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It’s in the stillness of the night, when the sky is clear and the moon illuminates the bedroom and the house is empty, that I truly enjoy the indulgences of my flesh. I like to strip myself of clothing, letting each article gather in a puddle at my feet. The sheets are cold and crisp as I slide into the bed. I physically shiver from the sudden coolness.

I trail my fingertips along my sides and my mind flashes to you. Flashes to the many times your hands ran up them. Your strong, masculine hands, causing an involuntary shudder and I keep myself from giggling. I do the same now, smiling as I let my fingertips glide over that spot that makes my tummy tighten.

My hands slide over my tummy, feeling the soft flesh. I can still feel your kisses, soft butterfly kisses that turn into sharp bites. My breathing labors as I think about the lashes my tummy endured from your whip. My mind runs in circles and I can feel the stings of the whips and crops as if it were yesterday.

I let my hands drift higher still and grasp my ample breasts. The very breasts that drove you crazy. I pinch and squeeze my nipples and my clit hardens in response. I think of the time they were clamped, cold metal squeezing my precious flesh. I like the feel of my breasts in my own hands. No wonder men go crazy for them. They are large yet firm. My memory flashes to a time when they were black, blue and welted. Marked by the precision of your blows. I spent days admiring the marks, changing colors as time escapes me.

My right hand slides up my neck. Visions of rope around it, tightening my throat and cutting off the very air I breathe, take over. Farther up my hand slides, until I take two fingers into my mouth and suck on them gently, letting my saliva bathe them. I think of your cock between these very lips. How I loved sucking your cock. Taking in the throbbing head and giving you the ultimate pleasure. I loved just hearing you, moan, gasp and curse. I moan into my fingers and let them drift down my body, my legs spreading wide.

Slowly I circle the hardened bud above my folds. The pleasure is like electricity coursing through my body. I dip my fingers into my aching cunt and I moan as I imagine feeling you between my thighs. I can feel your cock, sliding into my wet folds. Your cock thrusting hard into me, forcing the air out of my lungs. My breathing now becoming rapid as my fingers fuck my insides. Again I circle my clit and the pleasure continues to build. I’m wet for you. I ache for you. Even in my time of indulgence, it’s you I crave.

Harder and faster I rub my clit. My left hand grabs my breast and squeezes it hard. I yelp and bite the flesh of my arm. I want to feel you. I want to taste you. I want to fuck you. My orgasm explodes and my body shudders. I convulse and curse as each wave hits me. I can feel the rapid, powerful contractions of my inner muscles while I orgasm.

Panting, I slowly come back from my euphoric state. I roll over onto my side and gather the sheets around me for warmth and security. You may wonder what it is that I think about in the silence of the night. What is it that makes me need to reach between my thighs and pleasure myself? It’s not the vision of your piercing eyes as you command my attention. It’s not the memory of your cock as it slides in and out of me. It’s not the sound of the whip lashing through the air or the sting of my flesh as it welts seconds after contact. No, it’s your voice that does it. It’s the memory of your voice as it resonates through my body. It’s the words “you are mine”, that echo in my mind. It vibrates through my body and ignites the lust between my thighs. It’s a hunger I can’t deny, as my hand slips once more underneath the covers and into my wetness.

© Secret Desire

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