It’s 2:30 a.m.   I’ve been dozing, off and on, for about 3 hours now, tossing in this small bed in my tiny motel room, thinking about you.   It all started earlier this evening; I stopped in town to do a little shopping and decided to grab some dinner.  Stuck without something to read, I popped into a little video store that had a few books for sale.  Nothing caught my eye until I saw this compilation of erotic stories by women; I thought it might give me some ideas for my own stories, so I bought it.

I was sitting at the Sizzler, surrounded by large Indian families with crying babies and laughing children, reading this book.  The very first story told of a woman exposing her sexuality to her husband, rekindling the fire between them.   She described in great detail how she interrupted his morning coffee by spreading herself wide right under his nose, using her hands to masturbate to orgasm while he watched in amazement.  I sat there, absentmindedly nibbling at my salad while my crotch got wetter and hotter.  I have this ability to shut out distractions when I read, but when I realized my hand had put down my fork and was heading for my lap, I decided I’d eaten enough dinner and went out into the cold night for the 30-minute drive through the mountain pass and my motel.

My room was freezing; there was a thin crust of ice on my water bottle.  I cranked up the heater and turned on the TV, but I kept straying back to the book.  A young drifter stops to earn some money doing odd jobs for a single woman, and talks her into taking a bath. I believe his comment was “A hot bath on a cold night like this is like good sex.”  Well, it’s cold here, so I filled the tub, lay back so the water just licked at my breasts, and continued to read.  As I read about two women licking each other, I started opening and closing my legs, letting the warm water languidly swirl around my pussy lips.  Another story about an orgy of 5 people had my hand tickling at my pubic hair, my finger dipping through the water into my hotter cunt.  But water isn’t the best lubricant, so I got out of the tub and wrapped myself in my short robe.

The small room was pretty warm by now, so I turned down the heat and pulled back the covers on the bed.  I brought my Walkman with me on this trip, so I got out “Supernatural” and put on the headphones.   I propped myself up against the pillows and kept reading.  A science fuck-tion story about an intergalactic brothel was interesting, but the only thing alien about the woman was her skin color.  I chuckled at the conceit; who are we to think that the galaxy is populated with beings just like us?   But the sex descriptions were good and graphic, and my robe fell open as I read.

My skin felt a bit poached from the long soak in the hot water, so I got some lotion and massaged it into my legs and arms then warmed some in my hand before spreading it over my belly, breasts, and thighs.  The room was cooling a bit; I felt a slight chill when the cooler air reached my damp pussy.  I got under the covers and went back to my book.  As a woman and her lover were performing for a wealthy voyeur, another man joins them for a 3-way suck-and-fuckfest.  I let my warm fingers pull at my nipple, then roam slowly down over my belly to play in my curls.  While she sucked her lover, her ass waving in the air, the other man began to finger-fuck her; I began to finger-fuck me. 

It felt good, Santana vibrating through my head, my fingers in my cunt, so I put down the book and used one hand to squeeze and pull at my labia while the other rubbed at my clit.  I thought about how you like to watch me touch myself; I thought about the last time we were together when we used our hands and mouths to bring each other to orgasm.  My hands moved faster, two fingers plunging into my pussy while the other hand spread the lips further apart.  I licked my lips, wishing you were here to moisten them with juice from your beautiful hard cock.  I started to moan, felt the rush of wetness in my cunt, tugged a few more times at my clit before coming with a gasping squeal.

I thought that would help me sleep, but here I am, 3 a.m. in this desolate, frozen place, wide awake.  I need to sleep; I’ve got the long drive back in the morning and I don’t want to doze on the road.   Maybe if I come again…  I’ll think about you and home, and try to imagine these are your fingers in my pussy instead of my own…

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