Page 366 of S is for SEX

Holy. Jesus. Fuck yes.

In. out. In. Out. In and out in and out in and out in and out in and out in and out in…. godfuckingdamnthisfeelsgoodasfuckkkkk.

Two.

I opened my eyes again. My poor deprived clit. This was awful. I pulled my finger from my pussy and pulled back my hood again. I touched my clit with the tip of my finger. A tingle shot through my spine. Here we go. I circled it with my finger, and started to tickle it. Circle, tickle, circle, tickle circle, tickle, rub, rub, rub, rub. Rub harder, rub, harder, rub, harder, harder, harder.

Son of a fucking bitch.

This. Is. Going. To. Kill. Me.

My eyes rolled backward into my head again. I rubbed. I shoved my finger inside my pussy as deep as I could and pulled it out. Back to the clit. Rub. Rub. Rub.

Oh my God fucking damn.Oh my. Oh my fucking Jesus,…oh my God.

Fuck yes, fuck yes, fuck yes. Oh. My. God.Here we fucking go.

My entire body shook. Like an earthquake. The kind of orgasm that makes you want to just stop rubbing one out. The one that actually satisfies you.

Three.

I sat in the stall, teeth clenched, with my eyes rolled into the back of my head. Drunk and exhausted. I looked down at my swollen clit. My hand was covered in cum. I pushed my tongue to the roof of my mouth. Something wasn’t right. I tasted something…

Blood.

Fuck. In my earthquake of orgasms, I must have bit my inner cheek. I pushed my tongue into my cheek. Yep. Swollen. Bleeding. Shit. Oh well it was worth it. I wiped, pulled up my jeans, and opened the stall door. Damn, that sobered me up. I felt fine.

I examined myself in the mirror. I wasn’t wearing my glasses today, and I had just chopped all of my hair off, so Heather and I appeared to be sisters; not twins. I stood and admired myself. I turned sideways. I swiveled and glanced over my shoulder. I was kind of curvy, but I looked damn good. Damn good. My ass was round and fat, my boobs were big, but I didn’t have an ounce of fat. A blond haired skinny Kim Kardashian. Randy had always told Heather she was built for fucking.

Proud of my newfound sobriety and my gorgeous looks, I walked to the table.

“You alright?” Heather asked as I was sitting down.

“Great,” I said as I scanned the table for a glass of water.

“You were gone a while. You…you didn’t?”

I nodded.

“I swear. How many?” she asked..

I held up three fingers proudly. I spread them apart so she could count them.

“I envy you. God. Three?’ she asked with little surprise in her voice.

“Tres,” I bragged, holding my three fingers in the air.

I nodded my head as Spoon’s,I Turn My Camera On played over the sound system. She squinted, shook her head, and took her last drink of Margarita.

“Order another drink and a glass of water, we need to talk,” I said, my mind spinning at a different pace than my swollen head.

“About?”

“I have an idea,” I offered, smiling.

“What?” she asked excitedly.

“Order your drink,” I giggled.

You’re going to need it.

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