Here I am again, sprawled out on this bed in nothing but your large jumper, staring into the abyss of a blank wall. It's funny how the mind can conjure shapes and stories out of nothingness. In this jumper, in this position, I can almost feel you behind me with your hard cock pushed against my ass, too lazy to move now, but promising to fuck me through the headboard later. I trace the lines where the white paint meets the corner, wondering who painted this wall. I wonder if they look like you do in those jeans you wore when you threatened to paint my room black to match my mood. The silence is obvious, yet oddly comforting, like a soft mist concealing my intentions. I want to fill that silence with moans and dirty talk and music, but I’ve always been quieter than most. You were the noise.
My mind drifts, flicking through memories of you and your firm hands on my neck when you had me at your mercy. Immediately I can feel my body respond the way you trained me to. Nothing but marks left behind gets me there anymore. I resist, wanting to break the cage you trapped me in when you crafted my lust in your image. It's frantic, really, the way I can’t ignore this. It’s like physical pain. Like a bright red disruption thrown haphazardly against my walls, slowly dripping down onto the perfect white floors. The straitjacket of my control unravels as I squeeze my thighs together and release them. Almost before I’m aware of it, I move my hands down and rest a finger lightly on my clit. I haven’t committed yet, but I know it's inevitable, and I need this like the cracking of glass on a new ship. We deserve a sendoff.
I slowly rub my clit. Eyes on the wall as I take a languid exploration of my opening, finding it wet and warm and wanting. I try to keep the jumper from my wetness, but I take the hem at the bottom and use the roughness to tease my clit until I see a small wet stain on the otherwise perfect material. I reach for the vibrator you bought me and turn it on to the lowest setting. I start slowly running the blunt vibrating tip up and down my slit thinking about how far I’ll go today. Should I go fast or slow? Should I go until the battery fails? I feel my nerves tense and spark. It’s not quiet anymore. I can hear my breathing audible over the hum of the vibrator. I should have let you buy me a quieter one; you were right.
I push the tip of the vibrator in with little resistance. I wait, fiddling with the button to make the vibrations stronger. Almost as soon as I increase it, I find myself rocking against the shaft in a practiced rhythm. I need to slow down, so I shift into a different position. I’m on my hands and knees now, with my hand reaching back to hold the vibrator in place, and I hold my arm still as I let the momentum of my rocking plunge the shaft in and out. I move faster, the pink rabbit ears teasing my clit as I move to the silence. I can feel the heat moving down my spine. I know it’s too soon to cum with any real release, but it also seems fitting that it’s done too soon.
