by Bebe Wilde
SEX STORY
An Erotica Short
Also by Bebe Wilde:
The Weaker Sex
Adults Only: Seven Erotica Shorts
SEX STORY
An Erotica Short
Bebe Wilde
Abernathy and Monroe
Sex Story: An Erotica Short. Copyright © 2011 by Bebe Wilde.
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the publisher. For more information, email [email protected]
Published by Abernathy and Monroe.
eBook ISBN–13: 978-0-9837050-1-7
eBook ISBN–10: 0-9837050-1-1
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead is entirely coincidental.
For Those Who Long For Love
SEX STORY
I never used to do it. Never. I would never do this, what I was doing now. I pretended it didn’t exist. I thought if I didn’t think of such things, I wouldn’t have to do such things. It’s like I thought I didn’t need it. I wasn’t that kind of girl. Now I know differently. I do need it. I have to have it. If I don’t do it, I go crazy. And I am that kind of girl.
But I didn’t tell anyone. No. I have never had a conversation about it. I’ve never said to another human being, “Hey, when’s the last time you masturbated? It’s been a few days for me. I just haven’t had the time.”
That wouldn’t be true and it’s not true because I make the time to pleasure myself. But, like I said, it wasn’t always like this. I didn’t always do this. I was partly afraid and partly ashamed. Why would I do that? Yes, yes, it’s supposed to be normal. Well, it is normal. It’s supposed to be something everyone does, self pleasure. But not me. I literally couldn’t do it. I mean, I just couldn’t. What I thought would happen if I did was beyond me. Perhaps I thought I’d lose control or something. People used to say that you would go blind or grow hair on your palms or whatever. Silly, if you think about it. I mean, what’s the big deal? Well, it was a big deal for me and though I didn’t have any fears of going blind or growing hair on odd parts of my body, I just didn’t do it. Besides, I had no interest in doing it and couldn’t understand why anyone else would either.
But all that changed one day and it changed because I suddenly came to the understanding that I was one uptight prig. Being a prig meant that I couldn’t enjoy myself or my life that much. It meant that I had stay in control at all times and never, ever loosen up. It meant I could not, under any circumstances, give myself pleasure. Fortunately for me though, I finally discovered what it was all about. My life’s not been the same since I did.
I can still remember the day. I was home by myself surfing the internet. I’d been sick, so I was home from work and bored out of my mind. My cold was finally subsiding and I was ready to get back to work. I closed my eyes, imagining the stacks of folders waiting for me on my desk and groaned. “If only I could win the lottery…” But I didn’t play the lottery, so that wasn’t going to happen.
Just then, I heard a noise outside my apartment door. When I opened the door, I saw a delivery man disappearing down the hall and a package on my doorstep. I stared at it. I hadn’t ordered anything. When I looked closer, I saw that it was addressed to someone else, a neighbor down the hall—Jill Daniels. She was a woman around my age—late twenties—and always kept odd hours. She worked as a manager in a bar/grill that my boyfriend and I occasionally went to. We were on friendly terms. She’d give us free appetizers and drinks sometimes and when she was out of town, I’d pick up her mail. We weren’t close friends but we weren’t enemies, either. We were just neighbors who helped each other out sometimes.
I groaned and picked the package up and went to her door. I knew she was home because I’d seen her car in the parking garage earlier when I’d gone out for cold medicine. After two knocks, she answered, smiling at me.
“They left a package for you,” I said and handed it to her.
She grinned and took the package under one arm. “Sorry, Lara,” she said. “Feeling better?”
“A little,” I replied and sniffled. “I’ll probably be back to work tomorrow.”
“Good, good, “she said. “How’s Eric?”
“He’s great, actually,” I said “Still working like a fiend.”
“You two should come down to the bar soon,” she said. “We’ve got a new bartender who makes a killer mojito.”
“Okay,” I said. “When I get over this cold.”
She smiled and was about to say something else when I heard a noise behind her. I looked over her shoulder to see a very muscular good looking guy with a towel barely tied around his waist. He casually walked into her kitchen, opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a bottle of water. I shook my head then noticed that she was wearing a short hot pink silk robe. How could I have missed that? It must have been the cold medicine. Even so, I blushed a deep bright red. I couldn’t believe I’d just interrupted them having sex! God, I was so embarrassed.
“Sorry,” I said. “So, so sorry. I didn’t know—”
She winked. “That’s okay.” She leaned in and whispered, “He’s the new bartender.”
I couldn’t help but look over her shoulder at the guy. Wow—he was hot. Wow—she was lucky.
“I’ll get going then,” I said hurriedly and started to exit.
“Here,” she said. “Take this. I don’t need it anymore. Have fun!”
And then she thrust the package in my hands and shut the door. What the hell was that all about? I stared at the door and then at the package. I started to just set it down on her doorstep, but at the last second decided to take it back to my apartment and give it to her later.
When I got back to my apartment, I felt slightly embarrassed and slightly self-conscious. What the hell was wrong with me? I tried to shake it off, then thought it might just be the cold medicine. I hated taking that stuff but if I wanted any relief, I had to. I went back to my laptop and started to check my email when the package caught my eye. It was a small package of the standard-issue brown cardboard box variety. I went over to it and glanced at the return address which read, “Garden of Delight,” and had a pretty flower as its moniker. I wondered what it could be.
