Cherie in the Kitchen

(Note: This story follows from my earlier one, "Cherie's new toy," which was well received by those of you kind enough to vote. As long as the votes keep telling me people enjoy Cherie's games, she'll keep having them. The stories are self-contained, but anyone who enjoys this one might enjoy its predecessor.)

Nearly two weeks had passed since Cherie, frustrated housewife and all-around nice girl , had obtained a vibrator. From the moment it had arrived she had been entranced. Early hesitations overcome, she had begun experiencing the most wild moments of her life. And boy, they had kept coming. So, for that matter, had she. Nowadays she could hardly wait for the moment each morning when Steven walked out the door, so that she could fly towards the bedroom, shedding clothes along the way, for a blissful hour's pleasure with her new toy.

Previously, she had managed an orgasm every few weeks. More on the odd occasions when she could convince Steven to eat her. She had considered herself - well, not exactly satisfied, but not deprived either. Now, however, thanks to her wonderful vibe, she was coming four or five times a day - at least two big ones, and a couple of smaller ones. Shit, she thought, two weeks ago she hadn't even known they came in different sizes!

Moreover, during those times when she wasn't actually lying on the bed fucking herself, she found that she could think of nothing but fake cock. It was obsessive - she couldn't enter a room without her eyes casting around for anything remotely phallic in shape, anything which might, given the right circumstances, fill her pussy and make her cum. Her last visit to the grocery store had been a wild mental experience - so many possibilities! Everything from the zucchinis to the bakery assistant was laden with possibilities. She had emerged from the store with sopping wet panties and a sexual itch which she went straight home to satisfy.

Today, she had seen Steven off to work and retired for her morning orgasm. She lay halfway down the bed, legs splayed wide, her feet resting up on the bedrails, gripping them grimly with her red-painted toes. Her left hand was driving the vibe in and out of her cunt with smooth, practiced strokes, down slightly then in, with a slight twist of the wrist on the way in, and again on the way out. She kept the rhythm up, driving herself slightly crazy with lust, but she knew that so long as she did not increase her tempo, she would not cum - rather, she would hang blissfully on the edge of her orgasm for as long as she could handle, before falling over the edge into a whirlpool of sensation.

Her knees flexed in time with her thrusts, pushing her hips up slightly against her fingers, tensing her abdominals muscles each time, bringing groans of effort which soon mixed with her moans of pleasure. Now she flicked the vibrator on, ever so gently, just enough to add tiny little sparks of pleasure to the wave of excitement she was building. Imperceptibly, her tempo began to increase, as her right hand traced its way up over those straining abdominal muscles to her breasts, tracing wide circles around her left breast, circles ever decreasing, spiralling inwards until her fingernail was teasing the crinkled edges of her areola. Her nipple ached to be touched, caressed, pinched, but she was becoming an expert at denying herself now, and her fingers flicked away to trace the same circles around her right breast.

This time, as her finger closed in on her areola, she increased the speed of her humping, and the speed of her thrusts deep into herself, so that by the time her fingernail ran teasingly over the deep red, crinkled flesh, she was beyond the point of no return, falling, sliding happily into her orgasm. Her fingers suddenly pinched her right nipple hard, twisting slightly, as her left hand made one final thrust into her, and then she was gone, screaming as her orgasm tossed her around the bed, her hand still a blur, refusing to stop the vibrator's motion deep inside her, no matter how she twisted and writhed. Finally, head throbbing, nipple throbbing, pussy beyond merely wet, she collapsed in a heap, shaking occasionally as the aftershocks ran through her.

It took a good little while for her to come back to the real world, and she was still tingling all over as she finally stood, tottering over to the ensuite to shower. The hot needles of water brought a pleasure of their own, but she did not remain in the shower long. Once dry, she decided not to bother with clothes. She wasn't expecting anyone to visit, and they would just get in the way ... later.

Hungry, she walked to the kitchen and dropped a slice of bread in the toaster. Waiting for it to toast, she found herself casting around the room, as always appraising every object she saw in terms of its potential as a fucktoy.

Suddenly she laughed. "Ten minutes ago I came so hard I couldn't stand up," she thought, "and here I am eyeing off the kitchen utentils. What a slut."

Her mind didn't stop ticking over, though, so she began to busy herself loading the dishwasher. Her toast popped up, and when she had begun the dishwasher's cycle, she spread some jam on it and leaned back against the counter to eat it. That was her intention, anyway. As it happened, though, she found herself leaning against the dishwasher, its firm vibrations amplifying through her full ass, bringing an unexpected, but unmistakable itch to her clit. Thrum-thrum-thrum whent the dishwasher, and thrum-thrum-thrum echoed her clit, still sensitive from her earlier orgasm, but definitely interested in more.

