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Last night, I put on a CD of Bizet and relaxed in front of the fire. I read a portion of a delightful book I have read before called; ‘The Copper Beech’ and sipped at a cold Australian Chardonnay. Now I suppose I begin the real thing. The main event. I lay the book aside and stand to undress. I throw my clothes over the end of the sofa and spread a huge bath towel on the cushions. The room is warm and private. The heavy, lined curtains are drawn closely. The lighting is set just so. I lay down and reach for the bottle of slightly scented massage oil, which I buy from the Body Shop. They do have some really nicely scented oils for all sorts of purposes but I find that the Camomile is the most pleasant for me. It doesn’t sting or burn as do some I’ve tried. Anyway, I begin by reclining almost fully; my head rests on the arm of the sofa so that I can watch myself. I place a rather ornate hand mirror at the end of the sofa, angled just so that I can see my centre of pleasure. I pour a small amount of oil over my breasts and set the bottle aside on the small mahogany table by the sofa. Now with both hands I begin to spread the oil around and over my breasts. I take as long as is necessary to make my nipples stand up. When they are really hard I like to pinch them gently between my fingers and thumbs. Sometimes they spring erect almost immediately and other times they take an age. I don’t mind how long it takes. It doesn’t Sex hikayeleri seem to depend on any particular thing, just how eagerly I’ve been awaiting the sensation perhaps. I really don’t know, nor do I really much care. I keep my eyes open and watch as my fingers glide over my skin. I feel every touch, every stroke, every pause, every turn of my fingers. I begin by circling around the whole breast. I deliberately avoid touching my nipples until the time is just right. I move oh so slowly so that the journey from the bottom of my breast to the nipple might take a whole minute. My nipples ache to be touched but I move even slower, slower until I can’t bear to wait any longer. Then I pause and make myself wait. Then they are hard, hard enough that I can pinch them, quite hard. I pull them until they are like small buttons standing proud of my breasts. How do I feel now? Well, I am glowing from head to toe. I can feel an ache between my legs. I know I am becoming moist down there. It’s as if a fire has been lit deep inside me. I don’t know quite where, but it has been smouldering all day. Now I have given it oxygen and fanned the flames into life. Somewhere deep inside me a mechanism has been activated that will end in me having this spine shattering, shuddering explosion of joy. I know it will come but I don’t know when. All I do know at this point is that there will be no stopping it. Prolonging Sikiş hikayeleri it has become my sole aim now. Now I will concentrate my whole being in bringing it about, but not yet. I will not be hurried. My legs are rising and falling, squeezing together and falling slightly apart. I will not touch myself yet. My breasts are my complete focus of attention. My hands glide, slowly around and around. My fingers stroke, my thumbs graze the swollen nipples. I pull and pinch gently, then harder. I watch myself. My long slender fingers graze gently to and fro. I really must do something about that nail varnish. My neck and breasts are pink, suffused with blood as the warm, tingling sensation spreads across my upper torso. My legs clamp tightly together, my knees rise and fall in an accelerating rhythm. Now I need more oil. This time I pour it into the hollow of my belly button. My belly button is quite deep for some reason, so I manage to accumulate quite an amount of oil in there, lucky me. One forefinger dips gently into the pool. This finger slides very, very slowly down over my pubic hair. The hair removes the oil so I have to return to wet it again. I repeat this until my trimmed pubic hair is glistening with the wet oil. My finger travels ever so slightly further down with each application of the oil. My feet are now set about a foot apart and my knees are raised a little. I can see my finger Erotik hikaye as it now dips between my legs. It travels down further, sliding wetly around my vagina. I allow myself only around the outer lips at first. Now the whole area is slippery with the oil. I know that my sex bud is swollen and standing clear of the surrounding folds of flesh. I continue to transfer the remaining oil until the pool is empty. Now I am ready to touch myself. Gently, oh so very gently I lay my fingertip on the swollen nub. I don’t move, I just touch, just touch. My clitoris throbs rhythmically under my finger. It has a pulse, a strong living independent pulse. It is eager to be manipulated and stroked but I will not allow that. Not yet. Did I mention already that the anticipation, the delay, the waiting is everything? Sometimes I barely need to do any more when touch it this way for several minutes and an orgasm will materialise as if from nowhere. The knowledge that my body is ready is sufficient for me to have that which I have waited for. The mere touch, gentle, prolonged and firm is all that it takes. This is a rarity however and didn’t occur last night. It occurs to me that perhaps this is the sort of thing that William might use as a fantasy, to help him ‘get his rocks off’ as he calls it. He told me he uses the Internet or magazines sometimes, to help. I can’t see why anyone would need help but then he seems to think Julia needs ‘help’ too. I think he needs to set about Julia in a completely different way but then I’m no expert. Well, don’t worry; he’ll never get to read this I can assure you. He mentioned that Dizzy used to keep him in a state he described as ‘totally fucked’.
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