Alone with Myself

Perching on the hotel bed, I listened to the bathwater I’d been pickling in for the last hour gurgle down the plughole. Damp air drifted in through the open bathroom door, carrying the scents of lemongrass and sandalwood with it. It lent a little warmth to the empty room, helped along by the votive candles that burned merrily on the bedside table.

My legs straightened, feet pointing, toes curling under. My back arched, the stretch that rolled through me making me purr like a content kitten. It had been so long since I’d last done this. Alone time had become far too rare, recently. My work at the club took up almost all of my time and, though I loved what I did more than anything, today was the first step in taking some of that time back.

The metal box I’d set on the bedside table glinted in the candlelight. Shifting closer, I trailed my fingers over it, feeling my cock start to swell as I thought of what lay inside. Should I make myself wait? Prolong the agony I knew would come if I sat here without letting myself see?

No, I didn’t want to wait. There’d be plenty time for edging later. I’d stroke, caress and love myself all night long, but now? Right now, I wanted it hard and fast and rough.

The hinge on the box squeaked quietly when I flipped the lid. Even though all I could see lying on the red velvet lining was a white rectangle of stacked paper, the sense of urgent arousal pulsed within me.

Scooping up the stack, I started to rearrange the paper in my hands. Photographs aren’t easy to shuffle, but I made sure I’d given them a good shake up before fanning them out on the bed. I studied them, trying to guess which ones were my favourites. But not an overturned corner or fingerprint was to be seen.

My index finger tapped the back of each photo, all of which had been taken during a beach holiday. My gut would tell me when to choose and, sure enough, I was drawn to the third picture from the end of the fan. I separated it from the others, keeping it face down on the bed. The anticipation of not knowing what I’d see when I turned it over was delicious.

Once the other photos were back in their box, I settled against the pillows. Before I let myself look at the picture, I made sure I was ready. Cock coated in silicone lube, steel butt plug at hand for if I needed it, keeping my back to the bedside table so that the candles behind me would illuminate the picture, letting me see it in its full glory.

I began to stroke. Slowly, just for a few seconds. My cock was so hard, but not nearly as hard as it was going to be. As soon as I had a good rhythm going, I flipped the picture over.

Yes!

There, right in front of me, was my most favourite pair of tits in the world. Curvy, perky, with prominent nipples that would likely feel delightful in the mouth. God, my cock leaked just at the sight of them. I knew how it felt to pinch them, to roll them in my fingers until they were sore.

I knew the body they were attached to like the back of my hand. Bronzed skin, smooth and hairless, and oh so soft to the touch. I loved running my fingers over is, feeling it’s softness. Smelling the fresh scents that floated off it in warm waves whenever it had been in the shower. No matter how used to this body I was, it still got me granite hard every fucking time I looked at it.

I didn’t realise I was stroking my cock so hard until my fist slammed into my balls. It hurt, but that didn’t matter. All I could think of was my goal. Every part of me had become obsessed with the thought of covering those miraculous tits in thick, creamy cum.

“Oh fuck,” I grunted, listening to the wet founds of furious wanking.

The picture shook in my other hand, slipped from my fingers and landed on the carpet. I didn’t need to retrieve it, though. Didn’t need the sun and sea in the background. All I had to do was look down at my own body to see those tits bouncing around like wild things, stilling when my body stiffened, their nipples tightening just a little more when rivulets of cum skimmed up my belly and over them.

My ass spasmed, my hips jerked, and I lay back with a quiet laugh, rubbing my cum into my own, perfect tits. All bodies were beautiful to me, and I had something to give each and every one that came my way. My cock took asses, mouths and cunts, while my ass and mouth greedily took cocks. But of all the bodies I’d known over the years, my own would always be my favourite.


Week 153

8 thoughts on “Alone with Myself

    1. This story was a revisit with the character I wrote about for the Eroticon anthology. The elements of your picture made me think of her. I hope you enjoyed it.x

    1. Thanks, Kayla 💋 I tried to keep the who as vague as possible while giving clues that the character was talking about her love for her own body. I hope it didn’t end up being too muddled.x

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