Post-thanksgiving masturbation, a poem [F, 27]

I ripped off the tight dress I wore
The low cut one that follows the shape of my body
With the buttery soft, touchable fabric
Peeled off my panties and bra
And crawled into bed

I settled into the covers
Nipples hard from the air on my bare skin
Reveled in the sensation of blankets caressing me
Temperature rising
Excitement building

It feels so good to be alone

My hands wander
Touching, squeezing
Grabbing my phone to look at dirty subreddits
Finding inspiration
Getting wetter and wetter

The anticipation is so sweet
Teasing myself
Sending divine tingles straight to my pussy
She begs for me to touch her
But I take my time

I’m begging for it

From my nightstand, I pull out a toy
A tiny thing that vibrates deliciously
Starting with my hard nipples
Dragging it down slowly
Making myself tremble

When I finally get there
And slip my little toy between my lips
The sound that escapes me is primal
Raw desire and warm pleasure
Oozing onto my thighs

I’m already so close

My hips thrust of their own accord
Grinding, begging
I slip it inside
Overwhelming myself with rumbly bliss
Walls convulsing

Soon it overtakes me
Back arching, clit throbbing
Animalistic ecstasy
It seems to last forever
With my little toy still buzzing inside me

Another one is coming

One rolls into the next
I’m a writhing, sweating mess of orgasms
Whimpering and moaning into the night
Convulsing and gyrating
Losing myself to self pleasure

I lose count of how many
But the clock says it’s been an hour
And I stopped counting at 7
I can’t get enough of myself
I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop

I want more

I fuck myself until my body goes weak
Shaking with otherworldly pleasure
Catching my breath
Every movement is ecstatic
Laying in wetness and contentment

Drifting off to sleep is easy in this state
Completely and utterly spent
Satisfied and satiated
Warm all over, inside and out
Few things feel better

It’s been a very good night

NSFW: yes


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