A Gif(t) – to Cure GrumpinessbyKingsWoman©
Copyright © 2013 Kings Woman
Making the most of Michael's mini fantasy.
Just a quickie; with a special guest appearance by my pussy ...
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Click Here to listen: .mp3 format or .ogg format. (11 min/mp3)
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On this morning I'm very grumpy.
The workload allocations have finally been sent round and mine is shit. Plus I heard from my family. Oh brother! (Or rather, sister.)
It started out well. I was having a lazy day. Had a shower, washed my hair, dried it and curled it cuz I knew you would come by if you got out of your meeting early enough. I wandered about my apartment in my blue cotton kimono with my freshly washed long hair floating in a dark cloud over my shoulders and down my back.
You didn't come so I went back to bed. I had been thinking too much about you walking in to find me drying my hair. I had been sitting in front of the mirror, legs splayed with the kimono falling like water either side of my naked knees and my bare breasts. I was hoping you'd walk in and be turned on and fuck me. Then we could have lunch and then we could fuck some more ....
I snugged up under the duvet -- the doonah, you call it. (Doonah, do I say it right? Almost certainly not, LOL.) I started fingering my cunt lips, stroking my fine pussy hair. With my other hand, I played with one nipple, turning over some favourite fantasies in my mind.
Then the real pussy, the kitten, leapt on my hand moving under the covers. Get off! She kept jumping on my hand every time I rolled my fingers over my clitoris, my pink pleasure button. Little beast! Shoulda drowned you.
OK, so I manage to catch the kitten and shut her out of the bedroom. I got back into bed, put my finger back on the wet little button, brought to mind some hot gif you emailed me recently. Mmmmm!
Then the phone rang.
God! Jesus, what now. I got out of bed again and padded angrily out to the living-room. "Hello? Yes? No, that person used to have this number. I get lots of calls for her but she is not me. No I was never so thick as to take out Payment Protection Insurance. No I won't tell you my name. No I won't tell you my address! For Chrissake! you bloody idiot .... What's that? I can swear at you and call you names if I want to? I don't want to! Pardon? You're panting. I can't clearly hear what you're saying. No I don't want to meet you for a drink! Goodbye."
Gah! What a nerve. I'm totally distracted now so I get my netbook and take it back to bed. Perhaps if I check out that hot gif you emailed me I can get myself going again.
Then I see the email about the workload allocations. I start to feel really pissed off. While I'm gloomily surveying the workload allocations, I hear the ping of a new email arriving. Maybe it's from you sending more hot gifs? but no, it's from my family. I know it's going to be annoying nonsense before I open it.
So now I'm lying back over the doonah, very grumpy. The kitten has gone off elsewhere to play as there's no hot pussy action here. Not only do I have a shit workload allocation and some nonsense from my family to fret about, I am totally frustrated: horny as Hell but too grumpy to lie back and think of gifs. There is another ping from my netbook, no doubt more dreary details about the infuriating family farrago.
And now, you fucking bastard, you deign to make an appearance. You let yourself in and -- as the bedroom door is wide open -- you're able to look straight down the little hallway at me lying flung out over the bed with my legs spread wide.
You don't rush down the hall to fuck me immediately so you clearly already know about the workload allocations.
"Hey there, honey," you say, eying my spread legs speculatively (my crotch laid bare, the strip of fine hair curling around my pussy). I glare back at you.
"My family emailed," I say.
"Oh." You come down the hall and sit on the bed beside me. You put your hand on my thigh and start rubbing your long fingers up it.
Oh for Chrissake. All I want is a cup of tea and a good moan about it's not fair. But you don't always get what you want.
You lean down and blow softly in my ear. "C'mon baby," you murmur. "You're so sexy in that kimono! I love you with your hair loose. You're up for it, I know you are. Can I finger your clit?" You sniff the scent of green tea in my hair and I remember I washed my hair freshly for you. (My pussy hair too, of course.)
"And I had a stupid phone call from some jerk in a call centre," I grumble.
"Awww, baby," you say. "You're wet, aren't you? Are you wet? Can I get a finger in already?"
Wet? I'm like a Jersey cow down there, creaming gold top. You know it. And I know that if I get Miss-ish, you will just leave me to get over it -- go and ride your bike or fly your kite or have a nice lunch with someone-else. All I want is a cup of tea and some sympathy. But what are girl friends for.
"How about it, honey?" you murmur, your warm breath caressing my ear. You put up one hand and rub the palm over my breast: the soft big pad of flesh, the nipple hardening into a nub of excited nerve endings.
"You know that gif you sent me the other day?" I ask. "Can we do that?"
Now you're grinning and I start to grin back to you. You run your hand down from my breast over my tummy, caress my pussy hair with your long fingers. I arch my back as your hand travels down over me, purring with anticipation. Your fingers briefly explore my cunt. Yah! LOL, I am wet and up for it! 'Course I am. You are here.
You're quick to undress and I see with a snigger that the thought of that gif has already got your dick stiff and up for action. You start fingering my cunt but I'm in a bad mood so I say: "Fuck me! Fuck me!" You laugh and give my thigh a grip with a hard sympathy before going straight to the drawer for a condom.
You come back to kneel before me, your legs bent and splayed flat on the bed. You grip me by the ankles and hold my legs wide. Letting one ankle go, you take your big hard cock and just lay it teasingly against my cunt.
"Fuck me! Fuck me!" I beg.
"Are you sure you're ready for me?" You ask, grinning down at me splayed out below you. "Hey, my honey, are you sure you're wet enough yet?"
"Oh my God! You bastard!" I exclaim. I grab your rigid tool and rub it up and down with my versatile little fingers. "I think you need some help there," I tease in my turn. "Maybe you should think about getting some Viagra."
You gasp indignantly; you are pumping iron in my small rounded fist and I'm laughing but I'm still in too bad a mood and too horny to play about. I rub you on my creamy wet soft cunt. I take the head of your cock inside me.
"Screw my arse off!" I beg.
Ah! you fucking cunt tease! You grip my ankles, spreading my legs, and you fuck into me slo-o-ow. Slow and deep, you plunge your thick long rod into my hot deep hole. I writhe and thrust to you, aaaah! the joy of you sliding in and out, in and out. Mmmmm! you're pushing slo-o-owly all the way in so that I start bucking my hips uncontrollably.
You're getting a firmer faster rhythm going, oh! Goddess! Give it to me. Pump me with that iron tool, the rod of pleasure. As you plunge your cock into me, your fingers grip tight on my ankles, I am panting and moaning, thrusting to your rhythm.
I'm cumming, cumming, writhing and bucking. My face screws up in ecstasy, I see the pleasure on your lean face. My cunt muscles grip on your big cock deep inside me and then you gasp and cry out yourself, I feel you pump me quick and hard to squeeze out your cock.
You let go my ankles and fall to lie in my arms. We lie panting and laughing over the doonah. You caress a strand of freshly washed hair away from my laughing face.
After a while, you say: "Jacques said he would look at your workload allocation with you."
"OK yah," I say lazily. "I'll figure it out."
"Sorry your family are being a pain," you say.
"Fuck them," I say. "Or rather; fuck me! Shall we have some lunch?"
"Oh yeah, sure," you say, lazily caressing my hip. "I'll do a salad."
"Yah, I have some tuna steaks," I say.
"Did you see that new gif I sent you just now?" you inquire, your fingers walking over my quivering thigh to my wet warm pussy.