I looked around my apartment and was reminded that it needed tidying up. Then I turned my attention back at the package. Then I looked around the apartment again. I really needed to change the curtains. They just didn’t go with my new brown leather Chesterfield couch. They were purple. What had I been thinking when I bought them? The box caught my eye again. Should I open it? Well, Jill had given it to me. It might be some nice candles I could light when I could smell again. Just then I sneezed. God! This cold was driving me crazy!
“Good grief!” I exclaimed, exasperated. This was getting a little tiresome. I knew my curiosity would never let it rest, so I took my letter opener and sliced through the tape and then pulled the box open. Plastic peanuts spilled out everywhere. Great. Now I’d have to clean that up. Finally at the very bottom I found out what was in the box. When I pulled it out, I gasped. It was a vibrator. My neighbor had given me a vibrator! Knowingly! Then I thought about the good looking bartender she was probably boning at this very minute. That’s why she didn’t need it anymore.
I shook my head. Was this some sort of joke? Was Jill playing some sort of prank on me? Did she think I was some sort of prude or what? Did she think I need a vibrator because someone like me would never own one? Wait, wait, wait. My thoughts were racing crazily. I slowed them down and focused. Damn
that cold medicine anyway. Jill wasn’t like that. She wasn’t a mean person. She was nice. Maybe she just thought it would be funny. Maybe she thought it would add to my nonexistent collection. Maybe she thought she was being nice and doing me a solid. She didn’t know I didn’t have one nor had ever owned one. The reason I was more than a little taken aback was because I’d never been gifted a vibrator. While I really didn’t know her exact motivation, I assured myself that she wasn’t making fun of me. She wasn’t that sort of person. Besides, she had no way of knowing if I was prude or not. Unlike my boyfriend.
I squeezed my eyes shut and thought about Eric. Now he was good looking. All the women at work were so jealous I had him they couldn’t see straight. And the thing was, I didn’t know how I landed him. He was a sales rep who had a meeting with my boss one day. When he passed by my desk, he casually asked if I had the time. I glanced at his watch, which seemed to be keeping prefect time and said, “I think you know what time it is.”
“Oh, you’re right,” he said and chuckled this deep, masculine chuckle. “It’s time to ask you out for drinks.”
I blushed and almost fell out of my chair. I couldn’t believe he was asking me out. Was he certain he wanted me? I almost asked if he was sure he was asking the right girl, as I never got asked out like that. But the way he stared at me told me he thought I was hot stuff. And I was. I just had some major insecurity to go along with it. I don’t know why, either, but I just felt like I wasn’t up to snuff. I was, of course, but I never felt it.
“So, how about it?” he asked. “Wanna get loaded?”
I couldn’t help but laugh and shake my head at him. “I don’t think anyone’s ever asked me out quite like that before.”
“Well, did it work?” he asked, with a wicked twinkle in his eye.
Damn right it worked. It worked like a charm. Even if I wasn’t the type of person to get “loaded,” I might have gotten loaded with him. He could charm the pants off a snake. Or get me really, really drunk.
From there our relationship just evolved. The only stumbling block we had was in the bedroom. I wanted the lights out and rarely had an orgasm. It wasn’t anything to do with him. I was just so self-conscious. He thought he could bring the wild crazy slut out in me, I guess, or at least make me relax. This is why he kept trying. He could make me come orally, but that was about it. I did try to get into it and I pretended when I couldn’t. He knew it, too, and I could tell it was frustrating for him but I could not give myself completely over to him. I kept telling him that it wasn’t anything to do with him; it was just something I lacked, strong sexual energy. I don’t know why, but I just didn’t have it. I hated being like that, being frigid and never feeling turned on, but I just could not loosen up for the life of me. I knew it was taking a toll on our relationship and I knew he’d probably leave me eventually, even if he did insist that he loved me more than anything.
I think it made us both feel like failures. Sometimes I would get so frustrated at myself, I’d want to cry or kick the wall. Most times, I just pushed it out of my head and told myself that I didn’t need it; I didn’t need sex or orgasms or any of that. And maybe I didn’t. But I knew he did. That’s why our relationship was a ticking time bomb. Soon enough he would get so frustrated with me, it’d go off and he’d be out the door.
The thought of losing Eric was enough to make me cry. And, to be honest, that’s why I took the vibrator out of its package. I thought if I could learn to use it and learn to love sex like he wanted me to, it might just save our relationship and any future we might have. Sure, relationships probably shouldn’t be built on sex, but they need sex in order to survive. And they need it because sex makes being in a relationship fun. And if it’s not fun, then why bother?
It was a small vibrator, bright pink in color. The package told me it was waterproof. I turned it on. It did nothing. What the hell? Oh! Batteries! I found some, inserted them and then turned it on again. The buzzing sound was enough to annoy the shit out of anyone. I turned it off and looked around the apartment. Eric had left his golf clubs in the corner. They took up so much room. What if he broke up with me and I got stuck with them? No he loved golf too much for that.
