The Addiction

I know I have a problem Caryn told herself. She couldn’t stop masturbating. Why was it all of sudden she couldn’t stop. At least twice a day everyday, she would pull out her vibrator and fantasize herself into orgasm. The fantasies varied – some were about past loves, some were about total strangers but most of them were about him. He turned her so inside out that she could blink and see her heartbeat.

I mean he had good dick. Unbelievable the way he would flip her on her back, pull her ankles up and tease her just with the head. Damn, damn damn!

She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of thinking about him. She fantasized about strangers in a poolhall bending her over the table and hitting it from the back. And the buzzing went on. She fantasized about conductors on the train inviting her into the booth, while the train was stopped by a red signal. and the buzzing went on. in a bookstore perusing the cookbooks section. they lock eyes and go over to the art section whichis always empty. and the buzzing goes on. and then he comes. dick in hand with that smile on his face. he speaks and whispers are you ready girl? and the buzzing is so intense she leaves another wet spot on her sheets.

Caryn rushes home every night and the first thing she does is pull off her skirt, drop her panties, spread her legs and pull out her vibrator where it is plugged in next to the bed from the previous night. She closes her eyes and starts to fantasize. she occasionally wonders if her neighbors can hear her thru the open window but she doesnt care. all that matters is for her to relieve the burning between her legs. for her to come and come hard and come at least twice.

she is addicted, but not to masturbation. to that man, that dick. that big, beautiful dick. anyway she could get it

withdrawl is a bitch.

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