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FREETIME sucked softly teasingly imagining her finger
This is a work of adult fiction and should be read only by
adults. It is also my work. Although I receive no compensation
other than your comments, it is still my work. Please respect
this and do not repost it somewhere else without talking to me
first about it. If you are not allowed to read works with sexual
content, either due to your age or by virtue of the laws in the
geographical location in which you reside, please do not
continue.
Enjoy, and if you're so inclined, please let me know what you
think.
Alexis (ealexissiefert@yahoo.com)
~~~~~~~~~~~
Free Time (F solo)
She sighed deeply and let her body sink into the water. The bubbles
tickled her nose, but she didn't bother raising her hand to flick
them away. As her ears dipped below the level of the water, she
could hear the water rushing through the pipes. There was a
rhythmic 'swish-swish' somewhere in the house, telling her that the
washing machine was filling, or perhaps the dishwasher
had moved into its rinse mode, whatever. Just so long as it didn't
require her to get up.
The wind was beating against the window above the tub. Its
incessant rapping sounded like a jealous neighbor, begging to be
let in the house. She giggled softly at the thought of the
anthropomorphic wind knocking at the pane of glass. An image sprang
unbidden to her mind of the wind in human form--a lovely Native
woman, full and hips, fertility personified,
blowing wildly around her face as the breeze whipped playfully
through the black tresses.
She let her mind drift, her thoughts fading as the steam, pregnant
with lavender scent, surrounded her face and filled her nostrils.
The sales clerk swore to her that lavender was relaxing, "aroma
therapy" the clerk called it. She didn't know if it was the scent,
the steam, or just the knowledge that she had an hour to herself
that was relaxing her. It didn't matter.
Her brain shifted out of conscious thoughts into a series of
images, drawn out of her body by the beckoning wind. It was as
though her body was separate from her being. She floated above the
water, looking down at the body below her, critically examining it
in a detached manner. She knew she was looking at her own form, but
it seemed so foreign. The body below her looked so lovely, so
womanly, not at all how she pictured herself when she peered into
the mirror every morning. The woman in the tub had long legs; well,
long for her height. Her hips were softly rounded, framing her
concave belly. Perhaps a bit too sharp in her hipbones, she knew
that she needed to put on another few pounds or so, but the effect
was still pleasant.
Her eyes traveled upward, tracing the delicate ribcage pausing
briefly to watch her pulse beat in the hollow below her sternum.
The skin of her was flushed with the heat of the tub and
they bobbed gently in the water in time with her slow, relaxed
breathing. Around small shoulders, her pale hair floated, softly
swaying, swirling around her face. Her lips were full, which had
been a point of contention with her until it became fashionable and
the superstars were injecting their thin mouths to change
their shape. She had heard snicker when looking at pictures of
these full-mouthed women, referring to their "dsl's." It took
months of discrete eves dropping for her to finally overhear the
phrase "dick-sucking-lips" instead of the cryptic abbreviation. She
knew at that moment that she had a mouth designed to frame a man's
cock, lips meant to nestle a cockhead between, and suddenly, in
spite of herself, her mouth was beautiful to her.
She reached down with her mind's fingers, imagining their touch on
the pale skin of the body in the water below her. The body
responded with its own fingers, brushing a fingertip over those
lips, and she was pulled back into herself. She shivered a bit and
parted her lips pushing her finger between her teeth, over her
tongue. She felt her teeth scrape along her skin
and her nail drew an invisible line over her dark tongue. She
sucked softly, teasingly, imagining her finger as a cock, pulsing
between her lips. As she her fingertip, her other hand
fluttered over her neck, feeling her pulse pick up as her breathing
quickened.
Her fingers wrapped around her tiny throat, pressing slightly,
wondering what it would feel like to have a man's hand wrapped
there, cutting off her wind as his body pounded into her.
The CD player mounted to the wall clicked softly as the CD ended
and started its loop again. Soon soft strains of Franco Corelli's
lamenting tenor aria from 'I Pagliacci' filled the room. The
mournful, insistent tones reached under the water, vibrating
against her belly and the stroking touch of her fingers quickened
to meet its rhythm.
Her fingertips brushed over the tops of her breasts, leaving warm
trails on her heated skin. She was slightly surprised to find that
her nipples were already hardened, erect, pushing away
from her small, round as if they were straining towards her
lingering fingers. She twisted her nipples gently between her
thumbs and forefingers, working both in tandem. Twin sparks
shot through her body from her to the center of her sex,
and she gasped. Her fingers tightened their grip on her sensitive
peaks, twisting her nipples more forcefully. She drew
her knees up, and her thighs spread, coming to rest against the
tile sides of the tub. The contrast between the warmth of the water
and the cooler air of the room served only to heighten the feelings
suddenly building so strongly within her.
One hand left her and drifted down, stroking lightly over
the taut skin of her belly, hovering over the small tattoo at her
hip--a Celtic harp--the only remnant of her brief rebellious
period. Her fingers found the cleft of her sex, and she paused,
hovering just at her opening, hesitantly stroking her outer lips.
This was not an act she normally found comfortable, never mind
exciting. Despite being raised in the enlightened decade of the
70's, she was raised to believe that pleasure was not the purview
of a woman; she was supposed to 'close her eyes and think of other
things,' to quote her prim-and-proper mother. However, the
butterfly flutterings in her belly forced the reservations from her
mind, pushed her past her 'moral' protests.
Her fingers began, for the first time, to truly explore that most
secret place within her. As her fingertips parted her lips to dip
into the slippery moisture there, her thumb grazed lightly over the
swelling button above. Her breath caught in her throat, and her
clit twitched under her touch. The music lifted and swelled through
the room, shaking the glass in the window as the tenor's voice drew
her further into her own passions. Her fingers dug insistently
between her lips, no longer hesitant and unable to fight her
natural instincts. She felt her inner muscles clench around her
fingertips as she pushed one, then two fingers deep
inside her pussy. A moan escaped her lips as she stretched her
fingers, opening herself wider, feeling her body respond to the
intrusion. Her thumb stayed perched atop her rock hard, swollen
clit, rolling it in hard circles against her body. Water swirled
around her as her hand began to move faster, thrusting deeply into
her soaking pussy. The water flowed into her opening
with each thrust, filling her further. Her body began to shudder,
her hips bucked up against her hand. She gripped the tile side of
the tub with her free hand, gasping for breath as her face slipped
below the water again and again. Her body spasmed violently,
wracked with her orgasm. It was the sound of her own voice that
called her out of her reverie. A soft moaning reached her ears
under the water, and she slowly caught her breath. Her fingers were
still buried deeply between her shaking legs, and her body quivered
in seismic aftershocks.
Slowly, she allowed the warm water to calm her again, and she
slowed her breathing until she felt confident enough of her own
strength to stand. Stepping from the tub, wrapping the towel around
her dripping body, she moved to the bedroom, taking note of the
luminescent glow of the clock on the wall. She smiled realizing
that she still had 30 minutes left before her was due home.