It's just after seven in the morning, and while most people are enjoying their last few moment in comfy beds, or just waking up to start their day, mine is coming to a close. I pull into my driveway after completing a twenty-four hour over night shift, unsure exactly of how I got there. In my sleep deprived delirium I have no distinct recollection of actually driving, but clearly must have done so okay. My eyes close and I lower my head for a fraction of a second before I jerk my neck, recovering from an irresistible micro-nap. The steering wheel looks like a surprisingly comfortable place to just rest my head, but I have a soft, warm, comfy bed that is calling my name.
I open the car door and swing my legs over the side, the incessant chiming thankfully reminding me to fetch my keys from the ignition. After the prolonged drive home my legs struggle, only initially, to hold me up. I stand on my tip toes and raise my arms high above my head; the cool morning air gently wafts across my faintly revealed midriff. I lower my heels back to the ground, and with my hands still above my head, arch my spine backward. I feel several stiff vertebrae pleasurably crack while the air brushes against my now exposed belly button. My lower back feels cold as I bend over and touch my toes.
Feeling marginally, but still noticeably, better, I gather my purse, stethoscope, and the ever vital cup of coffee from the center console. Sadly, the coffee it doing little for me. It was never all that great as a pick-me-up. But I still love the taste and it is a ritualized purchase after full day shifts. I would be a lot less exhausted, somewhat ironically, if I had just stayed up the whole night. But I made the, understandably of course, mistake of trying to sleep during the down time. It felt like whenever I'd lie down, I'd get a page or a phone call about some patient needing my attention. The constant, sudden, and forceful awakenings through out the night leave you more fatigued then if you'd just stayed up the entire time.
I adjust my pants and shuffle through my poorly kept lawn towards my back wooden stairs - shuffling being the only ambulation I can muster with any vigor. The bottom hem of my ill fitting scrub pants - they never have my size - brushes against the uneven ground.. After a quick, wobbly, almost stuporous walk, I reach the stairs leading up to my apartment. A flight of stairs that on any other day would be a molehill looks positively mountainous. I grab the railing hard for support and pull, trying to augment my legs as much as I can. My calf muscles tighten up and ache. Halfway up the stairs they scream in protest and I now, rather than just holding the railing, am hugging it and leaning against it with all my weight. Slowly, one step after the other, I drag myself upward, my arms now burning as well. My body brushing hard against the railing for support, I pull myself up the last stair and suddenly stop short as I feel a sharp tug at my waist band and a stiff breeze across my upper outer thigh. I quickly identify the culprit - a large splinter that snagged my pants - the knot in the drawstring strained taught. I untangle it easily and cover up my pale flesh, marked with only a superficial scratch at worst, and the faintest hint of the waist band of my panties underneath.
Clumsy fine motor skills not withstanding, I open my door and stumble across the threshold and shuffle to my bedroom. There it is. My bed. Calling me. With new found energy at the prospect of being to close to my goal I bound over across the room, kicking off my shoes in the process, and collapsing in a defeated heap on my sheets.
I close my eyes and breath deeply. I lay there, for how long I do not remember, just basking in how happy I am that I'm finally done for the day. My head hurts, that ache you get with sustained sleep deprivation, most acutely by the long night, but compounded by the chronic sleep deprivation before this. My mental faculties are, well, not anywhere near their peak. I feel, weaker, somehow. Physically, of course, yes, but mentally I just feel unable to fight. I am not my usual peppy, energetic self. My stomach aches and growls at me, having not eaten for hours on end. My mouth and tongue are dry and I lick my lips in anticipation of a cold drink. Cruelly, while the fatigue fighting properties of the caffeine don't seem to touch me, it's diuretic effects do, making my thirst worse and giving me the unmistakable feeling that I have to pee. My muscles, my poor muscle. Even lying there, I feel them remain in their tense and cramped state, only slowly relaxing. My skin is hot. Suffocating under my thick scrubs and moist with perspiration. My most pressing need, of course, is sleep. Sweet blissful sleep. My other needs can wait, for now at least, just as long as I get a little shut eye. Just enough so I don't feel so drained.
Still, I should at least do something about the heat, even in my state it's going to be difficult to sleep comfortably like this. My back gives a slight twinge of unrest, as if angry that I would dare move, and roll out of bed. Unfortunately, I don't have central air conditioning, but I do have a large fan and windows along all but one the walls which provide a great cross-breeze. I pull back the blinds and open every window I have as much as I can. The awnings overhanging the windows outside block a good amount of the intense sun light and still allows for a pleasant breeze to drift through my room. Switching on the fan by my bed completes the setup.
