Enforced Chastity

First thing Monday morning I had a visit to my gynaecologist, for a colposcopy and a biopsy of my cervix. Not very fun, but not awful – the worst of it is that I am not supposed to have sex for four days. Well, strictly speaking, I’m not supposed to have penetrative sex for four days. And this is the week of my cycle where I suffer enjoy extreme horniness.

(Wouldn’t you know it?)

So my vibrator’s been getting an extreme work-out, limited to my clit and my cunny lips. No plunging it deep inside to whirr upon my g-spot. No using my dildo and working it hard as I gasp and writhe. No fucking either – and don’t think that Apollo hasn’t been complaining about that as much as I have!

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Cruise control

Aphrodite’s cunt calls me down the bed, gentle curls covering a plump and fleshy mons. I inhale gently, learning a new scent and aroma, then slowly lower my head, licking around the clitoris and down around her labia. Tasting, feeling my way. Darting my tongue into her opening, suckling her close while my nose breathes hot damp arousal.

I learn the secret writings of her flesh, the writhings of her hot insides, the mossy grove where she moans in abandonment.

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