She finally lets go

The sky was streaked with reds and yellows as Alexa drove home. She would have probably taken a photo of the remarkable sunset had her mind not been so occupied with thoughts of the man from her restless dreams. Her fingers sank into the foam of the steering wheel. By the time she pulled into her parking spot, she realized that she had left little fingernail-shaped marks in her thighs from her tight grasp. It felt like the hours at the salon fighting off her arousal made it return at double strength. She was so turned on that it was hard to think clearly, and that shook her. She was a fiercely independent person, a self-motivated and organized woman who did what she wanted with intention and care. She’d never been afraid of her natural sexual urges, but this was a completely different beast. Her throat felt tight with fear. Her body was in control, not her. Her hands shook as she fumbled with her door keys.

As soon as she entered, she tossed her purse on her couch and stormed into her bedroom. She didn’t have a moment to spare. This needed to end now.

She flung her sweater to the floor and crawled onto the bed. Her bed was her sacred space, reserved only for fresh, clean loungewear. She didn’t care now, lying on her back with her sneakers on and her pants and underwear hastily pulled down around her ankles. She went to work immediately, rubbing her fingers in frantic little circles around her clit. She was already soaking wet–her grey panties were sticky and clinging to her thighs. This time, the buildup was fast. Her mind was focused on remembering her favorite videos, mentally replaying the actors passionately fucking. Her body had been ready all day, and she could feel an orgasm begin to approach. As she felt her body shudder with pre-orgasm pleasure, one hand shot across her mouth to keep herself silent. The thought of totally succumbing to this animalistic fervor was shameful. At the very least, she could control her moans.