As soon as I close the tall oak door I lean against it, and a small sigh crosses my scarlet, swollen lips, the shiny little spy hole penetrating the door directly behind my head. I love spending time with James, my tall, dark, handsome boyfriend; we always have a great time together.
I kick my trainers off carelessly, shoving them under the radiator near the door not hesitating again before running up the stairs quickly, my feet tapping the carefully crafted wood, bombing into my almost too-neat-for-a-teenager bedroom and locking the door with a certified click. If dad is at home, I wouldn’t know, and I don’t care.
I plop myself down into my mock elegant style chair in front of my bleached pine dresser. It’s kind of like one of those imitation Hollywood dressers, with the dazzling, studded lights around the mirror. They’re just for show, I’ve had this since I was a kid, me and my mum made it so I’d never get rid of it.
I look over my make up and hair bands, mingled with jewellery and the odd fine toothed comb, then I glance into the mirror, looking at my still blushing face from the cool air and the kiss I received on the doorstep only minutes before.
I was close to my mum she was lovely. I sigh again and I lean on my elbows, cheeks resting on my palms as I look at the best photo of her. In this one she is on the beach, playing in the sea with me, the gentle waves lapping at our ankles and the sun staining our skin a firm brown colour. It’s great, reminds me of the good old days.
It sits in my best frame to one side of my dresser and I often find myself gazing into it and letting a silent tear trickle down my cheek.
Not today though, even the car accident that sadly killed her 4 months ago can’t put me down right now, I had sex for the first time last night and even though I miss her greatly, a new love and lust has acquired a home in my young, naïve to the world, delicate mind, for J.
I have no brothers or sisters, just my dad to take care of me now. We get on quite well, but I often find him staring lustfully at my body, it makes me uncomfortable just thinking about him doing anything to me, not that I ever thought he would, but after last night, the vicious spanking I received, and the lust in his eyes as he watched me beg for forgiveness makes me squirm with sick dread, even now.
I run a comb through my soft, waved brunette hair, shoving my sick thoughts out of my head and I admire my shimmering beauty in the mirror. That may sound big headed, but I love my face, just thinking about it makes me involuntarily turn and stare at the contours of it, admiring and scrutinising my own self.
I slowly prize myself away from the mirror as I get up again, peeling my top off and then my skirt and panties, needing to change, my pussy juice and cum soaked panties making me look highly suspicious and I get out a simple black thong, my favourite blue, tight fitting jeans and a simple black strap sleeved top, deciding to leave the white bra because the straps are see-through anyway.
Grabbing the bundle of clothes I unlock my door, swiftly entering the bathroom and closing the door in there instead, blindly forgetting to lock it.
I put the lid of the porcelain toilet down and put my clothes down on it, before calmly unhooking my bra, pulling it away from my firm tits, and glad to say, feeling them stay almost exactly the same without the support of the bra.
I smile at my body, looking into the mirror and gently fondling my hard nipples with my forefinger and thumb. I gasp sharply as I pinch them and I quickly decide to tear myself away from my masturbation, forcing my agonizing pussy to wait a little longer.
I can feel my clit tingling annoyingly as I turn on the shower, flicking my nipples playfully as I turn the tap with my other hand, getting the water to the right temperature. Cool enough to keep my nipples aroused but warm enough to stop myself from freezing.
Eventually I get under the gentle stream of water, feeling it cascade like a waterfall down over my sore but partially satisfied body. It’s not long before I’m back to rubbing my tits and teasing the sensitive, almost painfully hard, little pink nubs of flesh.
My pussy is seriously aching to be touched and I silently curse J for leaving me in this state. Slowly slipping my hand furtively down to my magenta, wet, begging flesh between my legs, but stopping short.
Teasing myself as I put some of my moisturising shower gel on my tummy, watching it dribble precariously into my belly button accompanying it sexily with my hand, lathering up the soap as my hand travels curiously down.
Then I bring it straight back up again and over my tits, catching my fingers on my nipples carelessly, lathering up my neck and shoulders, then down to my hips, my thighs. Rubbing everywhere apart from the one place begging for the touch of an invading finger, or two or three. I smile to myself.
I turn, pointing my damaged my ass towards the door and I rinse the soap off the front of my smooth body quickly.
Eventually I lather up my soft natural sponge instead, reaching down my back and scrubbing gently right down to my ass, slipping a teasing finger into my asshole, up to my first knuckle, as the sponge is ran down my crack, making me moan slightly as its pulled out almost as quickly as it’s gone in, stopping again before my finger gets to my pussy hole.