The thought almost made me panic but I knew that was what was coming if things didn’t improve. On the surface, things were great. We looked like any other young, happy, successful couple. Our relationship had evolved to the point of giving each other keys to our respective apartments. We were really close and spent almost every night together. We went out or we stayed in. It didn’t matter. I really loved him and only wished I could be the sexual creature he wanted me to be. But this thing, this annoying thing in my head kept me from doing it. And the kicker was, I didn’t even know what the thing was! It had me trapped, this thing, but I couldn’t find a way around it.
I stared at the vibrator. Yeah, I should just try it. What could it hurt? I thought, How do you do this? For a moment, I had to pause and chastise myself for being an almost thirty year old woman who had never used a vibrator. What the hell was wrong with me? Was this normal? Was I normal? I didn’t know and the thought scared me enough to realize that, yeah, I needed to do this. If not for Eric, at least for myself.
I picked up the package again, scanning it for instructions. There weren’t any clear ones. It basically said, “Enjoy!” Well, that would be nice if I could figure out how. Did I insert it or what? It didn’t look like it would feel very good inside of me as it was made of hard plastic. What to do? What to do?
I turned it on and placed it on a crick I had on my neck. The vibration felt good. It actually helped alleviate some of the pain. I moved over to the couch, sat down and closed my eyes and felt the soft but hard buzz. Then I moved it to my lips, feeling the vibration. Yeah, I was actually really feeling it now. I moved it down to my chest. And then I began to feel it, that strong sense of want, the need for the vibrator to do more. It was odd, a feeling I’d never felt before. It made me want more. It made me want to do something more. It made me feel alive and it sparked this want in me I’d never had before. The want was to just see where this could lead.
And then I felt the need to touch my breasts. They were aching now for a touch. They needed it so badly. Oh, God, if only Eric were here now. I could imagine him being here, ripping my shirt off and grabbing my breasts, squeezing them, pinching the nipples before leaning down to suck them into his mouth.
“Oh Eric,” I moaned, wanting him here now, needing him here. Before I knew what was happening, I found my hand inside my shirt, beneath my bra and gripping my breast. Ahhh… Now I was getting somewhere. My nipples stood erect under the pressure of my fingers and I pinched them slightly. Was I really doing this? Yes, I was. I was all of a sudden in the throes of passion for myself. My eyes fluttered open and I stared at Eric’s golf clubs again, imagining myself picking one up and sliding it between my legs.
I settled back on the couch and opened my legs, still staring at the golf clubs, thinking about Eric, my man. I thought about his big, strong arms and his ripped abdomen and his dark blonde hair which fell into his eyes when he needed a haircut. My vagina began to throb. What would he call it, my vagina? Once, he’d tried to talk dirty and asked if he could eat my pussy. And he’d said it just like that, “Can I eat your pussy?” I’d gasped and ruined the moment. We hadn’t had sex for two weeks after that and he never broached the subject of dirty talk again.
My pussy… Oh, yeah, that’s what it needed to be called. Something a little naughty and bad. Something nasty. It was nasty, wasn’t it? It was aching, aching so badly as it wanted more. I was getting so turned on, I didn’t know if I could contain myself but I couldn’t not do it. Not now anyway. I had to do it. My hand went into my pajamas bottoms and into my panties. I was wet. Eric loved it when I was wet like this. He didn’t say anything, of course, but he’d smile with pleasure whenever he’d touch me down there and feel the slick heat of passion.
I touched it then. I touched myself and really, really
felt myself for the first time. I was moist and ready. If Eric had been in the room, I would have grabbed his cock and sucked it. I wanted to. It was like something had finally clicked in my brain and now I understood the whole thing. This was what sex was about, this want and this need to be overpowered and to be fucked and sucked and loved and worshiped while giving it back. If only he was there with me, I could have finally given him what he wanted. I wanted to sit down on his cock and ride it. I wanted him to put me up on all fours and stick it in and fuck me hard. I wanted him there with me, with me sucking on his cock. But he was at work. He’d called earlier to tell me he’d be late. If only he was here, I could give him this, give him myself which I know he wanted so badly.
I found myself wriggling out of my pajamas bottoms and out of my panties and lying bare-assed naked on the leather couch. It felt so freeing to not have clothes on that part of my body. And then the vibrator found its way to my clit. And that’s when I realized what I’d been missing out on for all these years. Oh God, it felt so good, so bad, so right and so fucking wrong! It felt like nothing I’d ever felt before, not even Eric’s cool, moist lips. It felt like something I’d been missing out on all my life and once I found it, there was no going back.
The orgasm just came at me. I nearly leapt out of my skin with it. It was intense with the vibrator, probably the most intense orgasm I’d ever experienced. I grabbed my breast and squeezed hard as I came and then I cried out in absolute joy and ecstasy as the release swept through my body and then gave me peace.
It was over. But it had only just begun.
* * * * *
Soon thereafter, I began doing it on a regular basis. Not only that, I’d bought myself several new toys. I bought a dildo, a rabbit and several other battery operated sexual devices. All for me, for my enjoyment. The “Garden of Delight” certainly became a favorite shopping site.