This week’s Wicked Wednesday post got something moving in the recesses of my brain… “write a sexy story about a haunted house….” I guess it’s not so much a haunted house but the haunting of my brain in the small hours. And they say that truth is stranger than fiction but simultaneously that fiction is a lie. So how much of the following is truth and how much is fiction is up to you…
In the depths of the night, when all is quiet, my fumbling fingers reach beneath my pyjama elastic. I have but one goal and that’s to reach the dizzying heights of control. The daytime doesn’t provide the cover I need… it’s too loud, too filled, too lacking in boundaries. And in the night, when all is quiet, I can listen. I am able to hear what is said, let the other side of me seep out.
In the middle of the night, all is still, but I want more. In the depths of the dark, I reach for my clit, listening. Deep circles, spreading my wetness, not enough to get me off, but that’s okay for now. I listen. I wait. Fingers plunged into cunt, I wait. Of course I can frig myself off. Of course I can climax whenever I like. But this is different. This lets me make sense of the world, this speaks to me on a different plane.
They say we have five senses but when surrounded by night, I know there’s more. Pandora’s Box is cracked open and I know that there are things that call to my soul. I can deny them in the light of the day but now? I didn’t ask for this but I have it anyway. Gift or curse.
As I move my fingers, excite myself to the rhythm in the night, I know that I’m lost to my every day. My awareness is heightened, I’m on a different plane. Daylight is forgotten and night takes over. I want, I need. Slowly easing towards that edge.
It’s a hunger, a seemingly inexhaustible hunger. A sensation that isn’t described by stomach flips or butterflies. It’s deeper, buried within. It’s the clench, the call, the need. The part of me that completes who I am. Between dawn and dusk I put on my daily mask, the unique mix that makes me me, but in the dead of the night, that’s no longer an option. I am stripped bare of all of that.
It’s the call, the connection between my body and soul. It’s the wiring. Fingers plunged into cunt, I wait. I wait until I know what to do next…
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