Pierced Pt. 01

One was an exchange student, with whom she'd spent a few short, hot weeks with her junior year before he had to return to France. He worshiped her vagina, showing, not telling, her how much he loved it, teasing her with his tongue.

Slapping her ass, pulling her hair, hungrily sucking on her slit like he could never get enough. She didn't speak much French. He didn't speak much English. They let their bodies act as interpreters, and they got along fine.

The other was an awkward senior she'd met her freshman year. Her first fuck. He treated her roughly, though passionately. But he graduated and moved for a job shortly there after. She didn't think he cared much about her until he sent her a bunch of drunken messages before she married Greg. Strange how people want what they can't have.

When she met her husband, she learned to be content with snuggles and the occasional make out session. And she was ok with it.

While Greg didn't make her shiver the way her first lovers did, he also never forgot a promise, always showed up on time, and made and effort to listen to her needs.

But he never looked at her pussy the way her other lovers did. Not like this. Not like how she was looking at it now.

It was wet, red, glistening. She could feel the heat come off it, and she swore the steam in the room wasn't just coming from the shower.

She looked at her cunt again, swiped the mirror to get a better view, since it was steaming up. The beads of moisture on the glass shined and caught her eye. And suddenly, that thought over took her again.

Kirsten reached over to her jewelry box and pulled out a small silver hoop that Greg had given her for their one year anniversary. She'd long since lost its mate, but held onto it for sentimental reasons.

She bit her lip, and before she could change her mind, bent back the posted part she'd usually thread through her ear. Back and forth, back and forth, faster and faster until the post snapped off and all she was left with was a tiny silver "c".

C for clit, she smiled to herself and slowly moved the jewelry down to her flesh, gave it a tiny pinch, swooned at the feeling, and looked in the mirror.

Kirsten couldn't remember when she'd felt this sexy. No make up. No embellishments. Just completely natural. Sitting on the counter, the tiny rolls of her flesh collecting steam and sweat.

She could see the ripple of muscle beneath. Her thighs were round and strong, and her curved belly was still flushed red from when she came.

She traced her nipples with the back of her finger, feeling the nail bite ever so slightly into her skin. Her flesh puckered against this teasing, nipples reacting by pulling in and up, rising to attention.

She cupped each full breast, pinching between thumb and forefinger before slowly trailing her way down her body, to the place where her lips split, and her pseudo-pierced clit waited.

Kirsten flicked the ring and felt the way it moved against her clit. She bit her lip, and began to work herself back up. She knew it wasn't going to take long. Watching herself in the mirror, she saw the metal flash against her fingers, could feel the sides of it bite into her.

She pushed her back into the mirror, tilted her hips up so she could stroke the inside of her pussy, feel the walls clench against her.

Her back arched, and she closed her eyes. Kirsten could feel her face flush, red, like it did when she ran. Her hips were rocking back and forth and she was fucking her fingers, using them like a dick, like one of her runner friends.

They flashed through her mind. Tattooed man, cop, Varsity captain. Each one eager to take a turn at her willing, wet pussy. Each one begging her to suck and pull at that bit of metal, that shiny ring, that hard loop that ran through her most intimate and sensitive of spots.

"Please, Kirsten, let us make you cum." They begged. "Please, Kiki. Cum for us."

Kirsten pushed her hand to one side, knocking over the jewelry box and bath soap, spilling the tooth brushes and q-tips on the floor.

Fuck, off! she told these ghosts of men, told her French flame and freshman lover, told Greg, even, to leave, pushing them away and out of her mind.

I don't need you, she told them, told herself, curling her fingers up, tucking them around the egg of her gspot, twisting and twirling her fingers inside her, pounding her pussy with her own hand, to her own rhythm, making herself hum with the thrum of playing herself, playing her own instrument.

No, she thought, arching her back and wriggling her hips, feeling the first wave of orgasm come up,

"I don't need anyone," she said, out loud.

I can make myself cum, and she gasped, hips coming up off the counter, feet bracing her against the drawers of the vanity, fucking her own hand, she rode each wave, cumming again and again, until she collapsed back down to the counter top. Spent.

She spent a few minutes there. In the steamy bathroom. Mirrors had completed hazed over at this point. So much for the anti-fogging properties the mirror cleansers she used claimed, Kirsten, thought. But she was glad they held out long enough for her to catch a glimpse of her homemade jewelry.

Smiling at the image of her "pierced" clit and how much it turned her on, Kirsten told herself she needed to thank her step-niece for planting that bug in her ear. And then she panicked. "Shit!" Kirsten whispered.

Moving her hand down to her pussy, she felt for the broken earring. It must have fallen off in the frenzy, she thought. Kirsten jumped up from the counter and frantically began searching for the silver c. It wasn't on the floor, or on the counter top, and Kirsten was starting to freak.

"Oh god." She thought, "what if it's in me?" And began to reach her fingers into herself to see if she could locate it when she heard a knock on the door.

"Kirsten?" She heard Greg call from the other side, "Are you in the shower?" And the door started to open.

"Uh, no just a minu" Kirsten tried to rush to shut the door as Greg was opening it. "I got halfway to my mom's house when I realized I forgot the children's aspirin and..." Greg surveyed the scene. "What the hell happened?"

Kirsten looked behind her to see jewelry and q-tips and everything everywhere.

"Are you ok?" Greg asked.

"Yeah! Yeah, I was just, uh, stretching from after my run and I slipped because of the steam and spilled stuff everywhere."

"Oh." Greg said, moving past her to pick stuff up and put it back. "Maybe...maybe stretch in the living room next time."

"Yeah," Kirsten, said, blushing.

"Did you have a good run?" Greg asked.

"Yes, six miles."

"Good job." Greg said, standing. He'd returned everything to the spot it was supposed to be in. "Good job." He said again, but whether he said this to him or to her, Kirsten wasn't sure.

"Well, Georgie's in the car. Just wanted to get this." Greg indicated, shaking the bottle in front of her. And then he stopped.

"You...you look." Kirsten held her breath.

"You look good, dear." He said.

And leaned in to kiss his wife. She felt a rush. Her standing naked, him, fully clothed, cold from being outside. Her hot body pushed up against the frigid buttons on his jacket and she shuddered.

He had been moving his hand down the small of her back to the round curve of her ass when she did.

"Oh!" he said, and pulled away. "Sorry, did I hurt you?"

"No," Kirsten responded. "No, not at all," and leaned in again to kiss him.

"Well, like I said." Greg said, backing away, "Georgie's in the car so..."

"Oh, right." Kirsten said. "You better go."

"Yup." Greg said, leaving.

"Oh and uh...this," he held up the small broken earring.

"Was um...stuck to your butt."

"Oh my god." Kirsten said, laughing. "I don't know how that happened!"

"Stretch in the living room, Kirsten." Greg said as he left the room.

"I'll call when I get to mother's."

"Ok!" Kirsten called out behind him, climbing into the shower, completely mortified.

As the rivulets of water washed away the smell of sex and sweat, she couldn't help but think about how hot she looked with that metal ring wrapped around her clit.

And then she thought about how panicked she got at the thought that the ring had slipped inside of her.

"Well, kid." She told herself. "No time like the present."

Kirsten turned off the water. Grabbed a towel. Got dressed. And looked up local piercing places to visit, that afternoon, before Greg could surprise her again.