Sitting on the edge of my bed, I tug at my scrub top. Thick, practical, cheap, but stifling hot and uncomfortable. My top is too small and my pants too long and too big. The automated machine that "handed" me my scrubs did not seem to like me. Only caring if they matched in their dark blue color, the heartless machine gave no consideration to how they feel. The top, thankfully, is short sleeved, but even on a thin thing like me feels tight and constricting. As much as I try to tuck it into the waist band of my pants, even small movements cause it to ride up, showing my stomach or back. Far more concerning however, is the V-neckline that plunges way too deeply. I see a lot of people wear T-shorts underneath, I think this is kinda how they were designed to be worn, and this does solve the problem of your shirt showing off your stomach or your cleavage. But it was just way too hot for that today and I, and several others I noticed, forwent the undershirt. For better or for worse, my breasts are on the small side. They are only an "A" cup. I feel kinda sorry for the girls with large breasts - their cleavage can be very obvious in these things. I cross my arms and grab the underside of my top and pull upward. Marred with sweat and moisture, the tight top snags every bit of moist skin it is slowly dragged across. I quick tug with a little more force and the thick fabric slides over my bare breasts (y...yes...I wasn't wearing a bra. They're uncomfortable!), pulling them upward till they flop back down gently. Already the breeze and the fan feel so good over my exposed skin. A little jostling later and I manage to pull my top of entirely and throw it unceremoniously on to the floor.
I breathe deeply. My breasts rising and falling with each breath, feeling so much better already.
I bring my knees to my chest and take off my socks. Then, standing up, I pick at the knot in my waist band. These things were always a pain. Because the back side was so loose, and the top didn't quite tuck in, bending over could be an embarrassing disaster waiting to happen. There was definitely a moment earlier where I dropped a chart of papers and could feel my thong being exposed. It was a deserted hallway, thankfully, but I didn't think I ever worked that fast to make sure no one saw me. With ease..well.. maybe a little effort..er..maybe a little more work.. with, uh, concerted effort.. I..um...grrrrrrrrr...why did I tie this damn thing so tight! After much picking at the knot with my nails I manage to undo them, and with their large size they quickly drop to the floor revealing a tight fitting pair of pink thong panties. Unlike the other shed clothing littering the floor at my bare feet, the panties are, um, less than practical. Thin and soft, they feel so good against my skin, especially now with the rest of my clothes gone and the breeze blowing across me. A thin waist band goes around my waist, with a tiny bow in the front. The plain pink fabric gathers between my legs and covers my pussy delicately before narrowing between my legs and becoming an almost embarrassingly thin strip that wedges itself between my butt cheeks and barely manages to cover my ass before joining the waist band again. I hook my fingers around the sides and gently pull down, snagged all the moist skin on the way. The fan breathes cool air all over my nude fragile body and my pussy lips give the faintest of tingles.
I lie back in bed, purring happily. For the longest while I just lay there - my heard still swarming in its delirium and my body still aching all over. All modesty in my room forgotten, I stretch my poor legs. I bring a knee up and reach down to massage my calf, then switch to the other leg. I move my neck around and open and close my legs, showing off my privates. It feels sooooo good. I roll over to my side, the fan giving a gust of wind against my butt. I giggle and twist my back and my hips in opposite directions, cracking several more joints and relieving some tension.
I roll back over to my back, spread eagle, and slowly pass out.
I wake up suddenly. My head pounding. I was...walking through... a forest was it? There was a man. What did he look like? I struggle in vain to remember but the details are quickly lost to me. A dream had woken me up all to soon. I try and think of where I am. Am I at work? No..wait..I'm at home. I roll over and read the alarm clock on my nightstand. Only minutes have passed, leaving me feeling worse than when I started. I toss and I turn, unable to get comfortable, unable to relax. Eventually exhaustion wraps me in her embrace again and I pass out. Once again I suddenly wake up.
