I love when my parents are out of the house. And who wouldn't? The peace and quiet without my father obsessively trying to convince me to follow his path in life is more of a relief than I can describe. It's also rather nice not to have my amazingly nurturing mother fretting about me; she needs a night to relax.
My parents received a call on Wednesday from their friends in New Hampshire, requesting their company for dinner. The speaker phone made my 'uncle' sound hollow as he rattled off the details of the impending overnight visit. The plan was that my parents would leave after work on Friday, and stay until Saturday evening. My mother immediately asked me if I'd be alright by myself overnight.
I tried to contain my enthusiasm while I answered, "Yes, Mom. You both deserve to relax. You should go." Inside I was screaming "please say that you'll go!"
My mother's unblinking gaze scrutinized my face, trying to search for some indication that I was lying and secretly begging for them to stay.
She found no such indication, and the plans were made.
Tonight is Friday, and they just left! I have the house to myself! Unable to contain my glee, I let myself do a dorky little jig in the middle of my living room before grabbing my phone to send a mass text of: "Friday night! Who's coming over???"
A couple hours pass by painfully slow, as the texts roll in with excuses of not being able to get off work, or already having made plans. I call my best friend, who would come down to see me if the trains ran at this point at night.
"Hi, Lydia."
"Tiff," I whine, "I'm so bored; I don't know what to do!" My restlessness makes me pace the length of the short hallway between the living room and my own room many times as we talk.
"So why don't you do what you always do when you're bored," Tiff suggests with a chuckle.
For some reason, my mind isn't allowing me to come to the same conclusion as she obviously has, so my incredibly intelligent and witty response becomes: "Hurgh?"
I know, I'm a genius...
"Attack yourself between the legs with a dildo," she clarifies, clearly amused by my clueless behavior. "Isn't that what you usually do when you're bored?"
I play with the strap on my bra with a thumb, tugging slightly so the cup hugs my breast a little tighter, thinking about it for a moment before saying, "You're right. I should. I think I need it."
"Have fun," she sings through the phone before I end the call.
I stride down the hallway once more into my room, shutting the door behind me out of habit. I want to make this a night of pleasure for myself. Sort of a night of being sexually pampered. I strip my bed of everything but one sheet, making sure to check my closet for a replacement bedspread for when it will be needed.
Now, what do I need for tonight? I ask myself.
I pull open the drawer on my nightstand to find my answer: massage oil, a purple vibrating dildo, a blue vibrator, about ten clothes pins, a red taper candle, and a lighter. I arrange these items on my nightstand. In my desk drawer I find a couple votive candles that I plan to light later on for mood; the harsh desk lamp is not conducive to any of the activities I've planned for the night...
I decide that taking a shower is a good idea, taking care to shave off every trace of pubic hair. My shower is quick and hot; by the time I step out, I can feel my face and chest are flushed with excitement, and glancing in the mirror confirms these suspicions. My dark eyes gaze back into mine before moving onto my blushing cheeks, my aroused half-smile, and the flush that is slowly spreading across my chest. I notice my hair is hanging into my eyes so I grab my hairbrush. Brushing out my hair takes a couple minutes, and I pull it back, securing it in a half up style that would keep it out of my face, but not get in the way if I decide to lie down. I don’t bother with a towel; I sort of imagine that my body temperature is so high, the water that clings to my body will evaporate and turn to steam while I make my way, naked, to my room.
My bed has always been comfortable, and I melt right into it, enjoying the feel of the soft sheets against my porcelain-white skin. During the summer, I tan rather deeply, making many assume my nationality and ethnicity is Native American. But, during the fall and winter months, my skin loses the majority of its color, and I become fairer skinned.
I run my hands down the length of my body, over my shoulders and soft skin of my tits, avoiding my nipples. Down my stomach and thighs and back up; I avoid my mound and nipples again. I look down to see my little nipples are erect and begging for touch. I reach for a clothespin, and pin a small area of skin above my nipple, one on each side.