One's Enough

It was a wet weekend in Bangor. The cold grey sky merged into the cold grey sea and on their trip to the beach it was impossible to tell if the kids were soaked with rainwater, seawater, or tears. She'd bundled them back into the holiday lodge, on the eleventh row and fourth column of the military style park, showered them warm and dressed them back in half-respectable outfits. They had then run, danced, sung and laughed themselves exhausted and finally been snuggled into bed fifteen minutes ago. She had regretted deciding she was up for taking them on her own for a long weekend almost as soon as they started the drive, but had changed her mind as they dozed deeply in the twin room.

She retired to the lounge space, opened a bottle of rose, and flicked on another episode of The L Word. The original. Two large glasses down, and Shane was making love to yet another beautiful woman with long flowing hair, and she was really wanting some human touch. Well... she was a human... and she was good at touch...

One last look into the twin room, two large mouthfuls to finish the third glass, and four minutes later she was naked bar a T-shirt declaring she 'Heart New Orleans'. She glanced at her neatly trimmed pussy over a flat belly, taut thighs spread wide, feet pressed together. Her outer lips were swollen, fattening with want as he fingers traced up and down her thighs. She teased them lightly, knowing she wouldn't yet touch but daring herself to dip. She let her index finger glide down from the top, disappear from view, and felt the peak and decline, ending at the tense and damp gap of incredibly sensitive skin between cunt and arse. She pressed down, and gasped as both sides clenched and sparked.

Now an even naughtier thought assaulted her. What if she took a video, sent it to her lover? He had greatly enjoyed her pictures. His explosion across his own belly had been as big as she'd seen from him after she sent him a picture of her pants dragged aside, three-fingers knuckle deep within. He'd posted back a picture of his cock on high alert after she'd sent an image of her soapy butt in a shower. Live action might be the death of him... but he'd die happy.

She scrabbled for her phone, and holding in her left hand, started to film. Just the thought of it had forced her inner lips to scream in agony at the way they were being restrained. She returned to light touching, but couldn't hold back. He fingertips slid between, and then inside. The air, touch and relief shuddered through her. She drove in hard with two fingers; she needed that filling so badly. She pumped herself, a half dozen fast thrusts that had her gasping. Her pearl yearned for attention, and a strumming with the same dripping instruments. She nearly came there and then, but held back. Her hand disappeared from view, but her wrist allowed the viewer to realise she was back inside, wet, wanton noises from mouth and maw caught for eternity.

She had the widest of wide-ons, and spread her legs wider still to admit three of her delicate fingers, but that was not enough. A flat packed four punished her pearl, then sank themselves like a tiny shovel within. She banged hard, thumb clattering clit as she urged herself on. The sloshing was louder and louder as she yelped with the intensity off it. She withdrew and pressed, flicked madly circled her full and flaming nub, then pounded hard as she came, spurting and showering her hand, belly and thighs with the florid, fluid honey she squirted out. Panting hard, she salved her heat with slowing, cooling touches.

She returned to some state of normality, and on placing the camera down, remembered about the kids. Hastily dragging the T-shirt down she popped out, then returned to the room. They were even more deeply asleep.

She got back into bed, and shuffled to one side, away from the damp patch she'd made on her own. She rolled on one side, and turning the volume low, watched back. Damn! This was hotter than any porn she's watched in years. She sent it off with just a smiling devil emoji and then watched again, while flicking her bean hard and bringing on a further, smaller, orgasm a few moments before her video flood hit the screen. Exhausted, she saw a stream of wordless appreciation, and a lone throbbing heart, before she slept.

---

AUTHORS NOTE: This was inspired by Sapho's Fragment 8

"The moon is set. And the Pleiades.

It's the middle of the night.

The hours pass.

But I sleep alone."