Accessory to a Masturbator

I was asleep, to begin with. There is no doubt whatever about that. It was 4:45 in the a.m. and I was stirred from my slumber by the sonorous buzz of Lo’s vibrator, the rhythmic rattle of the bed, and the blue glow illuminating her face that was so contorted with a look of singular focus and intensity that I thought I was seeing a ghost. She was lying on her tum, both hands buried under the covers and under her body, the phone propped up on a pillow about six inches in front of her. From the sound of the Hitachi’s hum and the shaking of the bed, I deduced that she was working her clit with the Magic Wand and her puss with a dildo, leaving no hands free.

I opened one eye first and, upon seeing her apparition, I surprised myself with my ability to remain inconspicuous. I didn’t stir. I tried to give no hint that I was, in fact, awake — inconsiderately propelled out of my torpor. I saw her struggle to keep the pleasure points stimulated while simultaneously fumbling through her phone for images.

Acutely aware that no mortal would be able to withstand the auto-erotic stimuli that Lo was producing, I announced my awakening by asking Lo, “Can I help you?”

I was hoping she would be grateful if I would get behind her, replacing her dildo, freeing up one hand so she could scroll through the photos. But no.

“Yeah,” she said, not surprised and unconcerned that I was awake, “swipe left.”

I did as she commanded. I looked at her phone and there were pics of men, women, couples — all getting off to her photos. As she gazed at each image, she took in the content, and then said, “Swipe.”

She was demanding, insistent, and a tad rude about it. But she had a goal and nothing was going to get in her way — certainly not good manners.

“Swipe,” she said. I did as told. Another photo of a guy jacking to her pics.

“Swipe.” A photo of a woman jilling to Lo.

“Swipe.” A picture of a couple; the woman gives the guy a blowjob as Lo’s image is on the computer in front of them.

“Swipe.” A man with what looks to be a 12 inch cock. He holds it with two hands as if wielding it like a weapon. I hear Lo whisper, “Fuck.” She scrunched up her legs under her like an inchworm. The bed rattled. It’s a big, heavy, solid bed. It takes a lot for it to rattle.

Lo said, “Fuck!” Louder this time. More angry almost. I heard the Hitachi click into high gear. Lo squeezed her eyes closed tightly.

“FUCK!!!” she called out. I heard the dildo shoot out of her followed by the sounds of her geyser gushing onto the bed. She convulsed, clutching the bed sheets, burying her head in the pillow and screaming at the top of her lungs: “FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK!!!!!!!”

Then silence. Peace. Stillness.

She struggled to lift her head. When she did, she looked at me. Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

“You ok?” I asked.

She nodded, a little ashamed.

“Feel better?”

She nodded again.

“Ready to sleep?”

She nodded a third time.

I pulled her head to my chest where she rested it comfortably. One wet leg was lying flat on the bed nest to my leg. She lifted the other wet leg and placed it over my legs, parallel to her arm which reached around my chest. She was wrapped around me like a marsupial clinging to a tree. I felt her puss still slippery and perhaps ejaculating a dribble more like a leaky faucet on my hips.

I kissed her forehead and said, “Sleep.” There was no need. I could tell by her breathing that she was already in dreamland.

Meanwhile, my cock was rock hard as the first light of dawn began to illuminate the windows.

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