Autoerotica

Autosexuality – where a person falls in love and enjoys making love to themselves. Autoerotica – erotic stories on the subject of autosexuality.

Hope you enjoy this story. If you liked this one, you might like ‘From a Boeing 747’ as well. Remember to vote and send feedback when you’ve finished. The nicer you are to me, the more I’ll write.

This story is dedicated to Svenskaflicka, who provided the inspiration for part of it and more importantly gave me permission to use the idea. As always great thanks go to Wild Sweet One (God bless her little cotton socks) for wonderful editorial work on this and others.

I am lying in bed, eyes closed, but far from sleep. The cold cotton of the fresh sheets caresses my body and I feel my nipples harden against the harsh texture. I wriggle further under the duvet, trying to warm up. The room is cold and I can feel a draft coming in from the half-closed window. I briefly debate whether to get up and shut it, but decide I can’t be arsed.

The house seems so lonely when everyone else is asleep – so calm and so quiet, like the entire world has shut down. I am left all alone, the only evidence of a lost world gone to dust. I turn over, wrapping myself further in the duvet. I have to be up early tomorrow morning, yet my body refuses to co-operate and go to sleep.

I’m thirsty. And I’m hungry. And that draft is starting to bug me now. I turn over and watch the curtains billowing out, stretching over the cushion of air and try to ignore all the reasons why I need to get up.

To top it all, I’m really horny. My husband has been away on business in France for a fortnight and was supposed to be coming home today. I’d planned a big reunion: candlelit dinner, sexy lingerie, all the whipped cream we could need, but he’s been delayed by French traffic control. Probably trying to find a motel somewhere in Paris. Poor hubby.

It’s left me all prepared for a long night of loving, but with no-one to share it with. God, bloody French. I amuse myself briefly with the question of whether me murdering the traffic controller who’s sentenced me to yet another night without hubby would be considered a crime de passion, but decide that at best I’d still get manslaughter. Killing while in a state of constant arousal Anadolu Yakası Escort – no court could resist that plea.

I roll over to lie on my back, still trying to get comfortable and start to think of Michael. I imagine him walking in through the front door, throwing his coat to the ground and joining me in the bed, both of us tearing at each other’s clothes as his strong hands wind round my body, caressing and squeezing me…

Oh nice going Loren. Now I’m even more horny and I don’t fancy the chances of Michael coming home tonight. I suddenly realise that with all these ruminations, I’ve been absent-mindedly playing with myself. One hand is at my breasts and the other is stroking my inner thigh. I shiver as my fingers move slightly further up my leg, just brushing against my pussy, before sliding up my body to move over my stomach. I bite my lip, enjoying the feeling of fingertips sliding over the flat of my stomach, dragging slowly round in little circles. My eyes are closed and I’m imagining that Michael’s doing this to me.

My other hand cups my breast and teases the nipple, my thumb running around the crinkled skin of my aureola. I love it when someone takes the time to play with my breasts; they’re so sensitive. I move my other hand up and run my fingernails down the upper hemisphere, enjoying the contrast of touch between that and my palm on the underside.

My breathing’s getting deeper now. I open my eyes and watch my breasts move as I breathe. My nipples bob in the air and the cold draft of air is now exciting as it plays across them. I reluctantly leave them alone, both hands sliding down my body, gliding across my stomach towards my pussy. Playing with my tits is great, don’t get me wrong, but I’m not going to cum that way.

One hand stops just before my crotch and begins rubbing on the area just below my navel. The other has continued down and is now playing on the inside of my thighs, taunting, teasing and tantalising, but never quite touching. I love it when Michael does this to me. He can sometimes spend hours just on my inner thigh, driving me to distraction.

I never have the self discipline to do it to myself for long enough though and I can already feel my fingertips Anadolu Yakası Escort Bayan edge closer towards my pussy. I run one finger up my slit, dallying on my clit for just a second. The sensations are enough to have my hips bucking, trying to push my quim into my hand. I whimper involuntarily and then start circling round my clit. It’s too sensitive to touch directly just yet, but my fingers play all around it, brushing over the hood, each touch a lightening bolt through my nerves.

My other hand is now reaching out to the side, scrabbling through the underwear in my bedside drawer. Where is it, where is it? I really don’t want to have to sit up to look in the drawer, cause then I’d have to stop touching myself and it’s feeling so good. My fingers scour the drawer and close round a smooth cylindrical object – my vibrator.

I say ‘my vibrator’ like it’s the only one, but I have several. My little one that looks like a lipstick that I keep in my handbag, my fingertip one, the bullet one that Michael sometimes puts in his mouth when he licks me and which makes his entire jaw vibrate. This is my favourite though. I wrap my hand around it and hold it to my chest, the cold of the plastic a shock against my skin. I roll it over my tits, ostensibly to warm it up, but really just to feel the rush that I get from touching it against my nipples.

My pussy is really wet now and I allow my finger to just slide inside. It feels so good and I twist my wrist around so I can press on my G-spot. My arousal jumps much higher and I gasp, my entire body stiffening with the touch. I do it again, the gasp transmuting into a long drawn out moan this time as I run my finger over my clit.

I move the silvery vibrator down my body, dragging the tip across my skin from just under my jaw, over my breasts, down my stomach and onto my mound. One of the reasons I like this vibrator so much is because it reminds me of that scene from Blade where the villain draws the tip of a silver stake across the heroine’s body. My mind drifts onto Wesley Snipes topless, strong muscled arms lifting me up, tearing away my clothes. I close my eyes, imagining it being his fingers that are playing with me, his hand holding the vibrator.

I Escort Anadolu Yakası switch on my vibrator when the tip is just above my pussy, on the slight mound where my pubic hair starts. The low throbbing travels all through my body from here and the dim vibration comes very close to tipping me over the edge even from this distance. I turn it down, not wanting to cum quickly and spoil the moment.

The tip of the vibrator touches my pussy lips and I just hold it there for a second. I can feel my clit throbbing, fully out of its hood now and the breeze playing across my erect nipples makes me shudder. The low vibrations ripple through my pussy and I can hear my gasping breathing, loud in the silent room. It feels like I’m outside of my body, watching this as an observer as I slide the vibrator slowly into me, thrilling with the feeling of being slightly stretched and stimulated. My fingertips run over my clit, and I start drawing little circles. The feeling is so intense that it’s almost painful, but I can handle it now; anything less would be a disappointment.

I start to whimper; I can feel my orgasm building up inside me now. I know that I’ve gone past the point of no return. I’m not coming yet, but I will any second. I squeeze my eyes shut until bright lights flash behind my eyelids. My finger is moving faster on my clit. I couldn’t stop moving it even if I wanted to; I need this. My whimper gets louder and louder, turning into a wordless moan as I feel myself tip over the edge and into the delicious release of orgasm. My pussy is contracting around the vibrator and my entire body seems to be throbbing with it. Waves of pleasure rush over me, sweeping me away from consciousness as all my senses white out in a tsunami of ecstasy.

I lay, now quiet, in sweat drenched sheets, my entire body too exhausted to even move. The draft whispers across my body again and I turn my head, watching the billowing curtains straining with the pressure of the air. I really should shut that window, but I can’t be bothered now. I feel as though I’m sinking into the bed, the effort of my pleasures making me just too heavy to be supported by such a shallow thing. It takes a great effort to reach down and retrieve the vibrator, turn it off and toss it into my underwear drawer. I’ll clean it in the morning.

I lie there and think of what I’ll do to hubby when he comes home. Mmmm. A slow smile spreads across my face and I drift off to sleep, my mind filled with happy thoughts.

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