I was going to do this.
He hadn’t yet come when I called. Perhaps, when he heard his name on my lips as I touched myself, he would reconsider.
At least, I hoped he would.
“Please be watching,” I muttered under my breath as I moved my hands from my sides to my stomach. My fingertips glanced over my skin, circling and swirling slowly. I closed my eyes and let my head sink back into the plush pillow as my hands cautiously explored.
This wasn’t the first time I’d masturbated, but I had never done it quite so openly. It was always under the covers, in the dark with a hand slipped into my underwear. Never so… exposed.
And as my cool hand moved up and over my breast, my nipple beaded almost painfully, causing my lips to part and my face to soften.
If I were being honest, I planned on this being an act, showing Ettore what I thought he wanted to see. But now, as the stirring of lust swirled in my taut belly, I barely thought about being watched. When my legs parted and my hand slipped between them, I cupped my mound and let out a shaky sigh. Unconsciously, my legs spread even wider as I dipped my middle finger into the warmth of my pussy, running it gently along my slit, up and down, slowly at first, circling my nipple with a light finger.
I thought about the last time we were together, here in this room. The smell of his cologne lingered in my memory. His primal state. How my husband threw me down, held my ass high and ate my pussy like it was his absolute pleasure. I’d never felt so desired. Ettore worshipped me in a way that made me feel both uncomfortable and undeniably wanted.
And as my fingers glanced my opening, I found it slick with wetness, and I bit my bottom lip hard enough to hurt, making my fingers work faster, then breathed out, “Oh, yeah.”
My clit began to swell and when I thought about the moment Ettore plunged into me, the precise moment of penetration, my hips bucked upwards and my toes curled into the sheets. I dipped my fingers inside of myself, in and out, a poor imitation of how roughly Ettore fucking me. A long, needy moan was torn from my throat. “God, yes, Tor. Fuck me.”
It was so obscene, the way he took me.
Ettore didn’t ask permission. He didn’t need to because I was his to take.
My breathing turned shallow and hitched when I grazed my clit. I dipped into myself, gathering wetness, using it to lubricate my fingers and a desperate whine escaped me because it felt so damn good. I was close, but not close enough. My fingers circled one nipple, pinching hard enough to make me hiss out in pain, but it felt like a solid greedy lick to my clit.
This wasn’t a show anymore. “Please, Tor. Don’t stop.”
I alternated fucking my hot, needy pussy with my fingers then circling my clit with gentle but firm fingertips. My body began to tense. I tugged at my nipple, pulling it until it stung, and shuffled restlessly out of sheer frustration.
“Just like that,” my voice didn’t even sound like my own. “Don’t stop. Oh, God, don’t stop. I’m so close.” I ran my fingers over my clit rapidly, panting loudly, moaning in short bursts. “Don’t stop, baby. Fuck me harder.” My legs stiffened. I felt it coming and whined impatiently, “Please. I need it. I need you.” Everything went tight. My ass clenched, my tight hole fluttered and my fingers worked overtime over the bundle of nerves that demanded attention. I was desperate for it and just when I thought it would never come, my eyes shot open, my back arched and I hoarse cry escaped me as my body went numb, my head swam and pussy clenched then released, over and over again, in what was the most intense orgasm I had ever given myself.
And as quickly as it arrived, it began to ebb away, leaving me a puddle of goop in the center of the bed. My body limp, I huffed and puffed quietly, making soft sounds of feminine satisfaction, running my legs up and down the length of the sheets until my heart beat returned to an acceptable pace and feeling returned to my body.
I sat up on the mattress and blinked sleepily. After a while, I got up, went to the bathroom and cleaned up. I washed my hands, turned off the faucet, and thought a long moment before I glanced up directly into my reflection and uttered a timid, “It could have been you.”
It could have been.
But you’re not here.
I felt silly. This little show may have all been for nothing. There was no guarantee he was watching. But, as I shuffled back to bed and slipped under the covers, my body felt lighter than it had in weeks. I fell asleep thinking I should do this again tomorrow, if not for Ettore, for me.
After all, I was only human.
* * *
I woke with a new attitude.Maybe it was the delicious orgasm I had given myself or it was the fact Marco had given me solid confirmation that Ettore was watching me, but when I slipped out of bed in the morning and walked towards the bathroom, I turned on the shower and spoke out loud as I pulled a fresh towel out from under the vanity. “Good morning. I would say have a good day, but I’m still mad at you, so all I’ll say is have the day you deserve, dear husband.” I blew a kiss towards the mirror, then stepped into the shower with a coy smile.
After lunch, when I was partway through my yoga session, I transitioned from child’s pose to cat’s pose then breathed deeply as I stretched my back out, I muttered, “Why am I even bothering working on my bendiness?” I moved into cow pose, sticking my butt out as I lifted my head. “You know, I can think of a couple of things you could do to me in this pose. Three if you really use your imagination.”
Another solitary dinner went by. I plated up my pan-fried salmon and garlic rice, loading up on steamed greens, then I took a lonely seat at the counter. I cut a small piece of salmon and popped it into my mouth, and my face turned soft with pleasure. I dug into the rice and spoke around my mouthful. “I’m not a bad cook. I mean, not all of my meals are wins, but this one I’d give a solid eight.” A bite of the plain, flavorless greens had my adjusting my score. “Alright, a seven.”
There was on weird side-effect of my one-sided conversations.
A peculiar sense of connection. Of contentment.
As I sat back on the sofa with a half glass of wine, watching yet another reality show, I suddenly lost focus and looked around, wondering where the camera was in this room. I spoke the words whisper soft. “I wonder if you had a good day.”
He probably wasn’t even listening.