This poignant solo masturbation erotica is by Tabitha Rayne. Read here by the author herself, it originally appeared on her website.
It’s been days, possibly a week or even two since I left this flat. Probably longer since I updated any sort of social media. My phone hasn’t rang and my door hasn’t been knocked. There’s no concerned notifications from my online friends.
I feel lonely.
I think of the time I hadn’t seen Mary across the landing go out to get her morning paper and I’d chapped her door to make sure she was OK.
I take another praline from the tattered box. Left over Christmas chocolates – you know, the ones that you can even wrap up the next year to give to your gran or some neighbour you’d forgotten about.
I’ve actually begun to enjoy the crunch of the outer shell and sinking my teeth into the flaccid centre that would usually repulse me. Needs must though and the good stuff had been finished two days ago. The creamy feel to these chocolates has a sudden impulse wash over me. I feel like having sex. Sex! Out of nowhere, I feel horny.
This is big news.
I look around my room, suddenly very aware of the crack in the curtains. It’s after midday and I’m still in bed eating chocolates but now I am horny. Sudden paranoia creeps over me as I think about what I’m going to do next. The chink in the curtain shouts at me as I allow the first tentative roaming of fingers.
Heart pounding, I leap up and pull closed the offending strip of light where everyone in the world could see in.
I leap back into my warm bed, my cocoon. My safety and now my seductress. Just to be sure, I pop another praline between my lips and lie back, letting it melt slowly as I slide my fingers to my mound. My palms skim the dip of my belly and I wonder if I’m malnourished or chubby with my current existence of sleep and chocolates.
As my hands cup my pussy and I push a finger into the slippery folds, my hips buck up and my pelvis undulates, dispelling my worry that my muscles have wasted.
I tip my head back into my pillow, exposing my throat, imagining my lover is clamping my airways as he fucks me. The chocolate melts into my throat, the silky liquid mimicking the feel and warmth between my legs. Two fingers, three, plunge in and I hear mewls and groans leaving me.
The image of three large men blasting into my room and taking their pleasure in me has me convulsing around my own fingers, shuddering in that place of sublime release and I come hard over hands. I clutch my pussy and hold it, twitching around my digits tasting the last of the sweet liquor of melted chocolate and saliva on my tongue.
I finally flop back into the pillow. I reach for the box but there is only one praline left. I place it in my mouth, relishing the musky scent of myself on my fingers mingled with the cocoa.
I’ll have to get up tomorrow and get to the shops. Not today though.
Unless someone comes looking for me today, then I will get up, I tell myself… then check my phone for any notifications.
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