The air is still, hanging with expectation. It is a hot, humid night – the kind where it is hard to settle, relax, sleep.
I lie on my bed, just out of the shower, but already feeling beads of sweat starting to form down my back and under my breasts. I run my hands over them, stroking my fingers over my nipples round and round until they start to tingle and send waves of excitement down to my groin.
As these waves run down my body, I slowly echo the direction with my hands, gliding them down from my breasts, slowly towards my stomach, hips, thighs so gently and lightly that the back of my neck also tingles. My fingers take a right angle turn from my thighs to my groin and I feel my mound and pubic hair through thin cotton knickers. I like to seduce myself slowly, as the anticipation makes the finale all the more delicious.
I stroke this mound through the layer of cotton, going nowhere near the pink dragon in his damp cave, who is now starting to wake from his deep slumber. My fingers move in tiny circles, alternating between the pads of my fingers and the edges of my nails. I close my eyes and focus on the sensation. Then the cheeky middle finger of my right hand tentatively dips under the side of the gusset and carefully slides across the outer labia to the area around the clitoris.
I give out an involuntary gasp at the sudden surge of arousal and gear change this brings about. No longer idle caresses – now the rocket is fuelling for take-off! And so the cheeky finger grows bolder and begins to pulsate faster and faster, sending waves of electricity through my body. My lower body begins to tilt upwards and wriggle and jerk up and down. The finger has a mind of its own and seems to move independently while I am no longer in control of my body, panting and groaning. I keep my eyes shut so nothing distracts me from the waves of ecstasy shooting through me from head to toe.
Then it happens. I always have a warning it’s on its way as I get a high pitched muffled sound in my ears – like ducking under water. My entire body shakes in one giant spasm and a powerful, joyous tidal wave overcomes me. My mind is completely empty for a few seconds. I gasp and moan and want to shout ‘yes’ but hold back so I wake no one. I then feel the urge to bury my face in the pillow next to me and hug it.
Nice post DSM.
A sort of literary exhibitionism.
Good or better than physical exhibitionism?
Do you have a fascination for exhibitionism, Lou? This isn’t the first time you have mentioned it. In answer to your question, at least with literary exhibtionism one can imagine the people involved to be whatever their hearts desire, rather than the reality.
Quick answer is yes 🙂
I should probably expand on that – my fascination is from the voyeurs perspective. (I’m not a flasher 🙂 ) I suspect that its because my logic is that any woman who is an exhibitionist is also an enthusiast and I love women who are enthusiastic about sex.
I’m sure you’ll agree that actually blogging about it is also a sign of enthusiasm that few attain. So good for you. I dare say sooner or later you will tire of writing it just as I will tire of reading it – we all go through phases probably based on how busy we are. I just hope the enthusiasm for sex remains for both of us.
Meanwhile you keep writing and I’ll keep enjoying it.
I still enjoy it, Lou, so can keep going for a while longer.
I hope enthusiasm for sex is a long-lasting thing, too, if it’s available!
DSM