Lying in my twin bed, my muscles are sore, but I feel powerful! Today, I (with the help of my friends) delivered 2,000 lbs of potatoes to hungry people. Because restaurants are closed, the farmer who grew the potatoes was going to throw them away, but they were rescued and I got as many as I could to give away to friends and future-friends. It has been a long day of making sure my eyes smile over my mask and greeting people with, “hey! Do you want some potatoes?”, but I found happy homes for each and every potato.
I am sweaty, a little grimmy, and just deliciously sore. The cool breeze comes in through my cracked window. My attic room has a vent from the kitchen and I can smell the midnight snack that my housemate is making; I am sure it’s deep-fried, but not sure what it is.
My mind wanders, first over my own body, feeling and noticing my power and strength, relishing moments of stretch and strain throughout the day as I scampered up and down stairs and through yards with bag after bag of potatoes. I’m in my mid-thirties, I have a round ass and C-cup boobs, hidden in my masculine button-up collared shirt. I’m genderqueer and if I’m wearing baggy clothes, people often have trouble telling from my short haircut if I’m a girl or boy (neither!), until I open my mouth and start giggling.
From my body, my mind wanders over the bodies of my friends who helped me deliver the potatoes. Strong and capable arms, thick calves, sweat on foreheads, and the delightful slightly sweet musky smell of human bodies. I slow down my thoughts to linger on a particular set of calves, in my mind’s eye, slowly running my eyes up my friend’s body. She helped me deliver bags of potatoes to my neighbors, running up and down the street, wearing a sports bra and some cute cutoff shorts. Her curly brown bangs bounced up and down in rhythm with her chest.
I notice that my hand is wandering along with my mind, I reposition myself and take my shorts and underwear off. The cool breeze from the window is especially nice. I can feel that I’m already wet, excited, not sure if it is my own power or that of my friend’s that is turning me on. I breathe deeply and begin to touch myself in earnest. I first think of little moments of wanting, of catching her eye or of laughing smiles exchanged when folks are confused about our massive supply of potatoes. I think of early in the day when there were several of us, walking back and forth with the bags, all abuzz and excited with our find! That safe feeling of being with many trusted friends engaged in the same work you are. My fingers find my clit and spin in slow teasing circles. I take a sharp breath in and tilt my hips forward. I wanna get fucked and I relish in the wanting. I can’t help but pick up the pace a little and I start to think of the feeling of being touched and grabbed. I grab my breast with my left hand and imagine the squeezing is coming from a friendly mouth.
I’m breathing hard, my body is all lit up. Wanting has drifted from my thoughts and instead I’m focusing on having, on the pleasure my body is feeling right now. I try to slow myself down to enjoy the moment, but it just feels so good. I can smell how turned on I am, not just the sweaty smell of long day’s work, but the sweet smell of pleasure. I’m thinking of skin pressed against my skin, of my friend’s self-satisfied smile, looking up at me from between my legs. I imagine firm fingers, pressing into me, fucking me. I can feel an orgasm building and lean into it with my hips, my hand dancing circles over my clit. I breath in sharply, the warmth building, teetering, and then I cum. Yes, yes, yes! I let out a soft moan as the pleasure washes over me. I am so present with my body.
I ride this wave of pleasure as it dissipates and is slowly replaced with sleepy satisfaction. I stretch my muscles and imagine a friend massaging the sore spots before I drift off to a well-earned sleep.
Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/h9wjyp/enjoying_myself_nb_after_a_long_day_quarantine
I super appreciate more queer content here every time I see it.