Ghost in the Machine

woman in steamy mirror
2 minute read

I miss him so much!  It’s been so long since he went away. I am really horny in his absence.  The time difference makes it difficult to talk, he’s in his hotel room while it’s my working day.  I go to bed at night, alone in the soft cottony space, aware of his absence.

He uses facetime this morning as I’m getting ready for work.  I answer his call sipping tea and nibbling toast.  I smile on seeing his face, eyes lingering on his lips, wishing I could kiss him before pulling them down to my pussy to suck and tease me.

We chat a little about his job, I finish my breakfast, but I must shower to get ready for work.

“Don’t go,” he wheedles, “I can talk while you shower.  Take me into the bathroom.” 

“C’mon then big boy!”  I hustle into the tiled room, turning the water on to warm.  I slip my vest-top off, baring my breasts.  I cup them towards him teasingly.

He groans. “That’s what I’m talking about!”

I giggle and slip my pyjama bottoms off. Knowing he’s watching I stroke and tease the line of hair, already moisture is gathering. 

“Show me,” he urges.  I dip a finger in my folds, holid it up. I’m wet for him.

I step under the steady stream of water.  The warming properties of the shower make me feel loosened up, aroused.  I drizzle shower gel into my palm, massaging suds around my breasts, my labia swell and part.  A deep sigh pushes out of my lungs.

“I wanna be soap suds!”   comes the voice from my phone. 

Soaping around my breasts, I pinch and tug the tips of my nipples making them spear through the garlands of bubbles.  I want more, urgency presses me, I yearn for pain.  This ache is good, echoed in the core of my pelvis;  Hips press forwards as my clit swells.

I grab a wash cloth, rough for exfoliating, and make circular swipes round the nub of nerve endings.  I wake a cluster of pleasure/ pain sensations that make me growl with desire.

“Go baby!” he urges.

The steam swirls round me, the water drums down.  I focus my rub and scrub around my clit, insistent and firmly.  I wince with the intensity of prickling tingles, yet wanting to make my clit angry, make it throb.  

I’ll have constant reminders when my panties chafe the nub, that I rubbed one out as my lover watched.

“Ungh!”  A wordless groan bursts from me.

I thrust my hips, sinking 2 fingers deep inside to feel the clutch and grip of my slippery walls. Throbbing, I tip into an abyss of dark, pleasurable sensation, focused with sightless eyes on taking myself there.

“Go for it!” 

His image is ghostly, barely visible on my phone, fogged with condensation, but he hears my gasps. My absent lover encourages my self pleasure, as relief and pleasure wrap me in their intensity. I smile.

This is submitted for #WickedWednesday week 335 & #FridayFlash  The image is from Pixabay

Woman on typewriter

3 thoughts on “Ghost in the Machine”

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: