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Fantasy of the Month 13 (Alone)
She leaned back from the keyboard, rubbed her eyes and exhaled in a long, uneven sigh. She'd just spent two hours in IRC chatting with her cyberlover; these sessions were very arousing, but afterwards she felt drained. Hearing the modem click as it disconnected seemed to bring back, painfully, the immense distance between them. Regretfully, she peeled her behind from the vinyl seat -slick with the evidence of her excitement - tossed a loose black dressing-gown around her body and hit the shower. She tugged her tight black lycra bike-shorts out from where they'd become wedged between her buttocks and tossed them aside. Under the hot, pounding stream of water, the tension began to leave her body. She reached up, adjusted the nozzle; the water began to pulse rhythmically against her neck and shoulders. She leaned forward and let it beat against her back, almost like she imagined her cyberlover's fingers would be like, massaging her body. Her mind drifted back to the scene they'd conjured up between them that evening; even under the hot water, she shivered with delight. The words had seemed so real, the descriptions so vivid she could almost feel her lover's arms around her, fingers teasing and stroking, teeth behind soft lips gently taking slow, sensuous bites, their tongues - Eyes closed, she turned around, tilted her head back and let the hot water drum against her throat; it warmed her already heated blood. She opened her mouth a fraction, allowed some of the stream between her lips and imagined that she was tasting the juices of her cyberlover's cunt. She lifted her small breasts, squeezed the nipples between thumb and forefinger, let the hot water beat against them; pushed them together and imagined her cyberlover's tongue kissing first one nipple, then the other. Her eyes still closed, she groped with one hand until she found the sliver of soap. She squeezed it and then spread the suds over her breasts, hands sliding up, pressing them against her slim body, fingers slipping unevenly over her nipples and rubbing them rigid. This last motion felt so good she repeated it a few dozen times, trying out synchronised left- and right-hand stimulation... It wasn't long before one hand slid down her belly and between her legs, her index and ring fingers pressing her lips apart and the middle finger curving up inside her. Her hand slid up against her pubis and the three fingers rubbed back and forth over her clitoris just as they had over her nipples, the two outer fingers pressing into the flesh on either side and the middle finger teasing up and down over the erect nub. She stood under the shower-stream with the water thudding into her chest just above the spot between her breasts where she imagined her cyberlover's lips kissing her, her left hand working slowly and steadily while her right lathered the soap and slid down between her buttocks, one finger tickling the puckered opening. She imagined that it was her cyberlover doing this, her cyberlover's tongue flicking back and forth over her clitoris, her cyberlover's finger probing her rear, teasing and then forcing the entrance, holding her up onto her toes, finger-fucking her brutally from behind while carefully teasing exquisite sensations from the swollen lips in front. As her climax approached, she slumped up against the heavy glass wall of the shower recess, her breasts splayed apart, nipples squeaking against the water-slick surface. She almost lifted herself off the ground when she came, the middle finger of her left hand thrust deep inside her, almost (she imagined) meeting the middle finger of her right. She pressed herself up against the glass, vaginal muscles contracting around her finger, shuddering back and forth between her hands, her nipples pointing almost ninety degrees apart, clitoris pressing against the palm of her hand. For seventy seconds she was suspended there, arched up on her fingers, with the hot water beating unnoticed between her shoulderblades, in the blinding white almost-painful light of orgasm; then, with a gasp, she slumped to her knees, shaking weakly, her face pressed up against the glass, water running through her hair and down her face. She lay there, her fingers still inserted in her, muscles relaxed in that sleepy, post-climax warmth, feeling thoroughly used; an idle circular motion of the palm of her hand suddenly brought it all back on, lying on her side in the bathtub-shower recess, one hand squeezing a nipple while the other slid up and down between her lips, the heel of her thumb rubbing against her clitoris. This time the climax came on slowly, lifted her higher and held her there even longer, her hips bucking, her heels drumming against the bath-tub walls, the water falling from somewhere above her like a warm summer rain. When the wracking ecstacy had left her, she collapsed like a wet rag and sighed, "Oh... Ace." The gurling sound of the water running down the drain chuckled reassuringly in response. |
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