I am face down on my bed. My hands are by my sides, palm upwards, my cheek and my bare breasts supporting my weight.
The king size duvet is rolled onto the other side of my bed save for a small amount bunched under my crotch. My legs are parted, one poised and bent at right angles at the knee. I am panting and moaning as I grind myself against the bundle of bedding.
"Aaah, ah, aah, aa, aaah....."
I am closing my mouth and eyes and starting to breathe rhythmically and forcefully through my nose, in time with the thrust of my hips; shamelessly masterbating.
No, shameless is not the correct word. I know that you are there, watching me, beside me. My embarrassment and my shame is palpable. It is feeding my building ecstasy. I know that you are watching my body, clad only in pale pink satin panties, wantonly writhing and thrusting, searching for intimate and personal pleasure. It humiliates me and yet somehow fuels the drive which is gradually overcoming all other thoughts.
I feel you place your hand on the back of my neck, pressing me into the bed. Your other on my thigh, running up the back of my leg, my inner thigh, grasping forcefully and quite roughly into my sex. Your fingers curling into my pussy, your thumb - is it your thumb? - pressing onto and into my bottom.
"Aaaah, aaaiiiye, no, no please..ooooooo please please plleeeeassse....."
Gasping.
Moaning.
Crying out.
Pleading. I don't know what I am pleading for? For you to stop? Not to stop? To..
"Ooooo.... Oh my God, yes yes yes yes!"
I am grinding myself firmly into your hand, thrusting and writhing faster, panting and crying out.
You withdraw your hand. You gently whisper at my ear.