Another dream maybe? I can't remember anything. I roll over to my side and draw my knees into my chest, curling up in the fetal position. My thighs rub together. I feel.....I.....Oh God.....I feel moisture rubbing between my inner thighs. I..I wet myself. I hug my knees closer and drape one hand over my hips. I glance my fingers against my skin. I..I...I'm wet...I had a wet dream. Looking down, my bare breasts have painful obvious swollen nipples. Even if my mind can't remember what I was dreaming about, my body sure seems too. I try to fall back asleep, I try to fight it, but I just can't. The fan continues to blow cold air over my body and my nipples become hard and erect. My breasts may be small, but they are perky in their own little way. My nipples are very sensitive. Normally soft and supple, they've swollen so much that I can't deny how much I need to play with them. I know I should try and go back to sleep, and that any extra stimulation will just make things worse. But...but I just can't help it. I can't fight it; I'm just too mentally exhausted. I cup my hands under my dainty breasts, and massage them deeply. I let out a deep breath and I trace my fingernails around my pink quarter sized areola. A gentle squeeze of my fleshy light pink nipples is more then enough to make me moan softly. I love to have my breasts played with. And I absolutely need to fondle them whenever I masturbate or as part of foreplay when I make love. I roll over on to my back, and pull on my nipples, drawing my breasts away my chest and then letting go and having it slap against me. I start to day dream and wonder how great it would feel to have them sucked. Just a little! Gentle. No biting. Well, maybe a little nibble. The mere thought makes my breasts ache.
I sit up at the edge of the bed, my muscles aching in a much different far less pleasurable way. My pussy aches and quivers. It is jealous of my nipples. My pussy can't hide its desire as it continues to moisten itself. I can't see it, but I can feel small amounts of my fluid gently leak from between my pussy lips between my thighs. They tremble in protest. They feel left out. My pussy feels hot. Jostling my hips only makes it worse. I try to just grin and bare it. I try to focus on my breasts. So warm. My mind wanders again. Maybe it would feel nice to just stretch my pussy...a little? No. No no no. I must not think about it. My inner thighs are damp and slide against each other easily as I squirm. My pussy quivers again, trying to draw attention to itself, almost angrily.
I lower my right hand and reach between my legs.
My hand gently brushes against my labia and...oh god....oh no...
I am so wet! How did this happen? My pussy lips shake with approval even with just barely touching them. I gently spread them, and several drops of my fluid drip down my fingers. How can I be so wet like this?!
I get to my feet, accompanied by a brief feeling of light-headedness and a feeling that my legs may give out from under me. I shuffle my feet over to the bathroom, my thighs rubbing against each other as I do. I grab onto furniture for support and inch myself ever closer. It's not until I get halfway there that I suddenly realize, with a shock, that I just walked by several windows that I opened earlier. I quickly cover my body, cupping one hand over my wet pussy, and holding my other across my chest. My face burns red and I hustle to the bathroom. My neighbors are likely at work anyway...they wouldn't see anything..right?
I close the bathroom door behind me; on it rests a large full length mirror. My reflection gazes back at me - a tired, defeated young woman, with her hands still covering her shame. Exhausted, but clearly with the early markings of lust. A straight haired brunette, looks at me. Though I have experimented with curls in the past, it is normally straight, and falls down past my shoulders. Right now it is a bit disheveled. It is usually tied back for work purposes, since I can't have my hair all over the place messing up and contaminating things. I have hazel eyes, and I tend to wear a light amount of eye liner. It is typically the only makeup I'll wear, along with lipstick, if I'm wearing any. My ears are pierced, but I'm not wearing earrings. Usually something small and not too flashy if I am. Like most people, my ears are sensitive, and whispering things into my ear while kissing or nibbling them is a good way to get my attention both emotionally and physically. Depending how you look at it, given my preference for emotional connections, you could say my ears are indirectly the most sensitive part of my body. My nose is small, cute, and thin. My lips and mouth are clean and healthy. Full. Pink. If I wear any lipstick it is a light shade of red. I love to kiss, and could be very content doing nothing but that for the whole night. My cheeks are soft and clear, and I blush very easily, even now with a faint red hue at the realization II may have shown off my nude body to anyone who may have been glancing at my apartment.
My chest/upper body is thin. I don't have a lot of upper body strength, its mostly in my legs. My right arm and shoulder is only slightly more muscular then my left, as I am right handed. My hands are small and can be kinda cold, with long tapered fingers. I don't normally wear nail polish. If I wear any, it is more a clear film or a very light normal nail color just to make it shine. No bracelets or rings for the most part.
