I hadn't been able to orgasm in almost six months.
I couldn't blame it on the inadequacies of a lover; I had been single for almost a year and really had no desire to take anyone new into my bed. My last relationship had ended badly. Up until that point, my affairs had been purely casual. I've always been career oriented and saw men as "leisure". Certainly not a necessity. It wasn't until my last relationship that I'd truly understood what it meant to make love to someone. After being that intimate, I couldn't see myself jumping back into a string of one-night stands with anonymous lovers. So I'd decided to place my focus back on my career, and take care of those physical needs on my own.
Even when I'd had a little black book full of numbers, sometimes I preferred masturbation to intercourse. It was almost like meditation to me; the experience could be anything that I desired and I was completely in control of my own pleasure. If I felt like being penetrated hard and fast, it could happen ... and for as long as I wanted it. If I was in the mood for hours of clitoral stimulation, it was available to me at anytime. I knew exactly what my body craved and I could usually bring myself to mind-blowing orgasm again and again. My friends kept insisting that it was a mental block, that my mind was on my previous lover too much and I was bringing it on myself. I couldn't count the number of times I'd heard, "One good fuck will bring you back to normal." But I didn't want one good fuck.
All these things were running through my mind as I prepared for my trip back home. I'd moved to New York right after college to pursue an occupation as a news editor. Now, at the age of 24, I hadn't quite climbed the corporate ladder that much, but I was well on my way. In fact, there wasn't very much that I didn't have going for me ... I was young, successful, intelligent, and attractive. Although I never wanted to come off as conceited, part of being a successful woman in a man's world is confidence. I had to carry the air of knowing that I could walk into a boardroom and every man's eyes would be on me. Don't get me wrong, I wanted to be recognized for my ability and not my appearance, but a girl's got to start somewhere. When I dressed in a practical but flattering designer suit, heads would turn and eyes would move over me ... from my shoulder-length, curly, dark brown hair to my striking blue eyes; from my full breasts to my toned, flat stomach; from the tips of my heels to the spot where my slender thighs disappeared under my skirt. The thought of being fantasized about, especially by those who had professional authority over me, and having that kind of power made me excited ... and horny.
The packing could wait. I pushed my suitcase out of the way and laid back on my bed. I lifted my ass in the air and slid the shorts I'd been wearing down and kicked them into the floor. My hand immediately began running over the front of my already wet panties. I slid my hand inside and pushed my shaved labia to the sides with my pointer and ring finger, and my middle finger found my small but swollen clit. I began rubbing slowly in a counter-clockwise circular motion. I began to rub faster, my mind full of images of my bosses jacking off after I had just delivered a kick-ass presentation. My hips began moving up and down, in rhythm with the speed that I was rubbing my clit. I could feel the sensation heighten and heat began to run down my thighs. I was so close to cumming. I moved my finger faster and faster, furiously and desperately. "Oh please," I whispered through moans of pleasure. "Oh God, please ... "
And then all of a sudden, there was nothing. The building orgasm was gone. I continued rubbing, but it was useless. "Fuck!" I yelled as I threw my suitcase against the door in frustration. I sat up in bed, leaning on my elbows and resting my head in my hands. My fingers grasped around the roots of my hair, close to my scalp, and I sat stewing in my own disappointment. It was the closest I'd been to release since my predicament had begun. I could have easily sat and sulked all night, but I was interrupted by the phone ringing.
"Hello?" I hadn't thought about my tone. I'd expressed all my frustration in a single word.
"Elizabeth? What's wrong, baby?"
"Nothing, Mom. I'm just tired."
"Are you sure, baby? You know you can talk to me."
"Yes, Mom. I'm fine."
"I don't believe you." My mother always had a gift for reading my emotions. Even over the telephone.
"Well, you'll see when I get there tomorrow. Speaking of which, I need to finish packing."
"Okay, darling. I just wanted to make sure you were still coming."
