After six days of use and denial, you tend to daydream. Thankfully, my work isn't too strenuous, but it is still a fast paced environment. I always do my best, and always aim to please. Recently, on a particularly hectic day, I was running with some papers and broke a bone in my hand falling down in the office. I tripped and instead of reaching out, I held on to the papers as if they would soften the fall. Obviously, they did not. All they did was protect my face from directly hitting the ground at the expense of what my doctor says is my third metacarpal.
"Smooth moves, Looney." Alex says as we leave the doctors office, this time with a small brace over my right hand. I hate that nickname. My name is Luna.
"Thanks." I roll my eyes. "I wasn't trying to break my hand."
"Well if you were trying, you did a very good job. I'm almost proud of you." Alex has a penchant for sarcasm. I've found he also has a penchant for dominating cute girls.
When we get home he helps me out of the car and into the house. We take off our jackets and throw them lazily over the couch. It's a bad habit of ours. Looking at my jacket and wanting to be useful, I pick it back up with my good hand and walk to the closet to hang it up properly.
"I'm sorry I won't be able to help cook dinner with......this." I say as I lift up my brace. It's thankfully a small one, and doesn't go up my arm. It just goes around my hand and thankfully prevents me from using a keyboard. I luckily got off work for at least the next week.
"Not an issue." Alex says with a grin, bringing his jacket back from the couch as well. "Actually, I think it'll be a big help for what I have planned."
"What do you mean?" I ask, confused.
He calmly walks over and hangs his jacket up. Eyeing me, he holds my good hand before raising it above me, pushing me into the closet door and his tongue into my mouth. I melt into him, unsure of what to do with my broken hand. He puts his on my waist, further pinning me to the door. After a while he pulls back and looks into my eyes.
"I've noticed that whenever I give you permission to touch yourself, you use your right hand." He says glancing down at my brace. It's something I would never admit to my friends, but Alex loves it. I always have to ask permission whenever I want to touch myself, and always before I come. The first question is sometimes more of a formality at this point, I've never known him to say no. Frustratingly, he's not so predictable with the second question. I love and hate it at the same time.
"I- I'm, I'm right handed. Of course." I say surprised. He already knows this.
"Do you think you could come? With your left?" He asks, looking down at me. His hand from my waist raises to meet his wristwatch, still holding my left hand above my head.
"Uh, do you- do you want me t..."
He suddenly drops my hand before moving his to my neck, with his other hand going to the side of my head.
"You have five minutes." He whispers before his tongue reenters my mouth.
I have a hard time trying to unbutton my work slacks with one hand before I find my already wet panties. Six days of use and denial will do that to you, and Alex knows it. Normally, five minutes isn't enough to even get me close to coming, but it's all I'm getting, and I am in no position to start complaining now. I start slow, moving my now lone useful hand over the damp cloth as everything is a little more sensitive than usual. At the same time, I am very frustratingly needy and don't have much time.
"Four minutes." Alex whispers in my ear again. I moan into him, and push both my slacks and panties down frantically, revealing my bare, deprived pussy. Alex also requires I keep it bald for him or else I'm punished, but it's something I would do anyway. "Remember..." He whispers slyly again, glancing down before moving his mouth back onto mine. I don't need reminding. I know it's not up to me. I start sliding my middle finger along my overly sensitive slit, but it feels foreign. Strange. I'm not used to getting off with my left hand, much less standing up.
"Three." He states matter-of-factly. I let out a whimper. I'm nowhere near coming but I don't want it to stop. He undoes my bra before moving one of his hands back to my neck, repinning me against the door with a tighter grip than before. His other hand pulls up my shirt to reveal my flushed, willing nipples. Like me, they're also needy and standing up for him to play with. Lightly coaxing and pulling on my left nipple, I know what's about to come next, and it's not going to be me. It naively gets harder before he pinches down on it, forcing me to gasp through his exacting grip on my neck. I start going a little faster, and easily lose track of time.
Lost in the moment, and right as I seem to find a good rhythm, I hear his watch beep before he reaches down to pull my hand away, pinning it against the door. What was five minutes felt like fifteen. I didn't even hear him say two or one.
"No, no, please, please, please..." I trail off, out of breath as his lips leave mine.
"Please what? Did you get close?" He asks.