middle fingers. As she sits in a chair by the window, the gentle pressure of her own fingers makes her lean her head back, close her eyes, and moan softly. “Oh, my…” Her middle finger presses a little harder than she expected. “Oh, my!” She calls out, her eyes flying open, her low, breathy voice rather loud in the empty room. Panting, she puts her laptop down on the end table and gets up to pour herself a glass of wine, trying to resist the urge to strip and drive herself mad.
She goes upstairs to her bedroom. There, she paces, sipping a glass of Merlot and contemplating the large bed in the center of the room. It is covered with white satin sheets, and it beckons to her. Her exhaustion is melting away as her body grows warm and languorous with her temptation to touch herself. Her clit is already swollen from her touching it indirectly downstairs, and she feels it craving her hands upon it, again. In preparation, she takes a silver bullet vibrator from her night table drawer and puts it on the bed.
She slips off her robe and ivory silk panties, and we see a glorious body. A long, swanlike neck, firm, beautiful breasts topped with nipples the color of berries to match her exquisite full lips, elegantly curved shoulders — not too slim and not too broad, but just enough to carry her lovely breasts proudly — a flat belly, hips that curve outward just slightly, and endless legs. Her smooth olive skin is flawless.
Her face is utterly arresting. Mesmerizing green eyes haunt the onlooker. A pert nose and lips that leave broken hearts in their path draw gazes wherever she goes. Dark tresses tumble about her oval face, making her appear a mystery to all who see her.
With a sigh, casino oyna she sits down on her bed, listening to the springs creak in the silence of her bedroom. She lies down, closing her eyes. For a moment, she merely enjoys the comfort of her bed, allowing her body to sink into the soft mattress.
But her desire will not be sated. Slowly, so slowly, she reaches up and lightly touches the right side of her long neck — a place where she is particularly sensitive. Her eyes flutter closed, and she lets out a long sigh as her fingers glide down her skin, tilting her head to the opposite side, slightly. She touches the base of her throat and then lifts her other hand. After a second of hesitation, both of her elegant hands cup her breasts.
“Ohhhh,” she groans, as her hands gently massage her breasts, feeling the warmth spread throughout her belly. Her hips rise a little bit as her hands knead her own flesh. Then her thumbs touch her nipples, and she freezes, her hips still in the air. Her eyes and her mouth open as the shock of pleasure reverberates through her, and she feels a jolt between her legs. “EH!” She cries helplessly.
With one thumb rotating her hardening left nipple, she ever so slowly slides the other down her slender body. Her fingers encounter a place slightly under her navel, on the left side, a place she has always found incredibly sensitive. She gasps, pausing for a moment. After a few seconds of attempting to find her breath, she continues lower.
Her right hand strokes the silky inside of her thigh. “Ohhhh,” she moans, her voice is beginning to sound pleading, now. She bends one leg at the knee, so her sole is flat upon the bed, and she pulls it up toward her body. “Ahhhh,” she moans as the cool satin slides against the ultra-sensitive skin of her foot, tilting her head to the side. Slowly, she runs her fingers along the outer lips of her secret place.
She circles her index finger around and around the edges of lips, and she is not able to suppress a soft sound. “Oooh…” She begins to tap the hood of her clit with her index and middle fingers, feeling each tap throughout her upper body and flinching slightly, but the sensation is not as intense as she knows it will be in mere moments. As she presses down gently on the hood of her clit, her breath begins to come a little faster, and a lovely warmth spreads through her body. “Mmmm,” she moans on a sigh.
Her finger brushes her clit. She freezes. “AHHH!” She calls. Her long neck arches, her canlı casino eyes widen, and her mouth gapes open. For a few moments which feel like hours, she cannot breathe — her hand hovers near the shockingly-sensitive bud, and she hesitates to touch it, again. But something propels her to do so, and she takes a deep, deep breath before touching her fingertip to it. She gasps at the touch. But suddenly, even that touch is not enough. Her body is shifting on the bed, rubbing against the satin, warm and waiting and ready.
