The Wand

Soft sunlight streams across the bed, caressing the curves and hollows of my body as I lie curled, hair spilling across the pillows. A cotton sheet tangled around my lower limbs, testament to a restless night.

Rolling onto my back, arms raised, hands grasping the iron bars of the bed. A soft sigh escapes from my lips, my breasts rising and falling on that breath. Rose pink nipples stiffening in the air. Long lashes flutter open, taking in the creaminess of my pale skin in the sunlight. My body aches for yours, my nipples offering themselves to your lips. Even when you are absent you surround me. Your painting on the wall, to reach out and capture one drop on a fingertip, your silhouette by the window, your words whispered across my flesh in the moonlight, your scent on the sheets, your warmth lingering, as if you have been gone only moments.

Your pillow caresses the soft skin of my cheek, allowing me to breathe you in, feel your voice as if my cheek were resting on your chest. Such hunger, such need, you sate me with the touch of your lips, the caress of your fingers. You understand my wants, my desires and feed my cravings. Even now, I feel your fingers tangling in my hair, my lips pressed against your skin as my face turns into your pillow. In this moment I would do anything to have you here, caught in our spell.

I slip my hand under the pillow, withdrawing a white silk drawstring bag. Teasing apart the ribbons, peeling back the silk. In my hand lies a clear glass wand, specks of gold, like sunlight running up the shaft. Weighted perfectly, the surface ridged from tip to base. The glass is cool to my touch, pressing against my lips as I raise it to kiss the tip.

Lying on my back, legs slightly bent, hips tilted, the wand held above my face. Eyes intent as my fingers stroke over the ridges, thumb brushing over the tip. This spell I cast well. I love the coolness against my skin, the way the wand tip rubs over my lips, the firmness against my tongue. A string of saliva holding momentarily. The wand glides over the pale skin of my throat, settling against the pulse beating at the base. Following the line of my breast bone, until the glass shaft nestles between the creamy mounds of my breasts. The weight is so arousing as I slide it slowly up and down, arching my back, thrusting my tits higher. Pale pink nipples stiffen, appearing to have been lightly brushed with rouge. Languorously I trace the outline of one hardened nub with the glass tip, my fingers pinching the other and rolling it between fingertips. A gasp spills from my lips as with this attention a tingling sensation shoots to the warm core of my pussy.

Moving the wand so that it rests against the curve of my breast, I stroke the sensitive underside flesh. The glass still cool, bringing goose bumps to my skin, a little shiver rippling through my body. With my eyes closed I can feel your hands stroking me, hands cupping my breasts, your lips against mine and I bite my lip on a soft moan. The glass tip presses against my skin, circling my navel and travelling down over my stomach, the muscles clenching in response. The pale, sun-dappled flesh of my thighs parts a little more, my hand drawn to the heat of my pussy like a moth to flame.

I feel my wetness, holding my breath as the wand moves ever closer. Cool glass against warm, silky soft skin. Tracing over my slit, hips tilting up and thighs taut. The tip probes between my pussy lips, accompanied by a soft moan. My folds of flesh feel so hot and I'm certain I feel your breath against my skin, making my pussy tingle in response. A drop of nectar clings to the glass, glistening in the sunlight. This I smear over a rosy pink bud of a nipple, the sensitive flesh contracting and tightening still further, my breath quickening. My whole body pulsing with arousal, the scent of which hangs in the air, that musky smell that almost clings to the tongue.

My pussy is so wet, so hot. Just a word from you, a thought of you and my body responds. Fingertips dance over the smooth mound, so silky my skin, so fragrant, burning with raw hunger. Slipping between the velvety folds, my fingertip swirls in the dew, coating the edges of my lips, teasing my clit. The glass wand follows, stroking down the length of my slit, until it rests against the entrance. Circling my clit slowly with a fingernail, pushing the wand into my heat, my pussy grasping at it, trying to suck more and more into my tightness. The glass ridges causing the most delicious of sensations, as I lingering thrust it backwards and forwards, until half the wand is inserted. My pussy lips stretched around the glass, moans of pleasure on the air..

Middle finger pressed over my throbbing clit, each movement accompanied by a moan, my pussy clenching around the wand as I thrust it deeper, removing it completely before thrusting in again. Caught on the edge, hips lifting off the bed, thrusting faster and faster. My clit feels like it's on fire, the whole of my pussy tingling, that heat that starts in my stomach, muscles tightening, that catch of breath just before I cum. Orgasm ripping through my body, every part of me straining towards release, toes curling into the sheets as my body stiffens. My pussy spasming again and again, the wand held tightly in silken grasp. My words hanging in the air, as juices trickle out of my pussy and down over my rosebud ass.

Collapsing back onto the bed, trying to catch my breath, my breasts rapidly rising and falling. Lips parting as I sigh out your name, lashes fluttering as my eyes close. Removing the wand I turn onto my side, knees drawn up, the wand clutched in my hand as I finally drift off to sleep.