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Thank God it’s Saturday. Everyone loves a Friday, for sure. Last day of work, drinking and partying at the end of a long, hard week, preparing for a relaxing weekend. Yeah there are plenty of good reasons to like Fridays. But me, personally, I like my Saturdays.
Is it because there are no lectures on a Saturday?
Is it because I get to lay in for a very long time?
Hmmmmm, nop-well, actually that is pretty great. I do love a lay in. But more than that, the reason I love Saturdays, is that I have the flat to myself. All to myself.
Sharing a flat for university can be tricky. Living with five other people can be difficult, especially if you’re a person that needs their own space. But I do enjoy being around people. It is nice having friends ready to go out drinking and dancing or stay in, cook, and watch movies. I enjoy that. But I also enjoy not having any them around for most of the day. Especially as my guitar isn’t the only thing in my room that can make a lot of noise.
A neat little coincidence arises on Saturday due to the fact that my entire flat is comprised of sporty, athletic, women who all attend various sporting practice on Saturday. Except for me. I practice my particular sport of choice on another day in the week. This little coincidence leads to me occupying the whole house on my own until the evening, every Saturday. And I love that.
Brace yourself for Hurricane Liberty everyone. It’s gonna get wet, wild, and completely under my accomplice’s control.
I wrapped my dressing gown around my body, clad only in a sleeping t-shirt and underwear. The first step was to brush the kinks out of my hair, eat a hearty breakfast and get a drink. There is absolutely no point in showering in the morning for days like today. If everything went as planned I would need a thorough wash to make myself presentable before my flatmates returned anyway. This morning a lovely breakfast of cereal and yogurt greeted me and as the smooth strawberry-flavoured liquid slipped down my throat my mind began to wander towards today’s activities. This breakfast and last night’s shower and shave of my personal regions left me completely prepared to contact my wonderful accomplice and begin today’s fun. And I had been promised a lot of fun.
Most of this week had featured late nights at the library working on a large project for my university course. Although the memory of my fun at the library was still fresh, for once I was able to keep horny Liberty caged and focus on my work. I’m sure I was only capable of this feat due to the promise of my reward. Today was not an average day of Sunday fun. Today was a day of Sunday bliss after a week of torturous build up and exertion. I needed to relax, and as returned to my room and shrugged off my dressing gown I tapped in my “Good morning” message. I knew that with the transmission of this message I was only moments away from beginning.
“Good morning my little song bird. How have you been?”
I smiled at her caring greeting and replied quickly. Normally we could talk for hours about all the problems of the world and the many overlapping realms that interested us both but today it did not take long for her to move our conversation onto business. Despite bursa escort the freedom of an entire day, we both knew there was no time to waste.
“So, what are we dressed in then darling?”
“Just a t-shirt and knickers for you. Who needs anything more?”
“You certainly don’t need that t-shirt. Take it off darling. That is if you are ready to begin.”
I was indeed. My top was swiftly removed, and my chest was released to the air in my comfortably warm room.
“Done. What’s next?”
“Eager today aren’t we? Hmmm I think we’ll stop there for the moment.”
I stared at the message for a few seconds. Stop? Stop!? Stop with just my top off? With a whole house free to hear my cries of ecstasy as she sent me into waves upon waves of pleasure she wanted to-
“I’m kidding, darling. I can almost hear your frustration from here. As if I would leave you like that. I know you. I can bet you are already flushed just from messaging me. Get in front of the mirror little bird. It’s time to grant those breasts some attention after being cooped up all week inside stuffy shirts and sensible tops. Let’s start with a bit of massaging. Just to get them warmed up.”
I sat on my knees and let my butt rest on my feet while I observed myself in the mirror. Looking at my reflection I began to squeeze and massage my breasts. A feeling of freedom and comfort after a stressful week instantly swept through my body. My breast play was barely sexual but was incredibly relaxing. It was when I gained the order to pinch my nipples every sixty seconds that things really started to get moving.
The pinching of my nipples was certainly an enjoyable and stimulating act perfectly complimenting my companion’s knowledge of the power of my nipples, which sometimes acted as express routes of sexual energy straight to the central station of eroticism between my legs. However – and this I am certain was entirely intentional on my accomplice’s part – it was the timer that really sent me into overdrive. Timing often came into play due to the less-than-instantaneous nature of our messaging and the anticipation as I counted down in my head to my next delightful action would always steadily increase my arousal. The sixty second frequency of my nipple play was no exception as a wetness developed between my legs while I massaged. The eventual pinch was made even more intense as the minute-long bouts of massaging allowed my mind to run through my most recent fantasies.
As I completed the third round of pinching I looked back at my phone.
“So as much as I’m sure you’ve enjoyed your time in front of the mirror we don’t want you getting too comfy. I think we should go get you a drink. Do you have a water bottle? Preferably one you frequently take to the university library to study hard with?”
I knew what she was doing. Trying to make me think back to our library fun. She was trying to get me turned on simply through the memory of that deliciously naught and powerful event.
Knowing is half the battle they say. But the light sigh that escaped my lips before I had a chance to stop it confirmed that I had clearly lost the other half of the battle.
With visions of my time in the library running through my head I stood and replied quickly. Stepping out of my room I knew there was no point bursa escort bayan hiding my exposed breasts and my accomplice was clearly intent on leaving me exposed. It mattered little that my flatmates would not be home for many hours, less so that I had descended the same stairs in only a towel previously. It was the knowledge that I was travelling through a shared flat in only my knickers under directive and as part of a sexual activity that made it all so delectable.
