Longing for Touch

I usually feel the loneliest and neediest in the early morning hours. As I lie here with my hand between my legs, gently rubbing my wet, aching pussy, my mind wanders back to when I first got married.

I married my husband at age 21, almost 30 years ago, and that's when I "went all the way" for the first time. I loved it, and I adored having sex with him! We used the same sex position each time -- me on top -- but what we lacked in variety we made up with frequency and intensity. Plus I almost always orgasmed while on top, especially if he also played with my nipples, so I felt content.

At that point I had such a strong libido that even with good sex at home, I would also often masturbate between classes in a little room off the library at the Christian college I attended. I would lay down on the couch on my stomach, put my hand between my legs, and move my body back and forth, rubbing my clit hard against my hand, until I found blessed release and relief in a pulsing orgasm.

Press fast forward to find that as the years went by the sexual passion between my husband and me diminished. His long work hours and health issues, as well as the general busyness of family life with kids, led to sex going by the wayside. It occurred less and less, still with no variety or creativity, until over six years ago sex between us became non-existent.

Not only do we not have sex anymore, we sleep alone in own bedrooms. Having separate rooms works out best for us, at least pragmatically, because my husband works nights and has insomnia. But at this point we hardly even touch each other, and the extreme lack of physical intimacy has left my body ravenous for touch.

Since being introduced to BDSM a little less than a year ago by a Dom I hesitantly (at first), started chatting with online, I've grown to ache with desire to be touched all over, inside and out, with such passion and intensity that I crave all the filthiness and pain and pleasure a good Dom can give me.

Thus far I've only experienced this pleasure online, through texts, emails, and incredibly erotic audios and videos from wonderfully strong, confident men who I've grown to love, each as the amazing, unique men they are. They have left beautiful, indelible marks on my life and soul.

Lacking sex in real life, masturbating, both while alone and sexting, has become a lifeline, and though I will turn 51 soon, in the past year my desire to pleasure myself to orgasm has returned to what I experienced in my early 20s at college. But masturbation and orgasming have grown more beautiful through the training and care of my precious Doms.

I especially crave the connection sexting brings, and it helps me feel less lonely, so I prefer writing someone to being alone. But when everyone else is busy or asleep, I enjoy touching myself and imagining being with one of them, and that's what I'm doing right now.

It's early morning, and I'm alone, not only physically alone, but no Doms are chatting with me online. I'm feeling horny, in need of love and release, so I'm choosing to pleasure myself.

This morning my mind and heart and body have wandered to thinking about a Dom who lives near me. Though we have never met, it brings me peace and and makes me feel safe knowing he is not far away. We play only sometimes, but when we do, it's so beautiful my heart aches. He's much taller and bigger than I am and calls me "little one." I feel such comfort in both his strength and tenderness, and, yes, in his animalistic desire to control me and fuck me hard and deep and fill me with his glorious seed.

As I lie here in bed thinking of my sweet Dom, I feel aroused, and I start talking to him in my mind, as if in a dream, sharing my experience with him as I imagine us together. . .

I feel the sheets brush softly against my bare skin. Being naked in bed feels decadent to me, and I love how it gives me access to touch my body freely. Yet the temperature outside has dropped to freezing, and my room feels cold, so I burrow my head under the covers on my bed. Trapped beneath the folds of my satin quilt, the intense scent of my arousal for you fills the stagnant, warm, moist air. I close my mouth and breath in a long, deep breath through my nose, savoring the sweet, delicate, delicious smell.

I spread my legs, reaching my hand down between my thighs to gently touch my slit, unsurprised to feel dampness clinging to my pussy lips. I slide my middle finger into my slippery, wet pussy, deep inside, pausing to rub against my g spot, then gliding my finger back out and along my labia up to my clit, which feels hard and sensitive beneath my finger's touch.

I briefly bring my finger to my mouth, inserting it slowly and sucking off my delicious pussy juice. Then I return my finger to inside my cunt, adding two, then three fingers. A high pitched, hungry moan escapes my mouth.

God, I'm horny this morning. My mouth waters as the image of your gorgeous cock flashes in my mind. I start picturing you pleasuring yourself, the long fingers of your large hand holding your shaft tightly, moving up and down, slowly. . . deliberately. My back arches, my hips pressing upward, as if reaching towards your cock.

I moan as I imagine you kneeling between my legs, leaning over me as I Iie on my back. You cover my petite body easily. You make me feel so safe, so protected, so cared for. I look up at you, and your intense, amazing eyes look into mine, searching and reaching deep inside me. I could swim and get lost in your gorgeous eyes forever.

Reaching eagerly for my dildo, a seven-inch, skin-colored silicone cock, I gently rub oil on it. Then I lower it down to my pussy, and as I slide it inside, I imagine it's you sliding inside me. But your cock is bigger, longer, thicker. I know you would fill me more completely than my dildo, which pales in comparison.

But for now my dildo will have to do, and I push it deeper inside my vagina. I moan loudly as I guide it in and out, squeezing the walls of my pussy, imagining tightly embracing your cock. I thrust my hips towards my dildo as I push it harder and faster.

I slide my dildo out of my vagina and run the head along my labia, up to my clitoris, rubbing the head against it hard. Then I slap the dildo against my clit, again and again.

I've been rubbing and squeezing my right nipple with my other hand, but now I pinch it hard as I slap my pussy. Oh, god, it feels intense and good.

I rub the dildo against my clit again, but faster this time. I'm about to cum -- I'm so close! But I stop. I remove the dildo from my clit and will myself to relax my vaginal wall and core muscles, enjoying the delicious feeling inside me. Mmmm.

Then I start masturbating again, re-entering the climb to the top. As I rub my clit I whimper and moan quietly. I feel my pussy gush with warm fluid squirting out of it. Ahhh. . . And this time I let myself reach the top and break the crest, and my body pulses, rythymically, intensely, over and over as the pleasure of cumming while thinking of you permeates my body.

Mmmm. . . thank you, Sir, for bringing me pleasure. I want to bring you pleasure. I want you to use me to fulfill your needs and desires. Mmmm I'm feeling relaxed and sleepy. I love you, you gorgeous man.

As I lay in my bed, no longer feeling the cold, now covered in sweat and pussy juice, I sigh heavily, with both relief and longing. My body feels satisfied, for the most part, but my longing for sex in real life still throbs within me. I wonder if some day I will get to have that pleasure again and with whom. Until then I will just keep fantasizing and dreaming, knowing my longing to be touched and filled will keep growing.

Masturbation, or "fucking myself," as I sometimes think of it, is a beautiful thing. Yet I can't deny that my body and heart hunger for tangible fulfillment of my desires, and the pain and pleasure to be found in being spanked and flogged, held down, penetrated, and fucked hard, fast, and deep. . . oh, how that reality would be heaven to me.