[F] Wishing you were here to taste me in all my vulnerable ecstasy

I just came three times. I think. It honestly might have been more. They came so rapidly and all-encompassing, back to back to back. Like the aftershocks that make you think an earthquake is never-ending.

I’m still trembling. My breath are labored. My tummy feels tight. My glutes feel wild from having been flexed, and I’m lying naked in bed, my pussy still smoldering to the touch, but I can’t fucking stop.

Why this sudden outburst of masturbation? I trimmed down my pubic hairs before a late-night shower at two am.

It was just a random urge. I couldn’t sleep and I was working on stuff. So, I got up to stretch then reached inside my pajamas and felt my hairs and thought, “fuck it.”

And by all the gods, it was a good decision. Like a royal treat almost. Standing in the bathtub, leg up on the side, trimming away while humming. It’s been so damn long since I’ve really trimmed, and even when I did a few times, I mostly just cut off the excess and kept my little forest floor of magic.

But I felt like going all the way tonight. Trimming it all off. The buzzing vibrations. The hairs falling away. And before I knew it, I was smooth again.

Then the cleanup. Then the shower. The wiping down. Then the falling off the cliff.

If you’ve been here a while, then you know how much I adore coconut oil. And how I always moisturize my skin with it.

I massaged it on my face. My arms. My shoulders. My armpits. My boobs. My tummy. My hips. My ass. My legs down to my ankles and my toes. The aroma is so sexual to me now, a mixture of the ocean and a holy garden. Something tropical and hot. I saved my pussy for last.

When my fingers scooped up more coconut oil and splattered it between my thighs, I almost came right then and there. Hot and lush from the shower. Hands and fingers hot from massaging myself. The oil hot against my pussy. Against my lips. Slippery and slick and so sexy smooth that my knees buckled, and I had to grab the sink to stay upright.

I usually apply the oil in my bedroom. But since it was two am and everyone was asleep, I figured I’d just do it in the bathroom while it was steamed up and cozy. And so I continued, not really committed to masturbating yet, just applying the oil, wondering what was possessing me and why my pussy felt so amazing to touch in that moment. It’s never been such a stark difference. Was it just the fact that quarantine’s been going on so long?

Slowly, but surely, my heartbeat started to rise. It was feeling so, so good. And my fingertips kept gliding over my clit, and I had to leave the bathroom. Towel in my arms, not around my body. I was naked, my breath held, making my way to my room in the dark. A little bit of light coming in from the windows. I was a pale, glistening ghost, and so horny I could barely breathe.

When I got to my room, I didn’t turn the lights on. I threw myself in bed, wet hair be damned. My pussy was getting fucked tonight.

On my back, my feet up on my headboard. My ass on my pillows. Both hands on my pussy. My clit throbbing. My lips felt heavy and needy, so I rubbed myself. I was getting so wet I was losing track of what was the coconut oil and what was just me.

But before I knew it, I was cumming with my palm pressed against my clit, my fingers rubbing hard circles into my lips, and pressing so hard that my chest filled with a surge of energy.

It shot straight into my head and ignited in my mind, and I silently cried out in the dark. My toes curling. My hips coming off the pillows. My glutes squeezing tight. My mind swirling as pleasure seized me by the heart and threatened to strangle me.

When it ended, I felt as though I’d plummeted back to earth from the stratosphere. As though I’d tasted the sun and was cast down by a meteorite.

I was still rubbing my clit furiously. With one hand now. I licked the other, palm to fingertip like some sort of mad wild creature.

Then I rolled over. Onto all fours and arching my back. Feeling my butt cheeks spreading. Feeling the cool air against my asshole and my pussy. I grabbed a pillow and stuffed it between my legs.

I started to ride it. My pillows are really fluffy and fun to squeeze, and I grabbed two more and hugged them. Moaning into them. Whimpering as I thrust. Faster. Harder. Trying to choke the life out of the pillow between my thighs. Wishing it was you instead. Your cock throbbing inside me with my knees against your sides. My arms around your head. My heat and wetness and smooth pussy completely coating your cock. Your face in my breasts as I rode you all the way to the end of the world.

Picturing you beneath me pushes me over the edge. I cum again. And completely lose track of how many times I cum. Hot tears run down my cheeks. I’m still thrusting into this pillow. I’ve lost control of my hips, my pussy has a mind of its own. The thought of squeezing your cock with my lips, of grinding against you, maybe it was too much. Maybe it was not enough. I want your hands on my tits, squeezing my breasts as I reach up for the sky with my fingers. My hair bouncing wildly as I rode you, as I took your cock into the depths of my soul.

The fantasies building and building, and I moaned into my pillows as my hips buckle. I’m trying to muffle myself, but sounds keep escaping my throat. But these orgasms come so quickfire, I’m not even sure where I am.

I don’t know how much time passed. But I was crying. Sobbing. Not even sure why. Sobbing into my pillows as I hugged them, as I humped the other one gently in the aftermath. It felt like such a big release. Like something had been swimming inside my head these past few months, drowning in the gloomy thoughts. And now it’s rushing out of me. Escaping. I wish you were here to hold me.

I wish for so many things. And I’m starting to think at the peak of orgasm is the best time to make wishes. And I feel…. something. Some presence. That’s not my own. Something so human that I’m not sure where I begin and where I end.

It’s a feeling I’ve chased for a long time. A feeling I’ve wanted to put in words for an eternity almost.

I sit up, tears still rushing down my face. I raise myself on my knees. My face to the ceiling. My wet hair falling back to my feet. Like some sort of witchcraft yoga position. A crescent moon with my hard nipples bared for the sky. My throat longing to be kissed. I felt demonic. Manic. Or maybe divine.

It felt as though some celestial being held a string connected to my womb. They tugged on my pussy as though I were some sort of sexual marionette. And I was all but submitting.

Rubbing myself. Eyes shut. Hot tears streaming down the sides of my head to my ears. My hands found my pussy again, sensitive and trembling and still aching. My fingers slide inside. My fingertips brushed my sacred spot. My palm pressed to my clit, I went slowly this time.

Stroking my insides. Urging this being, or spirit, or whatever it was to come out. Escape me. Escape these confines and be free.

And thus, in the darkness. Drenched in coconut oil. My wet hair stuck to my back and ass. Dried tears on my cheeks. I came again. A quiet orgasm. Wishing you were here to taste me in all my vulnerable ecstasy.

I fall asleep at some point. I wake up under my sheets naked, still horny, my head in a dense fog of pleasure and dream space.

I’m still rubbing myself. It just feels… I don’t know. The oil has soaked into my skin, and I still have that lingering tropical aroma. But it’s infused with my own scent, and it’s driving me crazy, filling my lungs and making me want more and more to cum again.

But I don’t want to take away from what happened last night. I want to hold on to that memory for a bit longer. Just the sheer spiritual nature of it. A blessing. A divine undoing.

Maybe this is what people felt in the ancient days when they thought the gods had imbued them with divine right.

On reflection, now as I’m editing this, I’m thinking it has to do with hope. I was letting my hairs grow wild and untamed, but that kind of has to do with the thought of “I’m not dating now or anything. Nobody will be looking at it or trying to eat me out, so what’s the point?” I feel like maybe I was taking back control of something and reopening my mind to the possibility of something and that was what triggered this.

Also, afterwards, the crashing down really sucked. In the moment I was a wild witch sacrificing my soul for the universe. Then after, I’m back to being human. Stuck in a flesh vessel. Stuck at home.

But as a historian and an author, I’m convinced the central theme of every religion, every human yearning is an elegy to this kind of feeling.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/jx53ja/f_wishing_you_were_here_to_taste_me_in_all_my