My breasts are small, but perky. Again, only about an "A" cup. They're easy to cup with your hands since they are small, but they're fun to massage and tease as well. My areolas are maybe a little on the puffy side. My nipples are a light shade of pink and betray my lust, swelling to twice their size. Originally meant cover my breasts, my hand, almost of its own will, continues to kneed and rub my perky chest What I really love though, is to have them sucked. Gently, lovingly, maybe a little rough or forceful at times. I also really like to be fingered, and any position where a guy can both gently finger me and suck or play with my breasts and I'm a very happy girl. I can get very squirmy then. I can't help it. But having to sorta hold me down makes it so much hotter.
I have a small frame, and just looking in the mirror, I can see part of my 10th rib on both sides. With a little pressure over my lower chest I can feel the tips of my 11th and 12th ribs, the ones that don't connect to the sternum. Moving along the sides, you can easily press the spaces between my ribs, my sternum, clavicles. All things you would find on anyone else, just a bit easier to find on me.
My abdomen is soft and very thin. I'm very ticklish. Not the laughing kind of ticklish, but the squirmy kind. My belly button is an innie, not pierced. I don't wear shirts that show off my midriff or bellybutton, but it does look cute if I wear a bikini or the one piece of lingerie I own that shows it off.
My legs and thighs are very smooth and kinda muscular, since I do a good amount of running/jogging. Now, however, they struggle just to keep me upright. I move my hand aside and my mound looks back. It has a trimmed triangular shaped patch of hair. It's neat and trimmed nice, only a little curly. It's fun to play with and run your fingers through. I tried the totally shaved look once, at the request of a boyfriend, and it looked cute and all, but wasn't for me. Besides, my breasts are small as it is, I need something to make it look like I went through puberty. Below that is my clitoral hood and my clit. She's pink and small. Normally a little hard to find, I tilt the mirror slightly, and my engorged clit peaks out at me, unable to conceal itself. Below that, are my lips, my labia. I love to be fingered. I love to be teased and have my labia rubbed and to trace the crack between my lips. I don't squirt, but I can become very wet. It's both embarrassing (especially if the guy draws attention to it) and arousing, that I can get so wet, that it can drip down me, and I can't hide how turned on I am. Done right, I can cum just from being fingered. If you suck my breasts at the same time I become a squirmy wet mess. Penile penetration feels great, though I do like being fingered more. I'm a small girl and can only stretch so far. But if I'm wet enough it isn't a problem. I love the initial penetration. That feeling of having your lips spread and grazed along the sides, then having your pussy gently spread open, followed by a sudden feeling of warmth. It is a weird, though pleasant, feeling of having someone else inside you. I'm nice and warm, and have been told I'm very tight. While fingering makes me a little squirmy and whimper a lot, fucking makes me moan a lot more.
My feet are small, soft, and dainty. Clear nail polish, again, if any. I do wear anklets from time to time, on my left. I think they're cute.
I pull back the glass door for my standing shower and get the water started. A nice shower is what I need to relax right now. While that heats up, I grab a paper cup from the dispenser on my sink and down several glasses of water along with the Tylenol, to help fend of the dehydration and my headache. My bare feet slap along the cold tiled floor until I come to the toilet. I sit down, the pressure off my legs feels so much better. The seat feels cold against my butt. My bladder contracts hard, my urethra twitches, and I relieve myself. I reach between my legs and wipe my pussy, maybe, uh, spending more time than is really necessary to clean myself but succumbing to the feeling of the soft tissue rubbing against me.
I stumble back to the shower, opening the door just ajar to stick my hand in and feel the water. I climb in, the sudden rush of warm water all over my frail body feels so good. The water soaks through my hair, turning it a darker shade of brown, and matting it down. I crane my neck back and it drips down my face, down my neck, over my breasts, streaking down my abdomen, over my navel, soaking my pubic hair, and collecting between my thighs before dripping down my legs onto my feet. The steam has an almost intoxicating feel. I feel weak, tired, but more relaxed. For a while I just stand there, eyes closed, breathing in the humid air, letting the water purify me.
In one of the corners, on the side of shower head, on the wall opposite the door, is a shower caddy. A stainless steel pole that makes contact with the floor and roof of the shower, and having three little baskets over flowing with all sorts of soaps, shampoos, and gels. I squirt a liberal helping of shampoo into my hands and vigorously massage it into my scalp. It feels so nice to finally get the grime and sweat off of me. A quick repositioning under the showehead and I feel the thick soap and bubbles rinse from my hair, down my neck and back, between my butt crack, down my legs, and spilling over the shower floor, creating a foamy pool that flirts with my feet before swirling down the drain. A similar amount of conditioner, and my hair is all nice and shiny now.
