Cadbury in service

   “Cadbury in Service” Jenny dangled her unadorned legs over the edge of the bed, her slippers had fallen off and landed on the carpeted floor silently, one across the other. Her thoughts raced and anticipation mounted with her heart as it beat faster in her chest. It wasn’t her first time, but she had decided that she wanted to take it to the next level and a Friday night would give her ample time to recover if she needed it. Just the thought of her long-term lover and his experience caused her to breathe a little more rapidly and her pulse to quicken. The heat in her belly and sex rose like a furnace of desire.

There would only be one way to quench the need, but she didn’t want to rush it. She lay back and rested her head on the pillows she had arranged to support her. Almost automatically, her fingers found her lips and parted the silken folds. Her fingertips told of the smouldering heat and her natural wetness.

A slight touch with her index finger against her clit was like an electric shock. A buzz of intense feeling travelled through her stomach and produced a shivering thrill. Just the thought of what was to come had her on the precipice of a major orgasm that threatened to boil over and erupt like Vesuvius. She wanted to hold on though and share her climax with her partner. She pictured him in her minds eye in a third person perception and replayed the scene she had been dreaming about for so long. The visual images playing behind her closed lids almost took her over the edge and she took her fingers away from the temptation of rubbing her clit and fucking her to a crashing high. It was a supreme effort and Jenny contented herself with a taste of her moisture and female lubrication as she sucked off her wetness from slickened fingers. She was ready, but he hadn’t entered the room yet.

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A New Dog Bitch Is Born

Jenny feverously rubbed her clit and she was getting very frustrated. She had been masturbating for nearly an hour and still could not get over the edge. Her usual fantasy about Mike the school football captain was just not doing it today.

Three times she had creamed and then a stray thought intruded and the feeling was lost. She was getting sore now and her juices were drying up again. Shit’, she said out loud to Max, her four year old German shepherd, I am so horny I will go mad if I can’t get off. Max looked back and panted.

Max had been a surprise present for her 9th birthday, the cutest little puppy Jenny had ever seen. She had been begging for one for years, and as they had just moved out in the country her parents decided to grant her wish. Four years later they were inseparable, Max followed her everywhere. He even shared her room, with his own basket at the end of her bed.

It was only a few months ago that Jenny had discovered masturbation; right about the time she’d had her first period. Her extremely knowledgeable friend Amy had told her about it and gave her directions to finding her button, along with some graphic tips at the best methods of stimulation. It didn’t take Jenny long to become an expert, inventing some of her own techniques along the way. When Jenny found time alone to explore her new interest Max usually watched disinterested or lay snoozing in the floor.

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   I met Jenny where she worked behind the counter in a coffee shop, one of those hip local poet hangouts that serve esspresso, and cappichino, and rag on the older generation. Young and still foolish she had a nose ring, and a pierced tongue, but what drew my attention was the thin short T-shirt she was wearing that let me oggle her tucked in waist with the ring in her belly button flap above her denim cut offs, and allowed her nipples to poke through atop thos swollen breasts showing that her right one had a ring pierced in it too. Now why a beautiful girl like that would think she needed any other help to get attention than the body, and face she had already was beyond my comprehension. Without all the jewelry she was perfect bait for the next Playboy Bunny of the Year centerfold. But the thing was, on her it all looked great, as did the butterfly tattoo on the outside of her left ankle, so I put it down as something the crowd she hung around talked her into. After all, with her natural honey blond hair, to have it streaked in bright lime, and red purple as if painted was a bit ludicrous even at 18 years old in her sophomore year of college.

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