"That's it, baby," he continues, his tone almost soothing, despite the filth spilling from his lips. "Take my cock. Take all of it."
Baby.
My belly flutters, my heart soaring like a fool even though I know it's a runaway utterance. A thoughtless spi...
I haven't seen in him in almost a month, and somehow, somehow he consumes me. Each and every single day, he finds a way to take over my thoughts, occupying all the space in my head without my permission. Even now, I still can't seem to be able to get away from him, my mind unable to break free from the relentless hold he has on it, not even for a few moments.
...will have full and unrestricted liberties to exercise the use of various bodily devices and gadgets...
...make use of both conventional and unconventional binding and restraining equipment...
...a wide range of assorted and multifarious sexual toys, all of which will be made of one or a combination of the following: silicon, soft and/or hard plastic, glass, metal, wood, leather, silk, marble, yarn, rubber, wax...
I tremble violently as I remember more of the words from that preposterous contract; words he so clearly and definitively wrote.
Every single night since the day of his proposal, I've been extremely tempted to touch myself to the thought of him; to the unforgettable memory of his intoxicating eyes and masculine body. And every single time, I've adamantly denied myself any pleasure, despite my body's ever-increasing desire for him. I'm afraid that doing so now, knowing what he wants from me and knowing it could happen if I just say the words, will mean so much more than the simplistic act of masturbating to the memory of a hot guy. That screwing him won't just be a fantasy in my head any longer. That, on some level, it will be me agreeing to something that I know is very, very possible.
Still, it's been nothing short of torture trying to convince myself that I feel nothing toward the man in spite of the morally deviant conditions of his "proposition". But, regardless of his stance on the matter, I know it's also wrong to want him.
He's not mine to have, and he never will be. I know it, but my body doesn't seem to. Heck, it clearly doesn't give a fuck, either. And now it's begging me once again, my pussy pleading to get some release from the endless rollercoaster of desire and frustration it's been through all month long.
I exhale deep and long as my eyes flutter closed behind my glasses once more, bracing myself against the shower wall with one trembling hand while the other moves down my body, lightly caressing my breasts and nipples for the shortest of moments before moving further down.
As the water continues to beat against my skin, an idea quickly crosses my mind. I try to push it away several times, but my efforts prove to be in vain as the stubborn thought keeps coming back and pestering me, beckoning me to act it out.
Eventually, I relent with a sigh, knowing that it was only a matter of time before I gave in.
I reach for the shower head and detach it with an unsure, slightly hesitant hand, slowly lowering it over me and aiming the jet of water directly onto my nipple where my hands have just been. The momentum of the spray hits my sensitive bud a lot harder than I anticipated, making me shriek as all the nerves in it go on overdrive. My first impulse is to move the shower head away from my chest, but something in me only makes me grip the head harder, forcing myself to bear the almost painful pleasure. I do the same to my other nipple, allowing myself to feel all the intense prickles and sharp tingles from the water in their entirety.
But soon and sure enough, my nipples become too sore to continue to take the incessant beating of the shower head, so I lower it down my body once again, finally placing it between my thighs.
The powerful stream hits my pussy with an unexpected blast, and the concentrated water pressure is almost too much to handle, sending an immediate, heady rush of tingles and shivers all over my body despite all the heat surrounding me. My knees buckle like flimsy straws and my entire body tenses from the contact. The showerhead almost slips and falls from my grasp, but I brace myself against the shower bar just in time, managing to hold onto the head's handle despite my momentary disorientation.
After a few deep breaths, I tentatively move the head slightly, concentrating it on my clit, and the delicious, almost painful pressure hits right against the concentrated bundle of nerves, bombarding it incessantly with wet heat and eliciting all sorts of ticklish and tingly sensations from within it. They quickly become more and more overwhelming, forcing pleasured moans and whimpers from deep within my throat.
Out of the blue, I picture Frost's hands; his long, strong, and sure hands brushing against my skin, remembering the way his masculine fingers felt when he touched me, and immediately, my memory transcends the present and I imagine that it's him touching me down there instead of the sturdy stream of water, rubbing and circling against my pussy and clit incessantly.
I feel myself climbing, higher and higher with each passing second, the pressure building too fast, the need for release becoming too strong and overbearing.
My entire upper body arches into itself in anticipation for what I know is coming. My abs tense to the point of pain as my body hunches over, preparing itself for its impending explosion. I can just tell its going to be an earth-shattering release, and I can practically taste it on my tongue.
My eyes are shut tight and yet I can see stars from behind them, a blurry mesh of twinkles mingled with darkness. My lungs start to work overtime as I inhale and exhale humid air on shallow, quick breaths, and soon even that's not enough, as my mouth tries to assist on impulse, making me pant something furious.
Everything comes to a halt as the generic sound of my alarm clock breaks through the night, the unforeseen distraction quickly bringing me out of my fantasy and back to reality, my orgasm retreating even faster than it came.
The alarm continues to beep for a whole minute, and with a grimace and immense disappointment, I stare at it in the distance, barely able to see the 12:00 AM digits blinking on its display behind my foggy glasses.
And just like that...Doomsday is here.
***
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