Lay herself, upon the bed

With careful intent to keep her skirt covering her damp cove, Liz rose to her feet. Her smirk was that of coquettish denial and her gait conveyed a luring that the onlooker could not answer. A mischievous look crossed her face as she slid into a sitting position atop her bed, giving one last come-hither stare before drawing her knees into her and closing the curtain betwixt them.

Assured that the peeper would only receive musical traces that would satisfy his libido effective as the smell of pie would satisfy his belly, Liz splayed her body across the bed and slowly tugged the hem of her skirt up, letting the anticipation of what she was about to commence simmer within her. The thin line of her cock mitten looked neat and cute between her spread legs. A soft, enticing aroma rose from it; quite oddly, not the smell she was used to displaying during such activities. This perfume was sweeter yet with a tongue tickling barb at the end.

Skin tingling with anticipation she was no longer able to endure, Liz daintily stroked a finger up her thigh. A giggle at how lady-like her hand looked was impossible to stifle: her legs were spread and her skirt was askew, but her fingers were straight, elegant and restrained as they reached for that pink biscuit. Her touch, too, upon her blooming love-let was tender as the butterflies wings such gentlewomen wish to mimic. And yet it sent a charge of delight throughout Liz.

Her new ring down there had indeed made her nerves quite acute. In her afire state, a shifting of that gold perched so upon her loins was both the prize and the chain to draw her in deeper.

Pleasurable though it was this self love was not but an appetizer to the main course that was her modified pistol. With all due care and the same tenderness she'd shown herself previously, Liz pressed the handle of her joy-bequeathing armament against her sweetened fillet and activated it. Now you fair reader, being from the 22nd century, no doubt have intimate knowledge of vibrators and perhaps even find them mundane compared modern to tinglers, womanizers, or nine-seconders, But please imagine with me a woman, who thought herself experienced, feeling that trembling touch for the first time. Liz's gasp was pitched high by her virgin delight. Her bosom swelled as she in-took a lungful of air in anticipation of the sounds she would make. This anticipation was followed by a moan that rocked from deep within her. Liz prodded the handle of her pistol further into her intimates, inviting it's gentle thrashings to reach every part of her pole pocket. Screams of yearning spawned from the enthralled woman's mouth lacking all reck as Liz dipped the curved wood in and out of her. With increasing tempo, she pulled and plunged her pleasure aid, calling out high and fast after each thrust.

Her other hand, answering to instinct, found her Venus nub and commenced a massage. And another onslaught of delight began, for the piercing gentle and smooth jostled about with just the right firmness to make stars dance about her tenderest.

Though an abundance of pleasure was bestowed upon Liz by her pistol and piercing, she demanded more. Ascending her hips like a bridge, did she resound this requirement, in a desire driven attempt to somehow draw the passion deeper into her loins. In this position, pressing harder and faster with her clit, sliding her handle more and more vigorously, her voice singing a single pleading note that rose in volume, Liz reached her peak. Her scream became that of relief and victory as the crest caused deluge washed through her and spilled between her legs.

The well pleased pirate collapsed into the mattress beneath her, bouncing once. Simple goodness still resound throughout her body enhancing and enchanting every detail her senses in-took. As she panted cool air into her lungs, her bosom rose and fell in mimicry of the ocean. Her pittance top draped atop her nipples clinked melodically and shifted in kind. She eventually let her eyes flutter open and stared at the reflection above. A beautiful pirate with a contented curl upon her lips, Liz gazed up at to her, sweat kissed and coin cuddled self. These glistening accruals were quite pleasing to the eye. And touch, for as Liz lay bathing in her own bliss she vacantly trailed her fingers over her coins and thereby teased the teat beneath.

But all good things must reach their conclusion, and so Liz eventually rose from her little ****, a luster for the unknown guiding her steps.