So she was a slut, she thought. What the fuck. She leaned against the dishwasher more firmly, then less so, finding just the right spot for just the right vibrations. Her eyes continued to cast around for something phallic, though with a start Cherie realised that this time she wasn't just speculating. This time, she was actually going to do it.

She began by grabbing a stirring-spoon, with a handle three-quarters of an inch thick. It wasn't very big - even Steven would put it to shame - but it was within reach, and didn't require her to miss a moment of the dishwasher's vibrations. She spread her legs almost comically, as though she was riding a horse, and leaned forward slightly to work the cool metal handle into her cunt. Oh, yes. She began working it in and out slowly, feeling the vibrations from the dishwasher flow through her, then echo off the handle and back again, creating little waves of excitement. She was miles from orgasm yet, but this was a hell of a start.

She continued working the spoon in and out, slowly, knees quivering a little at the work she was doing and the sensations she was feeling. Eventually, though, she realised her knees were going to give way. Inspiration struck, and she tossed the spoon into the sink with a loud clatter, and stepped over to the freezer, missing the vibrations of the dishwasher but promising herself it was only for a moment.

Inside the freezer she found a tray of ice cubes, which she pulled out. She removed two of them, and placed them in a glass which she set beside teh dishwasher. Finally, she hoisted herself up and sat upon the dishwasher. Perfect. The vibrations of the dishwasher flowed right through her ass and thighs into her body, lighting her up again exactly as it had done a few moments ago. This time, though, she could lean back against the wall and comfortably spread her legs wide.

She reached over and took one of the ice cubes. Taking a deep breath, she touched it to her nipple, squealing slightly at the intense cold and the instant reaction of her nipple, which transmitted pure sensation through her, so intense she couldn't tell if it was pain of pleasure. Oh, this was too much! She grabbed the other ice cube, and each hand began to tease a nipple, stroking the ice cube gently over the very tip of the nipple, making small circles over her areolae. Each touch made her shiver with cold, with pleasure, and all the while the dishwasher happily continued vibrating her lower half.

Cherie decided to see what effect the cold would have on her pussy. At first, she simply planned to insert the ice cubes and see what happened, but as she reached down, inspiration hit. In the refrigerator lay a carrot she had bought yesterday, a thick, slightly gnarled carrot she had bought simply because its girth, length and potential for fun eclipsed both her husband and her vibrator. She jumped momentarily off the dishwasher to retrieve the carrot, and looked it over. It was every bit as big as she had remembered, and thanks to its refrigeration it was beautifully cold. She reached down, leaned back slightly to open up access to her slippery cunt, and touched the carrot to her lips.

The cold made her jump slightly, but she bit her lip a little and bravely continued, slowly but surely sliding it in. It was freezing cold, and was by far the biggest thing she'd ever had down there. Every bump and crevasse on the carrot reflected a thousand vibrations from the dishwasher below and, by the time she had it fully inside her she was moaning and sweating despite the carrot's cold which seemed to seep deep inside her.

Without warning, a small orgasm tore through her, hunching her over, squeaking in surprise and delight. She let go of the carrot momentarily, slumping against the wall, still captive to the vibrations of the dishwasher. Her breath came in short, shallow gasps, and it was some time before she was lucid enough to grasp the carrot and continue her efforts. In and out, slow then faster then faster still, twisting in, twisting out, grinding the carrot inside her cunt, her muscles pressing against the uneven surface of the carrot.

Deep within her pussy, she felt her muscles begin to tighten against the carrot cock. More muscles came into play, rippling against it. The short spasms spread, to her thighs, her legs, her abdominal muscles. Her toes began curling back, then her feet curled at the ankle. Stronger and stronger came the sensations, unevenly building, throwing her muscles, her senses, into chaos. Her breathing came in fits and starts. She found herself holding her breath until she saw stars, and suddenly breaking into a series of gasping breaths before holding her breath again. Her temple was throbbing with her pulse; her nipples were simply throbbing. Throwing her head back, she emitted a loud, guttural, wild woman's bellow, half scream and half squeal, surely loud enough to bring the neighbours running.

So close, so close. She was on the edge of an orgasm, not teetering this time, but held there bodily by forces she couldn't control. She began pinching and pulling at her nipples, at her clit, trying in vain to force herself over the edge. Suddenly there came a loud metallic click. The dishwasher, finishing its cycle, came to a halt with an unbalanced shudder. The sudden absence of this stimulus had an amazing effect, throwing her off the edge of her orgasmic cliff. She was spinning, falling through an orgasmic haze, blissfully unaware of anything but the sensations flowing through her.

Eventually she drifted back into the real world, and saw herself, lying on the kitchen floor, carrot beside her where it had fallen from her pussy. One thing was for sure - the Kitchen was never going to seem the same again.