Alone in London

As the cold winter evening drew in and the general hustle and bustle of the city died down, Rachel sat, alone and naked, in her small bedsit contemplating another evening with no-one but herself as company. The room was small and rather dank. What wallpaper there was clung protectively from the walls seeking warmth only from the spare light bulb suspended in the middle of the room.

Rachel didn't have many possessions - many of them had been lost along the way, something that mattered little to Rachel. The dresser supported some reminders of the past; letters, a few photographs and trinkets that had been picked up along the way. Most of the dresser draws were empty save one which was unusually filled with a vast array of underwear. The various laces of different colours sat tangled like a seductive cobweb luring yet repelling any unsuspecting visitor.

Rachel sighed as she contemplated her dismal surroundings. She had lost the will to try and fix her life along time ago but still, on occasion, she longed for something better. Her gaze panned over the room until it fell on the full draw of underwear. The obsession had started a long time ago - longer than she could remember. The silky consistency of lace and cotton had become a mother-like comfort to her and instinctively, she walked over to the draw removing a handful of the lingerie rapidly drawing it to her chest. The clothes felt wonderful against her soft milky skin and sent sensations through her body. Slowly she worked the ball of underwear across her chest descending occasionally to her breast and nipples. Each time the fabric brushed past her nipples she could feel a distinct warmth in her lower belly. The nipples themselves soon began to burn and grow just as she liked it.

While one hand continued to massage her upper body, the other began toying with her belly and soon her hips. She began to feel herself tremble as the goosebumps rippled in her thighs. Slowly but surely she felt her hand caress her silky mound skimming over her sex but never quite stopping. As she continued to massage her breasts with the soft underwear, she allowed her hand to linger over her moist patch, stroking it and rubbing it with her long fingers. As the sensations took her body over she couldn't help herself from sitting and then laying down on the bare concrete floor. The harsh coldness of the floor made her shiver but soon these shivers were intertwined with those of her increasing self induced pleasure.

Her finger movements quickened and her fingers soon began to delve into her soft velvet-like pussy. She quickly allowed herself to rub on her g-spot with two fingers while her thumb continued to excite her throbbing clitoris.

All the while the ball of underwear continued to glide across her upper body, the feeling of which was almost sufficient to make her come. As her movements quickened, her body began to heave and soft moaning sounds emerged from her gasping mouth. The closer she brought herself to climax, the louder she moaned and the faster her movements became. The mound of lace and cotton gradually brought itself lower and soon began to soak up the juices oozing from between her legs.

She brought a quivering hand up to her mouth watching the honey she had produced glistening in the harsh light. As she sucked on her wet fingers she could finally feel the orgasm taking over. As it soared through her thighs and belly, she thrust the panties and bras firmly between her legs trying to hold this intimate forbidden pleasure for as long as possible. To her surprise she found that the sounds coming from her mouth had increased in volume. no longer caring she continued to gasp and whimper as the orgasm slowly died away. Later as she put away the freshly stained underwear, she wondered if the young quiet looking man from upstairs had heard her moans of pleasure. With a smile on her face she lay down to sleep, her last waking thoughts being, "I hope so..."