Читать книгу Who's Loving You - Mary B. Morrison - Страница 17

My pussy. My pleasure.

Fucking Grant was my preference, but having a man penetrate me wasn’t necessary in order for me to have a satisfying orgasm. I spread a black mink throw on the patio beyond the sliding glass door outside my bedroom. The stars surrounded the moon as I inhaled the cool midnight breeze.

“Ah, every night should be this peaceful.” I bet God got upset whenever He blessed us with a beautiful day that we didn’t take time to appreciate. It was up to me to take advantage of each minute. Tonight, right now, I was doing me. Forget about Grant, I told myself. I wasn’t thinking about the girls. I declared this Honey time.

My pussy was so starved that it felt like she’d eaten my labia minora, sucking it inside my vagina, and like my labia majora had closed, the way a Mimosa pudica flower closed when touched, when cold, or when put in the dark. My pussy trapped and stored the chi energy inside the walls of my uterus. The combustion was going to erupt into an orgasm so explosive, all of Atlanta might get swept underground by my fluids.

I had to stop suppressing and ignoring my sexual feelings. I could go out, find a charity dick attached to a man, fuck him, then forget about him, or I could please myself. Opening my mint green pleasure chest, which I kept at the foot of my bed, I pushed aside my vibrating rabbit. “Nah, fuck that. You’d better come with me,” I said, putting the rabbit on the bed.

I moved my ruby glass slipper aside. Not the kind of slipper Cinderella had, my glass dick was twelve inches long and heated up nicely in the microwave, or I could chill it in a bucket of ice. The extreme sensations inside my pussy felt fantastic. I didn’t want to go into the kitchen. Any room other than the kitchen would’ve been okay.

I buried the slipper at the bottom of the chest, then scanned the edible panties, pleasure pearls, my remote-control egg, and a whole lotta other stuff. I came up holding a silver bullet, dangling from my cyber-skin vibrating tongue, in one hand, and in the other hand was my pink pocket rocket. The toys that solely focused on clit stimulation made me cum in less than two minutes, so I tossed the pocket rocket back into the chest and kept the tongue.

Sitting on the black mink throw, I squeezed a few drops of lube onto my tongue, attached the silver bullet, then put a few drops of lube on the bullet. Lying back, I bent me knees upward, spread my thighs, slipped the bullet in my ass, then turned the vibration on high. The tongue fluttered against my clit, almost feeling like the real thing. At the same time the bullet shot vibrations inside my ass.

Sometimes I’d put the bullet in my pussy or in my ass while fucking Grant. He enjoyed the feel of the vibration. “Ooh-wee! Damn, this shit feels good.” But not good enough. Leaving the bullet in my ass, I placed a condom over my vibrator, lubed the shaft and the rabbit ears, then powered on my fucking rabbit.

Inserting the rotating dick into my pussy, I let the pearls vibrate along my G-spot. The rabbit ears teased my clit. My ass felt wonderful. Gazing up at the moon, I moaned, “That’s it. That’s the spots.”

Thirty minutes later I’d given myself explosive pleasure that made my pussy wet inside and out.

I tossed the toys aside, stared up at the stars, and relaxed for a moment. Fucking myself felt good. Fucking Grant felt great.

Exhaling, I thought, Maybe I’m not good enough for Grant. If he wouldn’t give me the decency or respect I deserved and allow me to explain my side of the story, perhaps Grant was the one who wasn’t good enough for me. The time had come for me to let go.