Posted December 5, 2010 by Insane Hussein in WIP / 2 Comments

So, still in the process of writing but decided to post a snippet from my WIP, titled DUCT TAPE (that’s just what I titled the document LOL). It’s a very rough draft, so here goes!

He was pulling her hair, biting her lips, sucking her tongue. She was excited. Wet. She couldn’t bear the thought of him stopping, but he was slowing down. She was so close! So. Close. Please don’t stop! Finish me. Finish us,” she begged. He chuckled, the sound vibrating against her lips, making them quiver while they yet stung from his bites. How good he felt, his hands on her body, in her hair. Rubbing, kneading, pulling. She couldn’t remember his name, but she didn’t care because the pleasure was that intense. She was going to come. She could feel it, and he hadn’t even penetrated her body yet! She was closer, panting more heavily, faster. She squirmed with excitement, moaned with pleasure. She heard a yelp, distantly thinking it was someone else. All he did was match her rhythm, chuckling, and keeping her on the brink. But she wanted to surpass the brink, in to that glorious orgasm. The one where she could revel as a woman. As an entity of pleasure and satiation.

She could hear a distant buzzing, an alarm of some sort, but couldn’t put a name to it, so focused on her own pleasure, her own release form the tangible. Slowly, his chuckles faded, bringing her focus to the here and now. The present. She had to do something, anything, to keep that pleasure from fading completely; to keep him form leaving her, like he always did, at the brink of pleasure. That painful brink, before she could fall, endlessly, in to the beautiful satiation she required, craved.

The buzzing became louder, and he became a mere wisp and she awoke.

buzz buzz buzz

“Damn alarm,” she groaned. waiting for her pulse to return to normal, her breathing was too fast, too choppy, as if she’d been running, when she was clearly in bed, safe, warm and painfully aroused. It always ended this way for her. She’d had this same dream, of this man, for a little under two months, since she’d moved to this new apartment. She couldn’t get him out of her head. Out of her dreams. Out of her naughty thoughts.

Grumbling, she turned off the alarm, with a slam. Still aroused, she used her own hands. Hey, they were there and she knew what she liked. Using one hand, she rubbed and kneaded her breasts, plucked her nipples. Moaning, becoming more excited, she slowly slid one hand down her body, to her pussy, spreading her lips, she rubbed her finger over her clit. She was squirming now, moaning, gasping for air, as if she couldn’t get enough. Rubbing her clit faster, she inserted one finger in to her pussy, stroking her g-spot and eliciting a response so deep it became desperate and more frantic. Close, closer. NOW!

She screamed out her pleasure, riding the waves until there were none left. Until exhaustion took over, leaving her languid.

Let me know what you think!

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Insane Hussein

J is a super-cool female superhero delivering her honest opinions of romance novels, douchenuggetry, sex toys, porn and whatever else she fancies. When not on the blog, she can be found on twitter chatting about whatever random thing occurs to her, might be curled up with a good book, eating chocolate, guzzling--she mean, sipping delicately--wine, watching TV, watching porn or on her back having orgasms. Or a combination thereof. Don't judge, appreciate!

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