Under His Ownership - Love Under Lockdown

Then I pick up the bottle of lube from the stand and settle into the soft fuzzy chair, knees apart. My cock is still hard from being so close to Julia, and I stroke it with my eyes closed.

I see her. I imagine her curvy, naked body in my mind’s eye, and I think about what I’d like to do it. I imagine bending her over and putting my cock into her tight, wet pussy.

I’d play with her clit while I fucked her.

I’d make her scream my name until she came…

But right now, I’m coming, just thinking about her.

That girl really does something different to me. She makes me surrender all thoughts and desire over to her.

I hate that she owns my heart and my mind.

I want to be the who owns her.Chapter Three - JuliaI should learn from this. Preparedness is not only a virtue, but it can also be a universe of disappointment.

The door feels rough underneath my flaccid and clammy fingers as I push it. Its weight is light and feathery, and I stamp my foot into the fluffy doormat with the misshapen black and creamy cat design on it.

The wood clicks and I chink the key in, locking myself, and my disappointment, indefinitely indoors.

Maybe not indefinitely.

Today was supposed to be the day it all met in the middle.

Literally.

After so many years of dreaming about being with him, I really thought he make take me.

Henry was supposed to grab me by my hips and pull me in and kiss me and fuck me.

That was his moment to shine, to own me like a rag doll and squeeze my body like he would his mortal enemy. Fuck chivalry. And fuck me for needing to leave, to worry about finances and an uneasy feeling I had about someone being at my house. I needed to go check it out, but it was a very inconvenient time.

Especially because my gray panties are soaked in the middle.

Thighs spread, I lean back on the wooden cabinets at my house and rake the still sopping damp panties between my legs. Oh, it feels nice. The pure contrast between hot and cold, my fingers and the floor between my toes, jerks me backwards, and I stare at the rough-coated ceiling for a brief moment, and then shut them.

Exhale. Inhale. Hold.

I see darkness. I see red and blue lines mirrored in the vast black sea. I taste orange on my thin dry lips, and swallow a gust of shallow air.

I shudder at the grasp of finger and lip and finger. I feel it. The gush of wetness melting down my inner thigh.

Probing, I lift the hood and gyrate my thumb. Ah. It feels good, exceptional. I pinch the lip with a shy nail and let it fall. Pleasure.

Dry air surrounds me. I swallow it once again and pull my clit aside, shoving a knuckle’s worth of my finger into my pussy hole, wishing that it could be Henry doing it to me instead. Oh God. It’s warm, slippery. I smile.

A noisy echo bounces off inside my head. A faint image blurs into solidity. Thin face. Slanted eyes. Thick, strong nose with an ignorant bump at the far edge, ending in a swift curve at the tip. Soft nostrils. Wide. Narrow. Two strong muscle humps on either side of his neck.

The sweet smell of anxiety brimming through his exotic cologne. Veins down his strong, muscular arms. Molecules of sweat running down his thick, black, smooth and wild hair.

My fingers between these cold strands and warm scalp. My finger tracing down his clavicle, down the crevice between his chiseled breasts, down his small, cute navel, down his neat pubes, down his veined shaft, down into me.

In my mind, his cock beats like his heart. The tip throbs. The end of it plays with and kisses my clit. I sigh. I gasp on entry, inhaling slowly and surely. His lips and my own share a hello, and we both fall into a sea of forgotten memories.

In my fantasy, he thrusts. I thrust back. My thighs. They clench. They sing. They burn. They struggle to breathe.

My clit, my fingers, my fuzzy mind, the darkness behind my eyes, the high-pitched frequency behind my ears, all meet at the same time and pull me apart, nearly in half.

‘Gooooood, oh Gooood.’ I exhale, inhale, hold my breath.

I lose the world for a moment in eternity and scream until there is no more of it. An orgasm wipes my mind and flips a new page over. The back of my knees click on the floor. Ass and cunt fire up and make me kneel.

My arm tires. My fingers run loose. They rub. They pump. They do not stop. I breathe and hold my breath again. The powerful climax relaxes and grips me once more. Its origins are from my womb and as high up as my aching nipples.