I fumble through the contents of one of the baskets and fish out one of the loofahs. Why on Earth do I have so many of these things? I think they're multiplying. I grab a random bath gel, too tired at the moment to put any thought into what fruit or scent I want to smell like. I lather every square inch of my pale white skin. My erect nipples catch on the interwoven surface of the loofah and I hum faintly to myself. My breasts are coated with a thick layer of bath gel and I just can't help but rub them deeply. I've always been a little concerned about their size. I wish they were larger. Not huge, just, you know, a little fuller. I know men like women with larger, perky breasts, and growing up I worried they wouldn't find me as attractive. My little mosquito bite tits were a not uncommon source of teasing by other girls. Guys I'd be intimate with would also sometimes poke fun at them, but in a loving, teasing sort of way. In the back of my mind though, a small, maybe not fully acknowledged part of me kinda liked the attention and embaresment. Loofah still in hand, I cup my fingers under my breast and push them upward, accentuating their cleavage. Soap drips down my neck and runs through my cleavage. My slippery hands easy slide back and forth over my chest. I prop my breasts up again and look at them fondly. My right breast may be a little bit larger, though honestly they're small enough that its hard to really tell. Tiny little bumps ring my pink areola. They aren't so bad, really. I grab hold of both nipples and squeeze them, gently at first, and then let out a faint yelp as I dig my fingernails into their pink yielding flesh.
I lather and rinse off the rest of my body, the gel making my skin soft and shiny. I bend over, my pussy peaking out from between my legs, and I lather up my thighs down to my toes. I grab hold of the shower caddy for support and lift one leg up, washing between my toes. I quickly shift legs, as I can already feel my hamstrings tightening up as they're forced to carry to brunt of my body weight. I run my hands back up my legs, over my hips, and massage some gel into the fleshy part of my cheeks. Despite my small frame and thin body, my ass has a large, shapely, round look. Well, large for my size. I part my butt cheeks sightly, making sure to wash everything. I'm a little, um, skittish when it comes to my butt. It does feel great to be rubbed and grabbed, but I just feel a little uncomfortable if a guy, er, well, spreads me open, back there. I'm a little sensitive about my asshole. I've never had anal sex. I'm just worried about how dirty I might be, and of course, how much it will hurt. Even vaginal penetration, especially if I'm not fully wet, can hurt a bit. Some of my girlfriends who have tried anal sex said it was unpleasant and painful for them. I imagine you'd have to be really relaxed to enjoy it; and I'd be too nervous. Not that any of this ever deters guys from asking for anal. That being said, I.um..I do kinda...fantasize about it. What it would feel like. To get on all fours, to have a guy part my butt cheeks, exposing my tight dainty little asshole, and that initial feeling of warmth against my hole before the head of his penis splits me open.
I turn my attention to my quivering cunt. The poor dear. I've been playing with the rest of my body but neglecting her. I'm so wet, I can feel my vaginal fluids exuding from my pussy lips and soaking my thighs. I'm ready. A man could easily slide into me right now. I wash my pubic hair, and then my thighs, and finally my pussy. I let out a quit moan as my clot brushes against my fingers. My outer pussy lips, my labia, are thick and moist with desire, and curve somewhat inward. I trace my fingers around my lips, and it quivers with approval. My legs feel weak, my knees wobble. The fatigue is getting to me, standing is becoming a strain, and my whole body aches and drips with desire. I part my lips and stick two fingers as deep as I can into my pussy, rubbing the soft pink flesh inside. I moan, no longer the quiet kind of whimpers I've had so far, but a loud deep cry of lust. My legs feel weak, and without thinking I feel myself lowering myself to kneeling position. The water constantly sprays in my face and breasts. The heels of my feet dig into my soft butt. I breathe heavily, enjoying taking the weight off my joint and muscles. All pretense aside I continue fingering my pussy, rubbing deep inside. I start to pant and moan heavily. I withdraw my fingers and see a thick glob of my fluids. I rub my lips and flirt with my clot.