She presses her clit gently with her middle finger, and the shock of sensation arches her back off the bed. “Oh! Oh, my!” She cries out. And that’s it. That’s all she can bear of slow. She repeats this again and again. Presses clit, arches back like a bowstring, and calls out: “Ahhhh!”
She strums her clit like a guitar, and the waves of pleasure begin to overwhelm her. Her head thrashes back and forth, tangling her raven hair. She rubs her clit like a madwoman, moving her index and middle fingers with speed, pressing down a little more now and then. She can no longer see the ceiling above her — all she sees is a white haze.
Her back is arched, keeping the rest of her body tense and on edge. “Ah! Ahhhh!” She calls, hearing her own sultry voice in her ears as if from a distance. Her chest and neck arch, lifting her beautiful breasts higher into the air.
She picks up the small vibrator lying next to her and switches it onto the lowest setting. After a second’s pause, she touches it to her clit, and she feels the pleasure in every limb. Her lovely face grimaces.
It does not take long for the lower part of her body to grow warm and heavy — her orgasm is coming, and soon. She knows it. She can feel it. She takes the vibe away for a moment — she has to, because the pleasure is too intense for her to bear for another moment, even with the vibe on low. She lies on the bed, breathing heavily, trying to recover. Then erotic images come back to her — a man shouting and throwing his head back in his own pleasure, the sound of his deep, trembling voice as he begs her, pleading with her, the cords in his neck straining as he arches above her. And with a gasp, she returns the vibe to her clit, crying out the second it makes contact. “Ahhhhh!” Her eyes bulge, and her mouth falls open. She lifts her foot from the bed and points her toe like a ballet dancer.
“B-ehhhhhh!” She brays like a donkey, her beautiful face contorted in an expression which, kaçak casino if she weren’t in the midst of such demolishing pleasure, she would find silly. Her dainty foot falls back to the bed and on both feet, her toes clench. She drops the vibe again — it is too much. She begins to rub her clit, but it is not long before the hand she is stroking her clit with trembles and jerks — her smooth rhythm is gone. She is too far along — her orgasm is too close. Her hips rise into the air as her fingers, trembling, find her opening and slide into it; the slickness allows her fingers deeper access than she intends, and the sudden burst of pleasure makes her body jolt sharply and draws a shocked “AH!” from her lips.
With her other hand, fumbling and shaking as it is, she grabs the bullet vibe and turns it on. The moment it touches her clit, her head presses back into the pillow, her eyes widen to saucers, and her perfect crimson lips form an “O,” and she pushes air through them. If she were able to make a sound, it would be an “ooooh” of dazed pleasure as the vibe thrums against her clit. But she can make no sound — her throat does not cooperate. Her lips move, as she wants to cry out, to shout that she’s on the verge of being shattered by ecstasy, but no sound comes.
In the next instant, she cannot take anymore — she knows it’s coming. She hangs in limbo for a moment in the instant before it happens. And then, almost in slow motion, her clit gives an astonishingly powerful throb. Her mouth opens wide, her eyes are bulging, and she yells. She cannot help it — the sensation is too intense for a mere whimper or a shriek — she yells. “AHHH!” Another mind-shattering pulse. “OH!” And then, a series of convulsions shake her. “Ah! Ah! Oh! Eh! Uhhhhh!” She screams into the quiet room, her hips arching up, her hand trembling as it holds the vibe between her legs, and her head thrashing back and forth.
She holds the bullet vibe against her clit until it stops pulsing, until even the smallest throbs pass. Then her fingers uncurl from the vibe limply, and she turns it off with her thumb. It rolls out of her grip onto the bed by her side. She lies gasping, her heart beating fast, a light sweat upon her skin. Her eyes are closing.
The power of the orgasm has relaxed her and is putting her to sleep. She tries to fight it for only a second, but then the warm comfort of her bed and the languid laxness of her muscles overtake her, and she sleeps. The darkness of night comes, she doesn’t notice. The next morning, when the dawn breaks, she will not notice until nearly noon — she will sleep so deeply, she will not even notice the sun bathing her bedroom in vibrant light.
For now, we let her sleep.
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