Porn didn’t do it for me. I bloody wished it had. I set my wine down and moved my hand between my legs, pressing against the seam of my pajama pants. I wasn’t wearing panties. I pushed my middle finger down against my clit, slowly curling it up.
I stared at the TV, watching some large breasted red-head get fisted while she had an oversized cock rammed down her throat. Was this supposed to turn me on or terrify me?
I closed my eyes, resting my head back against the couch. I slid my finger against myself, up and down. Then I moved it in small circles. My mound began to swell, getting wet and hot. I stuck my hand inside my pants, spreading my lips and rubbing my clit.
My heart beat a little faster. I opened my legs, feeling myself get wetter. I took in a deep breath. I wanted to come already. I circled my fingers faster. My clit swelled, getting rigid.
I opened my mouth. Yes. I could feel the orgasm coming. I moved my fingers even faster…faster…I was close…faster…faster…and nothing.
I stopped to switch hands. My wrist hurt. I pulled down my PJs. I fucking needed to come now. I got myself all hot and bothered. Fuck. My cunt tightened. I stuck a finger inside me, stroking my G-spot.
Still nothing.
Fuck. I moved my fingers back to my clit. I was close…so fucking close…I could feel it building up…I opened my mouth, taking in a deep breath. My thighs tightened. I reached down with my other hand, spreading my lips. I widened my legs, furiously stroking my clit. I was wet and so hot…but nothing.
I let my hand fall onto the couch. I had a headache now. Fucking great. I got up and went to bed, frustrated and on the verge of tears.
Chapter 3
I set the paper bag of bagels on my desk, sipping my coffee as I scooted the wooden rolling chair away from the desk with my foot. The office was somber this early on a Monday morning. I was half an hour early for my shift. I liked arriving early. It gave me time to finish my coffee and catch up on the latest cases.
Though today, I was doing nothing but deskwork. I fired up my dinosaur of a computer. Dad didn’t see the purpose of updating something he thought “worked.” I shook my head, tapping my fingers on the paper coffee cup as I waited for the computer to slowly boot up.
I finished my white chocolate mocha by the time I had my programs open. I blinked, logging in to the database. I might need another cup of joe before lunch.
I had been determined to win the battle with Big O. My right wrist was a little sore. After tossing and turning for a few hours, I’d tried masturbating again.
And I’d gotten a big fat nothing.
I’d gotten in the tub for a warm soak and stroke. That hadn’t done it for me. I’d scooted myself under the faucet, spreading my legs so the hot water would gush down on my clit. With a little finger fucking, that always did it for me.
But alas, all it had done was give me a serious version of female blue balls. I’d drowned my woes in another half glass of wine and passed out on the couch. I woke up tired and ashamed of myself. Part of me hated that I felt shame about letting go, about having a night alone, drinking and touching myself. I didn’t want to be so uptight. I just didn’t know how not to be.
My mind drifted to the blue-eyed doctor that visited me in my dreams, to the way he touched me, the way his hands wrapped around my throat and his cock rammed into my core, filling me so much I could feel it in my throat. I wanted that in real life so bad it hurt.
That was what I craved. The touch. The feel of a man behind me, in me, on me…
I shook my head. I couldn’t think about that right now. I was already bothered. I didn’t need to get hot and bothered at work. I sighed and looked around the precinct. It was both good and bad that I didn’t find any of my co-workers fuck-worthy. I had a thing for a man with a gun, of course.
I didn’t need that distraction. Not if I wanted to do a good job. And I did do a good job, dammit. Besides…it was against policy to date anyone from work. I wasn’t going to break policy.
The day dragged on, and I shifted uncomfortably in my chair. The seam of my polyester pants rubbed against me. I sighed, longing for the bar and getting lost in the arms of a stranger…and for the ability to throw my inhibitions to the wind for a few hours like any normal person could do. I blinked several times and turned the monitor off my computer once I printed my reports.
I made small talk on my way outside for lunch. It was raining today, which dropped the temperature a good ten degrees from yesterday. I subconsciously smoothed my hair, which was up in a standard tight bun, and walked across the street to my car.
I went to the same cafe almost every day for lunch before Ken and I split. I cut back to three times a week, then two, then one. I went on Mondays to remind myself the start of the work week was something to look forward to.