Britta tosses and turns, eyes move rapidly in deep sleep and the sheets are wet at her warm spot. Her eyes open wide into the darkness, hair plastered to her forehead and soft nightgown sticking to her wet pussy. Britta feels the burning inside and outside as well as her thighs are hotter than her sweaty forehead. Britta knows where that fantasy came from, that dream, that man, that website. Britta scoots embarrassingly away from the wet spot on the sheets. And once more wipes at her forehead and moves her hair to the side.
Was I touching myself while sleeping? Her other fingers are wet and glitter back the little light entering the room.
Oh my goodness, what are you doing, naughty-naughty? She doesn't want to linger in the heat of the comfortable sheets but she doesn't want to ruin her drowsy sleep either. But she knows if she lies down again, the dream will be the same and again she'll wake up. Minus well find a distraction.
She gets up briskly. Now that she's awake, there is nothing stopping her from doing laundry. The soaked sheets are first and then the pillow cases. While walking to the wash room, she dumps the agglomerated bundle into the bin and drags it from the bathroom over to the washer. She presses the button and the water starts to waterfall, filling the washer. She can't help but to stare at the water falling over her clothes-the warm water.
Is touching myself considered kinky? What does kinky even mean, I know Sabina uses it all the time to describe her sex life, but is fingering kinky? I'm not stupid, am I? I can touch myself if I want to, right? Everyone does it? Do they though... No, I can't-I can't and I won't.
As a teen growing up, Britta had never had the opportunities that other girls had with the opposite sex. She had a case of the pimples, and the ungroomed hair, unwashed clothes, and bad breath. All due to a careless mother. For two years, she went to school smelling of a pungent odor that she could not locate to save her life. It wasn't until her teacher approached her after studies and furtively supplied Britta with a stick of deodorant that she finally realized what the problem was, or at least a problem of the many. Another problem was that her mother was not fit for caring to the complicated needs of a teenage girl. Not once had Britta's mother shown support, no "I Love You's" were handed out, and no lessons of life were taught. Britta, fortunately, has always been bright. Now, she has her own spa, her own place, her own car, her own life-her life, and doesn't have to depend on anyone to live her life. Her face has no pimples and all that remains is a soft face of beauty that not even she can believe after all those years of red and black spots.
But one thing she doesn't have is a sex life. She has never purchased a dildo, and every time Sabina mentions vibrators or any type of sex toy, she becomes awkwardly reserved and painfully shy. The sex world is foreign. Foreign to her like a parent telling their child "I love you."
So... was that kinky or what? I'll call it kinky for now. Yeah, I'm kinky, girl. Saby would be a proud mama.
Britta glances at the clock over the washer. "Three o'clock!" Although it's early in the morning, she doesn't feel sleepy. She lets go of the tumbling washer and walks downstairs for some investigative work.
Britta takes a seat and agitates the mouse side to side, causing the Mac to awaken. If she has to suffer without sleep than everything in the house will be awakened as well, including Siri.
Britta's fingers type speedily, searching for the culprit website that caused her to touch herself while half-asleep. Her index finger quickly tickles the scroll wheel. The Gallery webpage moves downward displaying a passel of XLand photographs. The pictures consist of exquisitely crafted men who shouldn't exist-but they do, they are referred to as "Rides," and each "Ride" displays its bod-no clothes, some with languid schlongs, and others with stiff cocks.
Look at that dick, it's so pretty. OMG, I'm so kinky, now.
She closes her eyes, finger rubbing the scroll wheel.
I shouldn't be watching this, this is nasty and dirty. I... I shouldn't be watching this. I always chide Sabina for sharing her sexual stories with me, and I would be a hypocrite for seeing these men, so vulnerable. For Christ's sake, some of these men look like they came from a high-school football team. This is a sin. A damn kinky sin!
Britta opens one an eye and then the other. Britta stares at the pictures in rapt attention. The dark background of her surroundings and the bright desktop screen causes the pictures to appear much more vivid than should ever be allowed. This is what advertisement is. This is how they get you! Turn it off.
Britta can't.
She looks around the gloomy room and back at the screen. The washer roils and repeatedly bangs against the wall, a noise like a couple having sex in a hotel.
