Last night I came in two minutes flat. I’m not exaggerating even a little bit.
I guess I’ve been pent up recently. While I was traveling, I didn’t touch myself at all because I didn’t want my travel buddies to know what I was up to. On the plane back to the city and even on the bus ride back home I didn’t think about it at all, the growing need inside me. But I felt a renewed burst of energy as soon as I placed the key into my front door.
To be kind—to myself—the first thing I did was unpack. Then I tidied up a bit, I can never relax in a messy space because it screws with my head. After everything was clean, I organized my planner (I’m a weirdo, I know) and lit a candle. It was lavender and vanilla.
You’d assume that because I was so tired, I would have slept right away. But I made myself stay up and I forced myself to move slow. First through my panties, then back and forth on my clit. I was wet so fast it surprised me and I figured it was time to take my panties off. I had to fight the urge to stop, call Mickey or Shaun.
But I kept going, around my vulva and finally inside. The wetness and my own warmth surprised me, I guess it really had been awhile since I’ve taken the time and practiced this form of self-care. Before I knew it it was over, and barely any time had passed. I fell asleep soon after.
Now it’s morning and I’m irked to say the feeling hasn’t left yet. The fire lingers and needs to be put out. Maybe it’s time to call Mickey.