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Subject: Title story: "Anticipation - 3" Author: Holly 86164636
From: TheXfan <ryzij@poczta.fm>
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Date: Tue, 19 Sep 2006 10:35:08 +0000
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Anticipation - 3
Immediately after Brian left, I bravely determined to keep myself busy until
his return. And for the space of about five minutes, which was how long it took
me to unpack my clothing and few belongings, that was all well and good. But
less than ten minutes after he had left, I found myself sitting at the foot of
the bed, staring blindly at the blank television screen before me, wondering
what to do next.
The sex-fog placed over my mind had hardly lifted through the mundane chore of
transferring my stuff from bags to drawers, and so there was little I could
think of that didn't somehow involve masturbating myself silly. I literally
ached with pent-up fuck lust, and my pussy was noticeably throbbing in protest.
But as much as I craved release, simply the thought of having my appetite
satisfied by Brian's hot cock made the thought of being satisfied by my fingers,
well, unsatisfactory. I was determined to wait this one out, and I was sure the
results would be rewarding.
However, that did not alleviate the present problem of how to occupy my time.
Finally, I heaved a big sigh and dug the book I had been reading on the plane
out of my bag, flopped stomach-first down onto the bed, and tried to interest
myself in the plot.
For a while it seemed to be working. The book was a spy thriller, one that I had
picked up at the airport before I had left, written by some author I had never
heard of. The characters were likeable, the story line interesting, and with
only a monumental effort, I was able to turn my attention from my rampant pussy
to the book.
Several pages later, however, the book blew my benign intentions out of the
water. There, on page 134, the hero character, Jack, was locked in a passionate
embrace with the heroine, the sensuous Darlene. At that point I half hoped, and
half hoped not, that Jack would get into Darlene's pants. One part of me
instinctively knew that the scene would not help my agitated state any, and the
other part of me whispered vile suggestions to Jack. "Fuck her, Jack. Pull her
to the floor, shred her panties, and stick it to her!" I was almost embarrassed
at my own lewdness, but I had long ago accepted the fact that the hornier I get,
the dirtier my mind gets. And at that moment, I was so damned horny, a simple
fade-to-black or sweet, tender lovemaking was just about as sexually satisfying
as reading a children's story.
By page 135, Jack was lapping at Darlene's pussy, and poor Darlene was biting
the back of her hand to keep from moaning. By page 136 ...
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