The first thing I am aware of when I open my eyes, is the craving between my legs.
A deep longing to be touched.
I shake my head. No. I am not a morning sex person.
The craving is intense. My hand wanders lower, and before long I am reaching for a toy. A purple twirly-swirly silicon rabbit vibrator with balls in the shaft for added sensations. Just as I am about to slip it into my wetness, the stairs creak and I hear Master T coming up the stairs. Feeling caught, I quickly switch off the vibration, push it under the pillow and pretend to be still asleep. I hear him move around in the bedroom, and as his footsteps disappear down the steps again…
… I wake up.
It takes a couple of minutes to understand that I have been dreaming. As I always do, I try to understand where my dream comes from, especially the disturbing ones. Mostly I have no idea, but this time I smile as I remember the night before. I have commented on Violet Fawkes’ post The Ritual of Mornings. That clarifies me shaking my head no to morning sex. I also instantly remember the purple dildo in one of the scenes from an American Pie movie that Master T was watching the previous night while I worked on my #SoSS post. So that clarifies that.
I’m still smiling at the stupid purple-dildo-scene when I realized my hand is resting on my cunt.
Morning sex… it’s most definitely not my thing.
That’s what I told Violet.
Masturbation is sex too, right?
By now my finger lazily circles my clit.
Dead. No sparks. See, it’s not my thing.
Move my hand.
Touch again. Circle again. It’s good. It motivates me enough not to stop. Even if this doesn’t lead to an orgasm, it does feel good.
What will it feel like if I use the Womanizer now, just after I have woken up? I wonder.
Of course this thought makes me reach for the toy. The earplugs I sleep with are still in my ears. I can’t hear any sounds coming from outside. If Master T decides to come upstairs, I will only know it when he opens the bedroom door. I can’t even hear the toy when I turn it on.
I turn on my back, spread my legs and cover my clit with the mouth of the toy, before straightening my legs and covering myself with the duvet. My eyes are closed and my entire being is focused on the huffing-and-puffing between my legs.
It feels so damn good.
I turn it up to the second setting, and for several moments I just lie there, enjoying the sensations. I push my hips up, and tighten the muscles in my legs. I know who to get myself off quickly, but I want this to last longer. Now I have come this far, I don’t want to come to fast. I relax my legs again, and just push against the toy, imagining it being a mouth teasing my clit.
My body is awake now. I have a craving. A need. I want to come.
My nipples beg to be freed from the confinement of the top I am still wearing. I push the duvet cover down, push the top down and grab my breasts; knead them, hurt them. I only let go to get the toy to the third setting, which is enough to feel every fiber of my body begging for the orgasm. Muscles tighten again, and no matter how hard I try to relax my legs, I can’t. I buck against the toy, push my breasts together, think filthy things and then grunt and pant as my orgasm explodes from deep inside.
I shiver as I remove the toy from my center. Even the smallest touch to my sensitive clit causes electricity coursing through my body. I cover my pussy with my hand, feeling it twist in the aftermath of my orgasm.
Moments later, the toy safely back where it belongs, I pull the plugs from my ears and let the outside world in.
This is a good start to the day, and my first orgasm of 2020.
© Rebel’s Notes