Page 11 of Drowned In Silence

I would love to see my come dripping off of her face, but I’m sure she would use that against me at some point. She’s also probably used to it.

I adjust myself once more before heading over to the camcorder. Pressing the stop button, I rewind it back and watch her come again.

She’s going to love this present in the morning.

I rewind the video again, and set it back up on the dresser so she can spot it easily when she wakes up.

Watching

Dynah

Waking up soaked inyour own come is still a new feeling for me. I’ve only had a wet dream like twice, but I don’t know if I like it or not. I rub my legs together, feeling just how drenched I am.

Fuck, I apparently had fun in my sleep last night.

Sitting up, my heart starts racing again. I should start getting used to this feeling if creepy things keep happening. I can see the video recorder on the wooden dresser. It’s directly in front of me, I couldn’t miss it if I was blind.

“What the fuck?”

Getting up, I forget that I was immediately going to get in the shower, because I need to see what's on there first.

Inspecting the recorder before I pick it up, I decide that it’s not attached to anything, and I’m not falling into a trap of any kind. Once I realize that it’s just a normal one, I take it back to the bed and press play.

Oh. My. Fucking. God.

He didn’t! I watch in disgust as the masked mirror man from the other night sneaks into my bed, and starts touching me. This is worse than a sex dream! This is real!

“Why?” I yell into the room. “Why me, dude?”

I can’t help but to keep my eyes on the screen. It may be disgusting, but somehow it’s also hot as shit. The way his tattooed hand carefully touches me, how he allows me to move around on my own, and then his dirty whispers. I can hear them clearly on the video even though I didn’t hear them last night.

“Is my good girl going to come all over my fingers? Pretend that she isn’t soaking wet right now?”

Oh fuck, thats hot.

I turn the video off and sit in silence for a minute.

What’s wrong with me? That shouldn’t have turned me on at all, let aloneagain. I obviously liked it last night, and I am now dripping once more. I toss it to the side, and scoot back against the headboard.

He isn’t here now, thankfully.

Shoving my hand into my shorts, I can feel how wet I am. My fingers run through my slit, gathering what I can. I pull my hand out from the waistband and up to my lips, tasting myself on my fingers.

Ugh. I’m fucked.

I wiggle my shorts off my body, spread my legs, and start working myself to another orgasm. Using one hand to play with my nipples, and the other to rub my clit, I throw my head back. My body is flying high, the tingling all the way to my toes.

I shouldn’t be so horny for a tattooed guy in a mask with a deep voice, especially with what I’ve already been through. But how can I not? He made me orgasm, and then left. I’venever had anyone make my body sing other than myself, so I’m drawn to him like a moth to flame.

I want more. I want to know who is under that fucking mask. I want to know what his cock feels like when he pushes inside of me slowly, letting me adjust to his thickness.

My fingers slide inside of me, pumping to the rhythm of my own thoughts. I forget for a minute that it’s my own hand, imagining that it’s him in front of me. Taunting me with his masked face and his dirty words.

“Oh fuck,” I moan. Just imagining him whisper his filthy words makes me finally come. My legs shake as my heartbeat races as I come down from my high.

I am so screwed. I just fingered myself to a video of a stranger turned stalker, who knows way to much about me, including my name, and I fucking loved it.

Picking up my dirty shorts, I throw them across the room and head to the bathroom. I need to shower before anyone shows up this morning. I hope no one does, even though I need the money… Maybe if they don’t I can just sit in bed all day until my pussy is so sore that I can’t move. Who knows the next time he will visit.

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