Written by: Sylvia
I feel very tense tonight, and have an incredibly strong yearning for release. It has been five days of complete abstinence, an entire sexless work week. Sitting naked on my bed, I turn to glance at my reflection in the full length mirror on the wall. I admire my bright red hair, deep blue eyes, and creamy, freckled skin. My gaze wanders over my rather large, round breasts and their pink, sensitive nipples: soft globes of flesh that seem to invite caresses and fondling. A smile touches my full lips as I slip my hand down across the front of my chest, lightly passing over one nipple, feeling it harden beneath my palm’s passage. I blush with arousal as an electric tingle shoots straight to my clit, which begins to demand attention. I resist, at least for now…
I let my other hand drop down past my tummy to caress the top of my bare thigh. My legs are long, made shapely by tennis and biking. White cotton socks adorn my small feet, at the moment my only item of clothing.
I close my eyes, tilting my head back, wondering if I should pleasure myself, or perhaps only tease. My fingers roam over my chest, pausing to roll a nipple. I lick my lips in anticipation.
I decide I really need an orgasm tonight.
But how? My mind tingles with possibility. Glancing over my shoulder, I consider the soft coverings of the bed, imagining myself reclining, legs apart, and beginning my climb to ecstasy. Turning my eyes toward the bathroom, I consider the waiting tub. Were it to be filled with hot, steamy water, and liberal amounts of scented bubblebath, it could become my personal oasis of paradise.
My hand moves slowly from my thigh to my soft pubic mound. The feel of the fine, reddish-blonde hair is enticing and exotic tonight. I brush one fingertip lightly against my clitoris, and my desire swells. My gaze settles on the full-length mirror. I want something new tonight, something exciting.
My breath increases and my heart races as I make my decision. I close my eyes once more, and allow my fingertips to rub rhythmically against my clit in mesmerizing circles. This sends surges of pleasure through me. I quiver with lust, my arousal making me weak, and lay back on the bed. I move so that my left hand palms a breast, while my right continues to work erotic magic on my love button. As if transfixed, my eyes slip open and stare at my flushed face in the mirror. Not daring to touch myself directly anymore, I slide my fingers off my clit and into my wet vagina. My pussy quivers, sending throbs of arousal through me. The sensation is almost like sex, yet with an edge of teasing, not satisfaction. I begin to wonder if I could stop myself now. Am I past the point of no return?
Squirming beneath my sensual ministrations, I force myself to a sitting position and peer into the mirror. I want to witness my own orgasm.
My legs open as my fingers pump in and out a little faster. My shapely rear grinds against the satin sheets and my eyes fight to stay open.
Abruptly, I stop. My desire crests just below the threshold of orgasm, and I moan in delicious frustration.
Tonight I need to see everything up close. Though my knees are weak, I manage to rise from the bed. I slowly approach the mirror, staring intently at my hard, pointed nipples and damp, glistening thighs. Sliding up to within a few inches of the glass, I part the soft curls concealing my