Warning this story is explicit and NSFW rated R 18+ only.
See other short stories here: Quick and Dirty Short Stories
Me, Myself And Isla
It’s been over a year since my husband left me for another woman. Since then I’ve discovered the joy of real deep down sexual pleasure. The kind that I discovered on my own. I had no idea it was missing from our marriage bed.
There is something swirling in my mind that’s stirring up my insides. An image of a hand tending to its own body as it works to bring forth the pleasure and release. An image imprinted from a sexy tasteful black and white video I watched yesterday.
The hand moves slowly at first before it finds the eliciting pattern needed. I blink the image away and look around my kitchen. I stared at the faucet dripping steady, turn it off and indirectly marvel at the rise and fall of my breasts, how sexy they look in my new push-up bra. The image of the agile fingers playing gently across tight silky skin reappeared as I carried the two cups of tea to the table.
My heated blood flushed my cheeks as I sat and listened to my friend Isla talk with her singsong voice. Despite the conversation, my mind played the mini movie on repeat. Stroke, rub, moan, squeeze, grab, grunt and come. Like a prisoner, I was trapped in my vision as much as I was trapped in the conversation keeping me from re-enacting the video.
Disrespecting my boundaries, my mind took off on its own adding a sweet soundtrack to the flashes of imagery. Heavy breathing, soft moans, and the sexy sound legs make when shifting abruptly over bed sheets from throws of self-induced passion.
The tightening inside the core of my sex became luxurious and called for me to take action. I should not be feeling this way or think these things so openly in my kitchen with company over.
Over my hot tea, I watched my friend Isla’s lips form the words of her story. I held my breath as the glistening tip of her tongue poked out to moisten the soft flesh. I’ve never even kissed a woman before so I had no idea why I was so aroused by the sight. Isla and I fingered ourselves in the same room one drunken night, but nothing happened or came of it.
My nipples tightened upon seeing hers pucker beneath her blouse, sending a tingle that bounced between my breasts and my clit. Up and down and back again repeatedly. The thick thud of my pulse between my legs became too much to ignore.
I should excuse myself and seek out privacy, but I couldn’t move.
I leaned forward, rested my left elbow on the small kitchen table. I set my chin on my hand curling my fingers in so the knuckles pressed against my mouth. My right hand inched between my already parted legs as the images of the black and white hand in my head worked faster.
Isla kept telling her animated story of her trip to the Bahama’s for her brothers wedding.
I could feel the wet already dampening through my underwear to my thin leggings. With a stealthy move, I wiggled my finger, forcing the fabric between my hot southern lips until I found my clit. I began a gentle circular rub with only my index finger, sliding the wet fabrics creating a tantalizing friction.
I was so worked up and this was so ultra naughty that I brought myself fast. Clenching hard on nothing, my body climaxed from my own gentle solitary digit.
“Dammit Teri,” my friend Isla said sounding breathy. “I don’t know what it is about you today, but I’ve become super horny since I got here. Wanna go upstairs and watch each other finger ourselves again?”
“Or perhaps I could finger you?” I asked holding my breath.
The sultry smile that stretched her lips and the lusty glint in her dark brown eyes got my heart pumping a steady beat between my legs again.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
A Hansel and Gretel trail of discarded clothing followed us to my bedroom.
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