There is something almost submissive about this position. On my knees, being sprayed with water. Exhausted. Fatigued. Unable to fight. I close my eyes, and as I finger myself, I fantasize. I'm at perfect cock sucking height and naturally it quickly comes to mind. How great in would feel. I day dream about a strong dominate hand running through my wet hair, bringing my head closer. I open my mouth wide for my imaginary partner, the water lapping against my tongue. The fictional partner in my fantasy starts off gentle, playing with my hair while I take his warm throbbing cock into my waiting mouth. In reality, my skin starts to flush and my pussy wets itself, happy with this little dream. "Please be gentle," I say quietly to no one. Now grabbing fistfuls of hair, I imagine my mouth being used a little more forcefully. My cunt aches and I start to rock back and forth on my heels.I imagine my fictional lover cumming deep in my mouth. In real life, I swallow. I gaze up at the shower head. My body needs relief.
I struggle to get t my feet, and detach the showerhead from its holder on the wall. I get back on my knees - this is where I belong - and I snake the hose and the showerhead between my legs. The hot water sprays against my slutty lips and slams into my delicate clitoris. I throw my head back, and moan loudly, unable to hide my lust. With one hand holding the showerhead, I use my free hand to fondle my breasts. What I need is a way to do this hands free. Again I try to bring myself back up to a standing position. I bend my knees, barely off the ground, but feel them give out on me and my butt slams into the cold hard tiled floor with a small splash. Breathing heavily I try again, my head swimming, and manage to get up, but with some discomfort. I grab the showehead and wrap it around the pole that is holding up all my shower toiletries , shampoos, and soaps. I turn it to its high pressure setting and aim it into the far corner of the shower stall. I quickly drop to my knees, the heat and steam finally getting to me and robbing me of any strength I had left. I crawl over to the corner, and sit down. I spread my legs as wide as I can - so unladylike like, such a dirty girl - and whimper as the forceful jet of water ravages my tiny little wet pussy. I fidget and squirm, trying to avoid the water from directly hitting my clit. Try as I might, I have neither the coordination nor strength, and stray jets of water fuck my clit. Faint hints of tears well up in my eyes; it's too much, it hurts. My swollen clit throbs angrily. I manage to reposition myself a tad, but enough so the water isn't hitting my most sensitive sport directly. Though, now and then, I feel a shock shoot up my spine as my poor clit takes a stream of water head on.
I close my eyes, and now, hands free, I rub my nipples. Hard. Barely able to move, at the mercy of the shower, being fucked. In my state of exhaustion, my inhibitions are subdued. Almost as if drunk. I fantasize about being discovered like this. Being found on the floor of my shower, in a puddle of water, my legs spread wide and my pussy plainly visible, my throbbing clit and swollen nipples and labia, my shame unable to be hidden. What would it be like to have a guy find me like this. Maybe..maybe more than one guy. My cunt squirms with approval. I rest my head against the cold hard tile, breathing deeply and fast, day dreaming about men taking advantage of me in my weakened state. They demand anal sex. They want to cum on me. They need to double penetrate me. I imagine putting up only the faintest of fights, arguing that I don't want to...but at the same time getting on my hands and knees and grabbing my butt and spreading it open for them.
I can feel my pelvic muscles tightening up. My swollen lips around my pussy are burning. My clit throbs. I'm breathing so hard and fast it feels like I'm running a marathon. I reach down between my legs and spread my lips open, the water splashing in. I furiously start rubbing my pussy. My heart is pounding, my skin flush with desire. I give out one last drawn out, defeated, whimper, as I feel my pussy alternating between clenching and relaxing in orgasm. My water lover, however, continue to fuck me. My feeling of relief and bliss are suddenly replaced by pain. I can become very sensitive after I orgasm, and the water continue to pound my pussy. In a perverse mixture of pleasure and pain, I squirm around without the strength to help myself. My muscles ache and refuse to comply. My eyes feel wet. I cry and whimper, hurt, but getting off on the submission. Please....no more. I can't take this. I feel my pussy quiver and tighten up again. Oh..oh God....already? My legs start to shake - I'm going to cum again. I cry loudly as several intense contractions occur throughout my body. My vagina spasms. My toes curl and I can't control my body from shaking. With each individual contraction I moan like a little slut, until the shear force of everything, my body shaking, topples me over. I quickly crawl away, freeing myself from my over zealous lover. Panting so hard my mouth is dry, my inner legs are drenched with my dirty little fluids. I rinse myself off one last time, with the low pressure setting, and my hands no where near my privates - for my own good.
I get up and turn the shower off. I towel off, tired, but satisfied. With a little more spring in my step then there was when I started, I walk back to bed and cuddle up with my pillows and sheets. I sleep like a baby.
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