**Handy Wake-up Call is an erotic tale. It contains themes of vaginal fisting. Read at your own risk.
I awake to the sensation of fingers lazily sliding through my folds. The gentle lapping keeps me in a half-asleep state, but arousal pulls me from my deep slumber. With each swipe, they move more freely as my juices start to flow. Each circuit marking progress. North to my clit, south to my anus. Fingers dip into me briefly, not enough to open me to the probing, but enough to make me crave more, to desire to be filled. To feel his hard body against my softer one.
Knowing I’m awake, but giving me time to appreciate the morning's grace, he nuzzles his chin into the space between throat and neck, nipping gently. I voice my delight with a soft moan. Taking that as the encouragement he needs, my thighs are pulled apart. One placed over his own, the other hangs limply over the edge of the bed.
Slowly, pulling the blankets away from my naked body, he puts me on display for his pleasure. Sliding one leg over mine, he hold it in place and lets his eyes roam over my body as he continues his appraisal. Pulling his fingers together at the top to circle my clit, separating them as they pass by my wet entrance. Running along each side. Stimulating, soft, but never penetrating. Pulling them back together as he circles my puckered hole. His hand wanders back up and repeats the journey.
Eyeing his morning erection, I lick my lips. This man’s cock is delectable and if I could do anything all day, it would be devouring his manhood inch by inch. Taking his other hand, he starts to stroke himself, letting me see how aroused he is. “You want this?” He asks, focusing on my face as I’m focused on his growing erection.
“Please,” I whisper.
Stroking faster, he says, “I didn’t hear that. What did you say?”
“Please,” I repeat. “May I have your cock?”
“Too bad, no. This morning is about what I want. I think torturing you for a bit is a lot more fun.” He continues to stroke himself lazily, mimicking the motions of his other hand. The accumulated wetness between my thighs creating an audible delight.
Removing his hand from his hard shaft, he kneels between my legs. The view is tantalizing, and I know with just a little shimmy, I could easily take him in my hand and encourage him to give me what I want. And what it looks like he needs. But I’ll be a good girl, because I know he’ll give it to me, in his own time.
Reaching his free hand up to my clit, he grasps it between his thumb and two fingers. The slippery flesh moves effortlessly in his hold. Plucking my button, he plunges two fingers deep into my channel. I take a deep breath, adjusting to the internal pressure and sudden stretching. Not giving me time to acclimatize, he pulls his digits out and fills me again with three. My pussy sucks his fingers, filling the room with the sounds of his thrusts.
Shoving his fingers into me roughly, he pulls my clit, twisting and turning. It looks distorted being pulled so far, but it feels amazing. My eyes roll into the back of my head, fluttering shut.
“Eye’s on me, beautiful.” He says gently. “I want to watch you come apart.” Keeping my eyes on his face, I tuck my hands behind my head, embracing the tortuous movements of his fingers. Each withdrawal of his digits presses against my g-spot. Each stroke pushing me to the brink of euphoria.
I feel my climax building. It’s strong and full of urgency. Each stroke and pluck of his fingers pushing me closer to the edge. My breath quickens and I moan a long, drawn-out cry. He knows I‘m close and picks up the pace, pushing his fingers into me hard and with purpose. His knuckles grinding roughly against my pelvis.
My hips start lifting off the mattress, tempting him to push his fingers into me, deeper. I need more. Knowing me as well as he does, he pulls his hand away, then abruptly fills me again. Knowing he has all four fingers buried inside my cunt does weird things to my head. I feel my pussy gush over his hand and hear him moan in response. His eyes are glued to the apex between my thighs. His four fingers encased by my wet channel.
“Think you can take more? Think I can fit all of it inside your gorgeous cunny?”
I can’t do anything but moan, which turns to groans as I feel his thumb line up with my entrance. Slowly, he pushes his hand forward, rubbing my clit in tight circles to keep my arousal on high and the juices flowing. Pushing a little more, I feel the heal of his hand pressing against my entrance, and I push against him, the claiming of his fist becoming my personal ambition. The pressure is exquisite. The growing stretch filling me with desire. When I think I can’t take anymore, his hand starts to slide inside. Slowly at first, then suddenly I’m full.
Pausing in his movements, he looks at me. “Look at this beauty. My hand fully inside your cunt. Your body covered in sweat. Your eyes hooded and caressing me with that sultry expression. I can’t wait to watch you come.” He continues stroking himself, taking in the view. Turning his hand slightly, his knuckles change their position inside me and I know that I will not last long like this. The fullness and the desire to feel him move war inside me. I feel like I may be ripped apart, but the stretch is delicious and somehow I want more before he takes it away completely.
His hand shifts, forming a fist, his movements restricted by my firm flesh. I feel each ridge of his hand, the dips and valleys pushing all the right spots.
“Touch yourself for me. Don’t stop until you come.” His free hand is on his own gorgeous length, stroking gently, bringing it to its full glory. Placing my fingers in place apprehensively, I circle my clit and stop immediately, knowing I‘m close. “No, no stopping. Even if you come, you need to keep going. Again.”
Returning to my task, I circle my clit lazily, hoping to draw out, to extend the incredible sensation, but it’s no use. The heat starts in my belly and explodes outward. Filling my limbs with static and splendor. I cry out, my eyes squeezing shut. My hips thrust against his hand, pulling him deeper. I rub myself hard, reveling in the last waves of my climax.
As I descend back to my pre-orgasmic state, his hand starts to turn back and forth, in and out. The circular motion pushing on my g-spot, the thrusting pushing on everything else. I focus on his hand sliding over his cock. The head playing peek-a-boo with each caress.
“Rub that clit, beautiful. I want to see you come again.”
Moaning, I return to fondling my button. Pinching it and twisting, attempting to mimic his previous movements. His hand continues its undulations. Shifting my eyes, I watch his arm twist and turn, reaching for all the best spots, his hand hidden behind the stretched skin of my vulva, the other fucking his cock with fervor. The sight drives me over the edge and I come again, crying out loudly as wave after wave of ecstasy surge through me. I hear him groan and his seed lands hot over my stomach and breasts. Each pump of his hand covers me with more of the pearly liquid.
Slumping back against the pillows, I watch as he slowly drags his hand from my center. It’s glistening and pruned. His fingers release long strands of sticky come as he separates them. Placing his pointer and middle finger at my mouth, he pushes both inside. “Suck,” he says, “clean them properly. We have to get ready for work."
This story was originally published on my blog.