Can't Help Myself

As I write this, I should tell you, that I'm wet. More than wet. Turned on. My skin is tingling.

Ten minutes ago, I was looking for something to put inside me. And fifteen minutes before that, I had been lazily fingering myself. Pulling aside my panties, tugging on my lips, spreading myself apart with two fingers. Left handed. I had a leg propped up on the table to reach myself better. It was easier to thrust my fingers inside me. I touched my pussy like a stranger. Gentle, curiously exploring. Slightly uncoordinated since I was using my off-hand. I was moist. I know you keep lube hidden in the drawer of the computer desk. But trust me, I didn't need it.

The more I fingered myself, the more I wanted... well, more. When I was done teasing myself, that's when I decided to find something to fill me. I used the sharpie marker. The thick one. It went in ridiculously easy. I pushed it in and out several times, using different angles. I could feel it sliding around but it was not enough to clamp around. I needed to have something large enough for my pussy to squeeze.

So I used your leave-in conditioner bottle. Slimmer than a regular shampoo bottle. But it had girth. That's what's in me now. The pull-out nozzle is propped against the seat of the chair. My thighs are spread to the side. And every now and then, I'll squeeze and feel it being slowly pushed out. It only takes me sitting up straighter to slide it back in. I can use both my hands to type. To tell you what I'm doing to myself while you're sleeping. Don't get jealous. I'll be sure to entice you with sex later. I'll need it.

If I wiggle, even just a little bit, I can feel the thickness of the bottle. It's almost uncomfortable. I had to squat on the floor at first to get it in. And even then, I had to work it. I thought about the lube again. But I didn't want to deal with the stickiness. Lube takes away some of the sensation. And I didn't want to make it too easy to slide the bottle in. I wanted my pussy to get used to it, bit by sweet bit. It's easy to imagine I'm straddling you in this chair. Only I'm not moving as much. In fact, other than my pussy muscles throbbing around the bottle, I'm not moving at all.

Reaching my left hand down, I can feel the top fourth of the bottle jutting out between my soft thighs. I had to move my skirt to the side. My panties are on the floor. Somewhere. I vaguely remember stripping them off when I was searching for something shaped just right earlier.

I just propped my leg up again. The bottle all but slid out. I have to hold it in place. This makes for slow typing. It felt so warm sliding out and even now my pussy lips are spread around the circumference. It's slightly thicker than you. That would be why it's so difficult to coax back inside me. Leaning back in the chair with a leg up, I won't be able to push the bottle back in. The angle is just too steep.

God, I'm wet. I'd call it juicy. I'm afraid if I work the bottle too hard I'll end up tearing myself. Maybe not enough to make me regret sex with you later. But enough to remind me to be careful, careful-er, the next time.

The bottle won't go back in. My pussy is making these lipsmacking kissing sounds but I can't seem to manage to force it inside me.

I fixed that problem. I had to lean forward over the keyboard, adjusting myself so I was hovering over the seat. Squirming in place, my fingers pulling my lips apart, I sat slowly back down. The plastic bottle was smothered in my juices. My thighs are trembling now. The sofa is looking more and more inviting. Bracing my legs under the chair seems to be the best angle. I can swivel my hips around by pushing my pelvis forward. You know how I love penetration. I'm doing slow grinds in the chair. It's hard to keep still. My clit is begging for attention.

I've got my middle finger rubbing my clit, awkwardly. The fingers on either side hold my lips away. I'm so wet I sometimes miss my clit, my fingers slipping and sliding everywhere. I should have trimmed my nails. I've scraped my clit several times. It's torture sitting here. I think I will lay on the couch instead. It's frustrating me to not be able to focus on my clit the way I like it.

I came a few moments ago. My hands are shaking and smelling like wetwipes. If I straighten out my fingers, they tremble, tapping the keys. I ended up scooted down against the armrest of the couch, one leg dangling over it and the other draped on the floor. This way, I was able to use the armrest to hold the bottle in while my right hand furiously rubbed my clit into oblivion. I've got a sheen of sweat all over me. My glasses even fogged up. How I finally came, however, was by using my left hand to piston the bottle in and out, legs in the air, hips thrust forward, my right hand moving oh so fast. I'm so shaky. I have goosebumps even. Slight shivers. It was a good orgasm.

It's amusing to note that the conditioner is an Herbal Essences product. I'm sure I'd make a far better commercial for their product. My moans were real. Not contrived like the woman in the shower. Makes me feel like sending in a letter to the company, "Another satisfied customer."

Speaking of which, will you be ready for me?