tagToys & MasturbationFaithful Companion

Faithful Companion


It took her a few tries to get her key in the lock and open the door to her apartment. It'd been a long shift, and she'd gone out after to unwind. She was a bit tipsy--warm, uninhibited--and more than a bit horny. The guy at the bar who'd been unrelentingly hitting on her had been a hunk, but he was a fucking misogynist asshole. As much as she'd been purposely toying with him just for the gut punch of a last-minute rejection, his attention had still turned her on.

She examined herself in the full-length mirror as she put down her bag. Sexy as always, she thought, and she wasn't wrong. She was an enormously attractive woman. Long blonde hair and bright blue intelligent eyes, with a smile that hinted at mischief playing her lips more often than not. She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it up to pull it back behind her shoulders and appreciated the way the motion of raising her arms lifted her breasts and accentuated her cleavage. Her tits were large and magnificent and the power they gave her was almost worth the unwanted attention and continual underestimation. Almost. Still, she liked them a lot, was very proud of them, and liked to show them off.

One of her usual tools for this, at work anyway, was the simple heroine of the button down. She selected cuts that accentuated her curves and left enough buttons open that her tits would be exposed if it weren't for her under shirt. Instead, the suggestion of exposure combined with the always tight under shirt's cleavage worked wonderfully. Right now, her breasts were framed by a black button down and hugged by a light blue shirt, a low hoop of crew neck showing the curve and cleft of her breasts. She pulled the neck down a bit, showing herself a bit more of her glorious cleavage. Fuck yeah, she thought to herself. Even after a long night and in plain, boring work clothes, still sexy as fuck.

She turned to check out her ass in the tight jeans she was wearing. As she did, she unbuttoned her shirt. She was tired of wearing this damn bra. Her ass passed muster--maybe not quite as exceptional as her breasts, but still a thing of beauty. Full, round, big enough to bury a face and more than shapely enough to draw one in. Still, she was critical. I'll go for a run tomorrow, she thought. Always an admirable goal--fitness is important--but by no means a necessary one for "improving" her figure. Not by a long shot.

She pulled her arms from the sleeves of her button down and tossed it aside, turning to face the mirror once again. She grabbed the bottom hem of her undershirt and pulled it up, revealing her smooth and soft belly, the tightness of the shirt fighting its way past her simple black bra and the treasures it supported, and then stretched her arms above her head to pull the shirt completely off. She was deprived the vision of her upward arms drawing her tits taut and upward, pushed together in the enclosure of the bra, but she would have been pleased to see how lust inducing she looked in the moment. She tossed the shirt aside and shook her hair free of her face, arms going behind her back to undo the clasp of her bra. She brushed the straps from her shoulders and let the bra drop to the floor.

She admired her breasts in the mirror: full, cream colored and tipped with large pink areolas, her nipples already hard. She cupped them in her hands and rolled her nipples with her thumbs and forefingers, moaning slightly at their sensitivity. God, she looked good. She turned away and moved toward her bed, pushing down her jeans on the way so that when she flopped down on her plush mattress she wore only her panties. Her landing was supported by pillows; the ones on her chest jiggled and settled as she got comfortable, back propped up in the corner on a pile of ones made of fabric.

She lay on her back, propped up to a semi-seated position so that she looked down a gentle slope toward her sex, one that abruptly rose and fell with her tits and peaked at her nipples, then continued gradually down to her mound. In her left hand she held a breast, squeezing and teasing, tweaking her nipple to hardness with her index finger. Her right hand rested on her abdomen and slid down to her warm mound and she began to rub herself through blue panties, her hand moving in small circles as she felt her wetness growing, the heat inside her building. She relaxed for a moment, savoring the pleasure she brought herself with the touch of her hands, closing her eyes and moaning softly as her circles teased her clit. Then, suddenly impatient, she quickly rolled to her side and, supported by her elbow, feeling the caress of a breast on her forearm, opened the drawer of her bedside table. From it she grabbed her faithful companion: a translucent blue vibrator, ribbed and studded, the perfect length and thickness, capable both of light vibration and vigorous action. It was well loved.

She rolled back to her pillows and turned the toy on to low, replacing her hand at her mound with its head. It felt like electricity coursing through every inch of her body. She moved the dildo in circles as she had her hand, still over her panties, and then up and down along her slit as her panties grew wet with her lust seeping through and onto her toy. She pushed them aside and eased the head of her companion between the lips of her labia and let out a small, low yelp of pleasure as the vibrations radiated through her pussy. She continued her movements up and down and then pressed the head to her clit, moaning as her pleasure grew. She pulled the toy away from her mound and brought it to her tits, where she used it to play with her nipples, the gentle action making them harder and causing her breasts to vibrate in tune with the toy.

Returning the toy to her sex, she once again teased her clit before slipping the head between her lips and rolling the whole studded shaft along her wetness, turning herself mad with the vibrations and the stimulations of her motion. She reoriented it and slowly pushed the head inside her vagina, stretching her tightness and readying herself for its fullness. She removed it and brought the toy to her mouth, opening up and tasting herself off the head before taking it in and licking it fully. She loved her taste, sweet and lusty, and was turned on still more by memories of tasting herself mingled with the cum of a lover as she took his cock in her mouth and made him shudder with sensitivity after he'd finished fucking her and they'd orgasmed together, him deep inside her.

This image in mind, she turned her companion up to high and returned it to her pussy, pushing it in slowly, relishing every bump, every ridge, every moment, every vibration. Her eyes closed as she moaned with pleasure, savoring the feeling of penetration. Slowly she fucked herself, her left hand abandoning her tit to attend to her mound, slowly rubbing her clit in circles. As she rubbed and fucked herself her moans grew louder as her pleasure grew. Her arms, extending straight down to her sex, pushed her tits together and she watched them jiggle vigorously with the vibrations of the toy and her own lustful movements.

Her climax was pure joy, turning her head at the moment of orgasm to stifle her scream with a pillow out of some deference to her neighbors. She switched off the toy and, absent its vibrations, savored the gentle hum of post-orgasmic pleasure. For a time, she just lay there, basking in herself. Soon, though, she returned her companion to its drawer to await their next rendezvous. She shifted her panties back into place, curled up under her sheets, and drifted off into a warm sleep of contentment.

Why bother with assholes when you have a faithful companion?

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