Masturbation Phone Sex- Heather Enjoys Her Alone Time Part 1 

I couldn’t even remember the last time I’d been all alone in the house. To say it was a rare occurrence these days was an understatement. I’d even switched off the incessant background chatter of the television. The silence felt like an old friend. My long absence was quickly forgiven, welcoming me back with an embrace filled with tantalizing potential. After simply enjoying the revitalizing silence for a few minutes, I wondered what I should do to make the best use of this alone time. The answer was pretty obvious—masturbation, like my phone sex calls. The decadence of being able to pleasure myself elsewhere than in my bedroom’s safe haven, or behind a locked bathroom door, was supremely arousing by itself. 

Honestly, I was dripping, and I hadn’t even started yet. I felt my clit tingle beneath my skinny jeans, under the lace of my G-string. Suddenly I was hyper-aware of my breasts, the hardening of my nipples, and the fact that my pussy lips felt like they wanted to part, begging to be filled and pleasured. I had at least an hour yet; no need to rush. I knew the front and back doors were locked, so I didn’t have to worry about being walked in on. The lounge curtains, however, were wide open, with sunlight streaming in from the street outside.  Although it wasn’t a massively busy road, there were occasional passersby. I imagined being spotted by one of them walking past, me sitting on the sofa, legs spread and hands thrust down my jeans, pleasuring my aching cunt. 

Now I was definitely getting wet, and I was going to have to do something about it—time for some masturbation. 

 The rareness of this solitude made me feel like I didn’t want to share it with anything. No vibrators, no lube. This afternoon was all just for me, alone with my imagination, fingers, and arousal. Besides, if necessary, sticky wet fingers were easier to hide than a vibrator. Slowly, I unbuttoned my jeans and slid my fingers down between the denim and my lace underwear. Gently, allowing my fingertips to find and circle over the hard nub of my clit while enjoying the sensation of my breasts being pushed closer together, my nipples rubbing against the scratchy lace fabric of my bra, as my hand explored the fabric-restricted area between my legs.

The subtle bondage effect of my knuckles being restrained by the extra-tight denim wasn’t lost on me. In fact, I was quite enjoying it, as frustrating as it was. It is a strange feeling, sexually arousing, that is self-inflicted frustration. Deliberately heightening every inch of eroticism, forcing my mind to the peak of self-awareness. All the while still avoiding the pinnacle of self-pleasure and taking the scenic route to a carefully crafted, body and mind-crashing climax. At the same time, my other hand was pulling my breasts free from the confines of the lace bra, liberating them from the fabric but still holding in the scaffolds of the wire cups beneath my t-shirt.

Cum back on Friday to read part two! There are always extra details.

Also, Don’t forget I am building a badass collection, so check out another one of my dirty adventures.

You can purchase my naughty audio blog if you are as nasty as me (you better be) and can’t wait.

AND

Call me, and let’s make our own stories

Phone
877-522-3722

Read more about me.

Heather Rose

or

Email
heather@phonesextemple.com

 

 
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