Slipped Finger


The power of imagination makes us infinite.
~ John Muir

On the bed, posing in for photos in front of my own camera, trying to remember all the ideas I had…

I slipped my hand between my legs and covered my sex with it, wanting to leave everything to the imagination. Then I wondered… am I wet? I slipped a finger inside and found my answer. I was wet. Slippery. Horny. I forgot all about the camera and rolled over on my back, my hand between my legs again. I wet my finger with my own fluids and touched my clitoris. It was erect. Ready. Begging for attention. Ever so slowly I circled my clitoris, wanting to let this feeling linger. Wanting to feel the tingling down in my belly, the longing of my loins for some kind of release. The tension built. The want intensified. The touch firmer. The release… a fact.

A finger slipped into the wetness if my want…

© Rebel’s Notes

February Photofest 2018