It's a bright and sunny morning!

You feel the warmth of the sun on your back, and stir gently. You move like a liquid that has settled into the furrows and hollows of the bed. It is exceptionally comfortable as you stretch your slender arms out, shrugging off the light summer comforter, becoming still once again as you bask in the sunshine. You drift in and out of sleep for a few moments but then -

Chirp Chirp Chirp - Chirp Chirp Chirp - Chirp Chir -

Snatching the offending phone up and switching the alarm off, you remember your early appointment with Gwen. A sigh follows as the other ups and downs of the night before gradually return to you. You'd better get moving rather than spend the morning dozing.

No matter the circumstances, however, you can still enjoy the richly contented feeling of warmth and comfort. As you gradually sit up, you look yourself over. You have one leg bent and on the bed still and the other hangs over the edge. Your hands run down one thigh, past the knee and to the little foot at the end. You inspect your perfect nails, slender toes and elegant arch, marveling at the soft golden skin that is unmarked by blemish or crease. And then as you are bent over and examining the minute detail of your foot, you become aware of your bare breasts hanging free with a ponderous weight. Involuntarily your hands stray to them, stirring a heat in your chest and stomach and cunt, accompanied by intense jolts as your fingers brush lightly over your stiffening nipples.

There's little point in fighting it this time. You expected to have to take care of yourself in the morning anyhow, and the surging need within you will make resistance futile very shortly.

You lean back, drawing both legs up, bent at the knee, leaning on one elbow as your pussy receives the attention it craves at last from the fingers of your free hand. You are struck by an idea and reach awkwardly for the cupboard door with one outstretched foot. After a couple of attempts you manage to grasp the door handle with your toes and pull the mirror-fronted door out so that you are treated to the unobstructed sight of your parted lips, glistening with their morning dew. Your increasingly skilled fingers are already spreading your further until you can glimpse the inky darkness inside you; fluttering around the edges of your tiny opening before slipping back up to attend to your clit; gently but firmly rubbing with the pad of a finger on either side, you find yourself tightening, back curling and knees tensing, head and neck craning to see more in the mirror, coiling your spring ever tighter as your oozing vagina grasps at nothing. You are peaking but something isn't right. There is no release. Just a maddening plateau of pre-orgasmic desperation. You try increasing the pressure - no, that hurts. You try increasing the speed - that stops you from feeling each movement and the frisson it creates... You lie back in a state of manic need, bewildered by your body, and try to think of other techniques. Your other hand cups one heaving breast, pressing and pawing it like a prom-date newbie, with not at all unpleasant results, but it still doesn't unlock the paralysis in your loins.

As you lie there in ecstatic misery, you become painfully aware of the regular **** grasping of your vagina and you realize that it must be its emptiness that is confounding you. Jamming your middle fingers into your steamy cunt, you are rewarded with a lurch closer to release. You pump them in and out; wriggle them around; flex them into a curl in a come-hither motion... but it is still not enough. You wail in frustration as you sit up and cast your wanton eye around the room, looking for anything that will fit up there. Everything is either far to narrow or far too big. Even in your current state you're terrified at the thought of the baseball bat leaning in the corner.