Opening the fridge let loose an unexpectedly cold breeze from the trapped air inside. Instantly the cold air had the effect of making me coo and shiver, whilst also reminding me quite firmly that I was topless and following orders. I retrieved the water filter and my bottle from the cupboard and filled it up with the chilled water. Taking a sip, I instantly felt refreshed and ready to handle whatever my scheming accomplice could throw at me.
I set down the blue plastic bottle on the side and checked my phone.
“Yep. Got my drink. Just what I needed. I’m hoping I’m going to be losing a lot of fluids today ;)” I fired back.
“Oh. You’re not drinking that…” Huh? What did she mean- “…well you can but that bottle is actually the newest addition to your sex toy collection. Or at least it soon will be. I wasn’t thinking back in time my little bird like I know you were. I was looking forward. To every single time you sit down at a lecture, or a seminar, or just to read a book at the library and you feel a little thirsty. Whenever you are focused and reach for a drink you’re going to remember. You’re going to remember that once upon a time you removed your underwear in your kitchen, stood completely naked and traced that cold bottle down from your neck all the way to those sexy little wet lips.”
I shivered. Partly from the cold bottle. Partly from sexual excitement. Mostly from the chill and sexual excitement I knew the bottle was about to bestow on my body.
I couldn’t rip my knickers off fast enough.
I flung them down my legs and instantly went to move my hands to between my legs and to my pussy that was now begging for attention. I managed to hold my hands back with herculean effort.
I picked up the bottle from the counter and threw it up towards my neck. The chilling effect was instant as I nestled the bottle between my neck and shoulder resting slightly on the upper part of my shoulder blade. The cool cylinder lay connected to the top of my chest and as I rolled it around from each side of my neck the cold condensation made me squeal in delight. The newfound erotic thrill I gained from the cold smooth bottle running over my skin was incredibly effective. That impact only increased as I ran the bottle in rings around my breasts. The slight graze of the plastic bottom that wasn’t quite as smooth as the rest of the bottle provided a fantastic layer of sensations.
While I circled my breasts the water droplets of condensation started to run slowly over my body. As they progressed downwards the delightful tracks they made on my skin were etched into my mind as I closed my eyes and focused only on my sensations.
Further down my body, other droplets were beginning to form and escape their boundaries. As the erotic thrills my upper body was experiencing had reached my nervous escort bursa system, my pussy had been eagerly awaiting her turn. She was practically salivating at the mouth as a few drips rode over my lips and preceded in a gravity assisted descent toward my upper thighs.
As desperation overwhelmed me to dive in I forced my eyes open. I needed to check. I needed to ensure that I had her permission. I needed to check that she had nothing else planned before she would let me orgasm. Her perfectly planned build-ups were not something to mess with.
She, as always, was a step ahead of me.
“Go ahead little bird. I know you won’t be able to hold back. Make yourself cum. There will be plenty of time for it today.”
I was unfamiliar with using a bottle to play with myself but I sure as hell knew how to stimulate my pussy. It wasn’t going to take much skill in this state.
I ran the bottle rapidly down between my breasts and over my stomach to moving alongside my lips. Down the left side. Up the right side. Scoot over the top and repeat. Very soon my pussy was surrounded with wetness as my juices combined with the cool condensation of the bottle meeting my burning skin. On the fifth circuit around my burning core I placed the cold side of the bottle against my lips and moved my other hand to push two fingers inside my entrance.
My fingers wormed their way in rapidly and I thrust in and out quickly as I desperately worked my way towards the orgasm waiting only moments away. The wet trail of my bottle down my chest connected all elements of torso to my pussy and the combination of water and juices was beginning to flow quickly down to the height of my knees.
Inspiration struck as these droplets neared this height and I struggled with the fingers clutching the bottle, being forced to remove my wet fingers to assist them. With difficulty and with shaking hands I wrenched the top off the bottle.
I plunged my fingers back into my pussy and they worked to make up for missed time. As I felt my orgasm approaching a powerful mental image filled my mind.
Conceiving such an image almost as an order, my orgasm began to rush through me. A swelling heat coursed through every blood vessel and with the last conscious action I could muster I tipped the bottle towards myself. The cold water hit my clit and ran between my lips as my orgasm exploded within me. The mixing of temperatures on my skin made me breathless and my juices erupted from me and flowed over the cool bottle still clutched to my lips. The torrent of juices and cold water ran down my legs and onto the floor. My hips still bucked at my fingers that had frozen in place and that instinctual action was accompanied by a guttural cry that I allowed to pass from my lips and echo around the empty house.
Breathing heavily, I crumpled to the floor in the puddle I had created. I had returned to the position I had adopted in front of the mirror sitting on the balls of my feet. The difference to that earlier occurrence was that I was currently nude, soaked and sitting on the kitchen floor clutching a water bottle to my pussy.
Replying to my accomplice took several minutes.
Dragging the soaked fingers of my left hand up my body towards my mouth, trailing my juices behind them, my right hand began working my phone once more. With my tongue making sure to collect every delicious drop off my fingers I watched my message send and fly off to greet my wonderful accomplice.
“Well… that was amazing. So, what’s next?”
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Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32