Impulse (Published)

Three

Masturbation was a contradiction. The build up of your orgasm only relyed on how fast your fingers could go. The speed either being too much or too little to my wet centre.

However, I enjoyed the wavers of my body, I learned more. It helped with my literature and yet after every self induced climax, I have yet to be pleased in the way I have read in novels or I had even written about.

The toe curling sensation, the way my body should come to life in an out of body experience and all I can do is scream. Beg for more. Beg for mercy.

My body on fire as it I almost struggle to breathe.

I wanted an orgasm- not just to cùm. I wanted my slutty beasts inside me to be utterly satisfied to the point of exhaustion and unfortunately; my fingers have yet to bring me to one.

Mr. Valente was actually a good teacher, he spoke in riddles half of the time and only people who thought creatively would understand his motives. I struggle not to dabble in my journal as I bounced my right leg up and down.

Writers intuition and I needed my fix of my daily journal entries.

I wanted to write out the art in pleasure.

A female castes away from her daily life and thrown into a cornered world of inexplicable pleasure.

Hot, thick lust would fill the room, masking it with her greatest desires. From her fetishes, secretly loving to be tied up and told how much of a naughty little slut she really was.

Ah the scenario would be perfect!

That's right Marley- you're an erotic queen. I beemed in my head. My alterego inside me snickered and I forced her back down in her cage. She had yet to be tamed.

All in good timing. I cooed. All in good timing.

Detention had returned and Mr. Valence punished me with isolation- which was more of a reward for me.

I was allowed to dabble in my notebook in which I wrote my masterpiece.

Blinded eyes with blindfolds placed along her treasure.

The smell of musky sex exfoliated around the room, absorbing in her pores.

Perhaps she was a sex addict, she was addicted to the pleasure on high in which it seemed like it never ended.

Who did she owe the pleasure to? A man of many mysteries. His hard díck fitting into the tightest of her holes, pùssy and mouth.

She needed this pleasure to fill her immensely at once. "What exactly do you plan to do with that?" She asks and almost chuckles out loud at her question. The answer was endless to nothing and yet she wanted only what he did. "Put it in its rightful place." Her forbidden lover replies in a sarcastic tone.

His hands run across her thick thighs engulfing in her tight wet-

"Ms. Winter," Mr. Valence calls me, breaking me out of my trance. "Yes?" I ask in a sing song voice. Perhaps if I'd acted like a complete suck up, this would be the last detention with him. "I knew you were going to be writing so now I want you to read what you have written."

Sweet Moses third nipple on a cracker.

I flush instantly, slamming my book shut and rubbing behind my neck nervously. "I'd rather get a month full of detention." I mutter and he looks up from his desk.

I adjust my glasses and look away. No he was not asking me this. Sweet Heaven above- no! I wasn't ready. I would never be ready.

Finally an adult wanted to read my works and it happened to be my English teacher who acted like someone pissed in his oatmeal every morning.

"If its a passion, share it with me." He says and I clear my throat nervously, even though its as dry as a nuns pussy right about now.

"I plead the 5th." I groan and he slams his book he was writing in to the desk, causing me to jump.

"I cannot force you to read. It was simply a request." He says calmly and I scrunch my face up.

Pulling my oversized sweater down from around my neck, it felt like a turtle neck which I hated. It made my neck sweat and I felt like I was suffocating.

This man was hot and cold.

"I'm sorry, I just don't like sharing." Which was partially the truth, the only person to read my works were my friends.

That's it. Hell, I haven't even used my new Wattpad application yet.

"It's alright. Your detention is over. I'm sure you have learned your lesson." He says and I nod. "Yes Sir I have, I'm glad I have pleased you." I didn't realize how sexual that sentence actually was until it came from my lips.

My erotic literature was affecting my fault life and I cursed myself in my head multiple times.

He frowns for a moment, turning his back to me and walking towards the window.

I'm glad he didn't notice, that would have been embarrassing.

Then again, what English teacher would recognize a BDSM term being used in daily conversations- not that I was submissive or anything. Just erotic.

My mother and father were surprisingly home from work early today. I rarely saw them which didn't bother me but it was still good seeing him.

"Marley, what do you want for dinner?" My mother asks me. "It doesn't matter." I reply, wrapping my arms around my mother. I love her to death and just being around her made me happy.

"Your favorite?" She asks and I nod, referring to spaghetti with cheese overtop.

My father walks in and I actually take the time to notice my father was really aging. His hair was growing grey and his once long beard was shaven.

My mother looked the same as she did when I was young, brown hair and brown eyes, no wrinkles or grey hairs.

"Any homework today?" My dad asks and I shake my head. "We have a new English teacher." I inform and my mom raises her eyebrow. "Again?" She sighs and I nod.

"He's a bit of a prick though." I complain and scrunch up my face.

"Perhaps you can show him some of your writing and he'll think differently." He offers and I shake my head again. "Trust me, he doesn't want to read my works."

Which was a complete lie.

I didn't want anybody to read my books, but that didn't stop me from creating an account on Wattpad.

~*~*~*~*

I cut this chapter short, I'm waiting until...well I don't know haha.

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