It’s always Polite to say Thank You!
This is my Thank You note to “bawdy.” My Mom taught me to be polite and to say thank you when someone does something nice for you. I don’t think this is what she had in mind or ever thought I would be thanking someone for, but it applies. And well, to each his/her own.
Summer is coming to an end and it’s a rainy Sunday September morning. Even though I could be up doing a hundred things that need to get done, I remain in bed daydreaming and just relaxing the morning away. I had a very physical and busy day yesterday, so I don’t believe I’m being lazy, just relaxing. I convince myself that I am not lazy and that this is a well-deserved luxury.
It’s a little after eleven o’clock and it’s my sister’s birthday. So, before I do anything else, I decide to give her a call. Reaching over to the bedside table, I grab my phone from its resting place on my lap-top. Then I press the number four to speed dial my sister. I reach her answering machine and leave a message. I start to sing “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you…” I’m sure you get the picture.
A few minutes later, my cell rings. The caller I.D shows my sister’s picture and name. I answer with “Happy Birthday!” She laughs and like always she says, “How did you know it was me?” And like always I have to inform her, for the thousandth time, “Because when you call my cell, your picture and name pop up on my screen.” It never ceases to amaze me that she always asks how I know it’s her calling. A modern technology geek she is not, but I love her.
We talk for about twenty minutes. I ask what her plans are for her birthday and she tells me her day’s scheduled events. Lunch with the kids, dinner out with her husband, and now she is just going to “play” on her computer. Her definition of “play” and mine are two totally different things. We are separated by eight years, but it may as well be twenty. We are alike in so many ways and yet there are major fundamental differences in our personalities and beliefs. I’m not sure if it is because my parents were older and more laidback when they raised me or if it simply is that I was raised in a different time. But we are definitely two different people.
We finish our conversation and end our call as always, “Ok. I talk to you later. Love you. Bye.” This time I added on “Enjoy your day and Happy Birthday.”
As I end my call I realize that I’m not going to be able to fall back to sleep again. I lay there daydreaming for a while and then I reach over and get my computer. I open it up and press the little silver button. I love when it boots up and comes to life. All of the lovely colors spirit across the screen and then the beautiful blue waters and sandy beach shows up on my screen saver. Typical I know but, I love the beach! The hello of my computer is often the first greeting of my day. “Hello Apple” it says (Well that’s close enough to what it says! : P).
I’ve decided how I’m going to spend my rainy Sunday morning; now heading toward early afternoon. I go to my “favorites” menu and open Literotica.com. As I’m on the home page I run down some of the new stories listed. One title catches my attention quickly: “Remote Control Punishment.” It sounds interesting and a little like it might be fun. It’s an author I haven’t read before. So, I click on it and I’m immediately bahis firmaları taken to the story page. I read it. It’s really good. I enjoy it enough to rate it a “five.” Not something I do too frequently.
Although there is one exception and that is most stories written by the author JazCullen. But that’s a totally different story genre and maybe a topic for another time.
I not only rate the story I just read a “five” but, I go one step further and type in a comment. A little personal note, but the author and story deserve it. It was a quick read, so I go to the “Author’s Home page” and read down the list of stories he has submitted. A few of them have titles that catch my attention. So I read a second story. Another good read. I go on to read a third story. Great! I really liked this one. I hit my “five” star and I make another comment. I let the author know I appreciate his work and that he is quickly becoming a favorite of mine. I don’t post all my favorites, but I keep a personal list. I may update my posting list but not just yet.
As I read each story I was really getting into them. They were humorous and sexy at the same time they were very realistic. The ones I read were everyday tales that could happen to anyone; today for some reason that aspect appealed to me. I’m not an outrageous sort of person and it doesn’t happen often, but I was a little turned on after reading three or four stories. So, now I’m feeling a little energetic and a little hungry. I pop out of bed and strip off my pajamas. I get some clean clothes from the dresser and place everything on the chair at my bedside. Standing there naked, in my air conditioned bedroom; I’m now feeling a little playful.
I decide before I go in to take my shower, I’ll “relax” a little. Naked, I crawl back into bed. I toss the pillows on a pile and rest my back up against them. I close my eyes and start to fanaticize using some of the story lines I just read but in no way did I plagiarize! I adjusted them to meet my fantasy while I started to meet my needs.
At first I just closed my eyes and lay there, transporting myself into the fantasy. I know my body and I can’t rush things. It is often “mind over matter” for me. And as they say, “A mind is a terrible thing to waste.” So, I try very hard to use it as a first line tool in these situations. It’s one of those times where ‘planning and preparation’ lead to positive and pleasing outcomes.
At first I’m setting the scene in my mind. In honor of the author, I allow myself to be taken to an English country side. I’ve recently seen a PBS special on Northamptonshire, England so I’m transported there. I remember this one picturesque scene where there was a beautiful hill with a sole tree surrounded by pretty and colorful wild flowers. The view from there was of the green hills and knolls where all the eye could see was green grassy mounds as they melded into the bright blue sky full of white puffy clouds. Below the hill is a walking path, but it was vacant, completely devoid of people.
My imagination is working well today and in my mind I’m under that tree surrounded by high flowers and grasses. No one can see me. I’m resting with my back up against the tree (in reality pillows) and I’m lying there in the sun. It gets too hot and I decide since no one is anywhere close by and I haven’t seen anyone along the path, I’ll take my clothes kaçak iddaa off and do a little nude sun bathing.