That word made me flinch. If only I were still cumming. If only I were cumming at all.
"Yeah, I'll see you tommorrow evening. Love you."
"Love you too, baby. Bye."
I was going to have to pull it together. After all, I'd be at my parents' house this time tomorrow, and I couldn't be stomping around like a spoiled little girl who wasn't getting her way. It was bad enough that my mother would be grilling me about my love life, I didn't want to be forced to discuss my sex life with her.
I'd always had a good relationship with my parents. My father was ambitious, successful, and dependable ... but he was also a loner. He spent most of his time at the office or in front of a laptop. He didn't express alot of emotion, but he always made it obvious that he cared about his family. He wanted to ensure that we always had the best of everything. My mother, on the other hand, was a constant source of energy. She had married my father before she ever graduated high school and gave birth to me two days after she turned eighteen. Physically, I could be her clone ... except that she had red hair and was a little curvier. We'd always been more like friends then like mother and daughter ... at least until I hit my teenage years. I started viewing my mother as the enemy and our relationship took a devastating turn for the worse. Its only been over the past two years that we've become close again.
I looked over at the suitcase lying against my bedroom door. "Fuck it, I'll get it in the morning." I pulled the sheets back on my bed. I was facing a long drive to North Carolina in the morning.
The sun had almost completely set when I pulled into my parents' driveway. The thirteen hours I'd spent behind the wheel had been exhausting, and as happy as my parents would be to see me, all I really wanted to do was get some rest. I soon realized that probably wouldn't be an option, however, when my mother came bounding out to my car before I'd even cut the engine off. I turned the key, opened the door, and gave her a hug. It had been awhile since I'd seen her ... right after Keith and I had broken up. My mother had changed. I could tell that she'd been working out, and she had cut her usually long red hair into a shorter, more modern style.
"Wow, Mom. You look great!"
"Thank you, baby. So do you! I can't believe you haven't bagged some corporate executive for a husband yet."
I ignored Mom's comment as I opened the trunk of my sports car and pulled out my bags. "So, am I staying in my old room?"
"No, honey, I'm sorry. We're doing some renovations and we had to move your old bed up to the attic. You'll have to stay in the guest room right down the hall from mine and Daddy's."
I was a little upset. One of my favorite parts of home visits was sleeping in the room I'd grown up in. It held so many good memories and feelings. Disappointed once again, I walked into the front door and began walking towards the steps. I made a quick right turn and walked into my father's office. He was, as usual, sitting in front of his computer ... looking at some kind of stock report. I leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Hi, Daddy."
"Glad you're here, Elizabeth." He didn't even look away from the screen.
After taking a hot shower, I'd settled into the guest room. It was still early, but I was tired. I drifted off to sleep with dreams of Keith filling my head ... my sleep was tormented with visions of his toned, naked body and the look that was always in his eyes as he'd push his cock inside me. I woke at 3 am, lonely and in need of release. I parted my thighs and slid two fingers inside of my warm, wet, pussy. I bent them slightly, and began sliding them in and out while closing my eyes and thinking of my former lover. I needed to cum so badly. Adding a third digit, I continued to finger fuck myself. My pussy was dripping wet and the feeling was beautiful ... but it became clear that I was not going to orgasm. "God damn it," I yelled as I gave up. I was practically in tears. I rolled over and cuddled against my pillow, and fell asleep unfullfilled once again.
It seemed like I had only just gotten to sleep when the sound of my mother beating on the door woke me up. I jerked awake, rubbing my eyes. "Come in." My mother burst through the door like it had been holding her back for a long time. She was wearing a bright yellow bikini and large, stylish sunglasses. Her short red hair was clipped back behind her ears.
"Good morning, baby! There are blueberry muffins on the table for breakfast. I thought maybe you might want to join me by the pool. The weather is too nice for you to sleep all day."
"Sleep all day? Mom, its barely 9. I don't get to sleep late very often."