I really want to touch myself. Look at that one. I want that inside me. I... need that inside me. That length, I need it inside of me. Not just that one but all of them. Look that that long, black cock!
She covers her mouth, unbelieving her thoughts. No-no, this is not right. Sabina may have finally gotten to my head. Control yourself.
Her lips glisten of a watery mouth. The tufted leather that supports her wets over as she drains from her internal spigot that she herself cannot control this time. Although she has not touched herself, just the thought of those "Rides" on her body causes her to moan silently.
The pictures themselves must have grown fingers and entered her cunt; otherwise, she wouldn't be so wet. Those pictures are inside her, insider her mind, insider her Puss and anal cavity, pounding away.
She cannot repress the thought any longer; Britta decides to locate something she can use to work her soaked hole. Unfortunately, she doesn't own a dildo. Many times, Sabina has offered to buy her a vibrator; that's what friends are for, but Britta is too stubborn and always said that she was okay without one. Now she regrets it. She wants fake flesh pushing inside her right fucking now!
Britta take off from the couch and strides to her room, passing the washer that vibrates violently, grabs a condom and walks back downstairs. The condoms she did not buy; Sabina had left a few one night after emptying her purse, looking for something. She's always losing this or the other.
Britta had found them upon cleaning. What an embarrassment it would be to hand them back, so she kept them.
Britta takes hold of a thick, emergency candle and places the lubricated condom over its length. She's had this idea for some time now it didn't just appear out of nowhere. With the candle finally covered with the slippery rubber, she walks back to the desktop. The screen had fallen asleep so she agitates the mouse again. She takes a seat on the rolling chair and clicks on the Slideshow icon. The pictures resize to full-screen, each one fading out and then preempted by a different "Ride" every passing moment.
The pictures fade-by, cock after cock, Ride after Ride, and Britta watches-unbelieving like a robbery going on inside her body that she is watching from far off. She leans back on the chair; as she spreads her legs, she sets her feet on the desk at either sides of the computer. She inserts the thick candle slowly, and moans while her pussy-lips splay apart. To Britta's amazement, her pussy slowly takes in the thickness of the candle. She's wet.
She slides the rounded end into her hole, deeper and deeper with each picture that displays on screen. The juice flows in a freshet through her canal. The candle is like a wingless airplane trying to fit inside a small, home garage.
No longer does she moan; now she screams exhaustingly as she fits the thickness into her cunt with fast thrusts. Both hands behind the candle. The pictures flow by: abs, cock, women getting hammered, the colorful amusement park itself. All the pictures that show the culture of XLand present themselves to Britta's sight. Some of the photos are shocking apparitions of long veiny cocks that Britta had never thought to be able to grow to such lengths.
Britta withdraws the candle and drops it on the carpet. She massages her clitoris with quick fingers, side to side, furiously. Fingers wet and slimy.
She looks at the ground, and it looks like a better location for her twitching body. She relocates. Britta arches her back and starts applying all of her hand to her wanting part. Her bottom tenses tightly. Her voluptuous rear is smooth and wet as the juice covers her ass cheeks and tiny butthole. Britta feels heady, eyes rolling and fluttering. But she keeps going, until she feels it, and again it came. Her thighs wobble and her stomach tenses. She clutches her pussy shut as she twitches some more.
Britta splays on the floor, spent. Did I just do that? Sabina would be so happy to know that I touched myself. But she will never know. Am I a kinky bitch or what?
So... does this mean I've made up my mind about XLand. Am I really going? No, there's still things to consider. I don't even have someone to watch the Spa, let alone someone who could manage it for a week. It's too risky. Way too risky. No manager equals complete disaster.
Britta exits the webpage and waits quietly for the washing machine to complete its process.
After throwing the damp sheets in the dryer, she proceeds to her room and lays on the bed.
Maybe, I can find someone to watch the spa; Brittany has been wanting to get promoted, and she has proved to be a well-rounded employee. All around good person and great fit to lead. Perhaps, her time has come.
Britta smiles at theceiling, eyes looking past the empty darkness to a world of her ownimagination.