As I’m lying there I become very relaxed and a little sleepy. I don’t want to fall asleep. I need something to keep me awake. I decide to reach down and touch myself. I’m just lightly caressing the pads of my fingers over my sex lips. I’m gentle. I take my time. I am gently caressing the fatty folds of my sex over and over until I feel my pussy getting a little moist. I don’t want to rush so now I add another finger for added stimulation. My forefinger is on my left lip, my middle finger is in the valley between my lips and my ring finger takes its place on the fatty tissue of my right labia. I continue to stroke myself back and forth, never entering my pussy, simply skirting over my skin’s surface.
I continue this maneuver for several minutes; I’m just relaxing and caressing myself. Now, I can feel the sex juices building up. I’m fairly wet now. I barely allow my middle finger to slip between my lips into my pussy. I’m wet and I feel my pelvis reach up reflexively to gain contact with my finger. The tip of my finger scarcely brushes against the apex of my soft wet inner labia. They are silky to touch and my finger slides easily between them. I start to spread my labia open with my thumb to allow better access. I insert my forefinger to join my middle finger in a teasing motion over my slick inner labia. Now my fingers are fully enclosed in my pussy. It feels exceptional and I start to feel the initial pulsations in my bud. Their light but definitely present.
My fingers have a mission and they start to explore a little more wildly. They (my fingers) fondle the inner walls of my labia majora stimulating more blood flow to them and making them feel even fuller. After a few minutes I have all three fingers in my pussy. I’m slick and warm and soft and I’m enjoying every stroke my fingers make. My head is back and my eyes are closed. My breathing is slowly increasing its pace, but is much shallower than normal. As my fingers continue to massage my inner folds, my middle finger initiates the massage to the tissue attached to the head of my clit. I can feel it become firm as I continue to stimulate it. I feel my clit start to become engorged and harden a little. I’m starting to pant and every so often a sigh of “Ah!” or “Umm!” escapes from me.
My caresses increase in pace and my clit is now erect. I continue to massage the firm tissue above it and then focus on the body of my clit. My middle finger is now in charge of clit stimulation and the other two are still on labia patrol. It is getting more intense and my fingers increase their pace somewhat. Not too fast, just enough to take me to the next level. My pelvis starts to arch up. I allow my knees to fall open and my legs rest bent, but completely spread apart. Now, I have full exposure of and access to my pussy. My breathing increases. More and more frequently sounds are coming from me. “Umm, oh!” I hear it a few times and I surprise myself; I’m usually not this vocal.
I can feel the pulsations turn to throbs. My pussy is slick and my fingers continue their ministrations. My clit is now throbbing and I can’t help myself. I try to clench my pelvic wall and vaginal muscles to hold off my heightened arousal, but it doesn’t help. In fact, that just increases the pressure and my need tenfold. kaçak bahis My pelvis bucks up and instinctively my fingers start to move faster. All three fingers are doing a fantastic job. I give them a “five” and pray for a “six.”
I’m so close. I hear the words in my head, “you’re so close.” I have this little mental conversation going on in my head. “You’re close, so close. Don’t rush it. Just keep doing what you’re doing. This feels good.” I can’t describe the tension that is so focused in my fucking little clit that it makes me want to cry out. How can one small, little piece of vascular tissue be the cause of either so much torture or so much pleasure? One wrong move at the wrong time and I’m done for. It can go either way. Sometimes I think it’s so much more difficult for women. (But, not ever having been a man I don’t really know. If I’m wrong, Sorry guys! I’m sure you have your own issues.)
I keep up the same moves, the same pressure. “It’s working. It’s really working.” My mental conversation continues of its own volition. I am close. I feel my slickness increase. My breaths are coming in pants and I’m pursing my lips so tight I’ll most likely be bruised.
I keep fondling myself like it’s my life’s mission to reach orgasm today. “Oh God! Ah! Ah! Ah! , Oh God!” I’m on the edge and so close. I let my middle finger slide into my vagina and my forefinger takes over clit duty. “Oh God!” “Fuck!” That was so the right judgment call to make.
“Oh fuck!” I can’t take it much longer. I’m pinching my muscles together and increasing the stimulation to my clit. My pelvis arches and I feel my throbs surge open. My fingers maintain their position and their manipulations. It’s like a warm hug envelops my entire body. Like every muscle’s nerve synapses in my body just fired. It’s not some cataclysmic event like others seem to have. It’s a feeling of warmth that overcomes me and a small amount of warm liquid leaks from me. I cry out, “Ah!… Ah…! Ah!” as my fingers continue their caresses. My body releases its energy and I orgasm.
In my fantasy, when I open my eyes there is a tall good looking stranger standing before me. His light brown hair is blowing in the breeze and his emerald green eyes are penetrating as he is simply standing there looking down at me. He is watching me with a smile on his face and a gleam in his eye. I don’t know for sure how long he’s been there, but by the gleam in his eye, I’d guess for most of my journey. English men are always so polite and they never interrupt when one is otherwise engaged.
In my reality, my breathing starts to calm a little. But I don’t want this feeling to end. It’s been a while since I enjoyed this pleasure and I want more. I can still feel the tightness in my clit and the throbs have been down-graded back to pulsations. I don’t want that; I want the throbs back. So I do what any self-respecting woman does when she wants more. I start caressing myself again and work myself back up. It only takes a minute or two this time. I never fully came down from the earlier high.
I’m back to throbs and it feels good, but not nearly as good as just a few minutes ago. It’s enough to bring back the breathing and a couple of the “Ah’s!” But I don’t get to the “Oh God!” or “Fuck!” level of arousal or excitement. Maybe it has something to do with the clean English air verses the everyday air here in my bedroom.
Thank you “bawdy” for a lovely morning and so much more! If you happen to read this I hope you’re not offended. It truly is a meant as a compliment to your story telling abilities.