Even though they parted ways a day ago, Sorrel was still on Lisha's mind. In specific, on the tip of her fingers as she stroked herself to one orgasm and another. The fantasies from Penelope's porn became less abstract as her libido mixed the two together, swapping Sorrel in for faceless dominating men and firmly shoving Lisha into the position of the one being bound, being forced to her knees, being controlled. Being able to remember how Sorrel smelled and touched, how her voice sent little thrills coursing along Lisha's senses brought a reality to her imagination and new edge to her orgasms.
She planted one foot against the wall as she lifted up her hips to her soaked fingers. Two fingers ran up and down her length, sliding through the slick folds of her sex before plunging into her pussy. She bit her lip as she moaned and strained more, pushing herself off the bed as her body craved another release.
A guttural growl shook in her chest as she mauled her breast with her other hand, fingernails digging into skin as she imagined it was Sorrel that was raking her instead.
The orgasm that she had been striving for finally snapped and a rush of pleasure and ecstasy tore through her senses. She let out a cry as her muscles tensed and she shuddered her way through the waves that assaulted her.
Her shoulders scraped against the edge, giving her only a moment warning before she slid off the bed.
With an inarticulate shriek, Lisha smacked into the floor between the beds, one leg still propped up and her fingers buried deep in her snatch as the aftershocks of her orgasm shook her limbs. She strained against the mattress until the waves of pleasure subsided, then slumped against the cooler floor.
She had to admit, it was a good day.
Over the hours, she had fallen in love with the idea of Sorrel. As a fantasy, the beauty was a trigger that set off endless waves of ecstasy.
But her orgasms quelled with the idea of making it a reality. Encountering someone was never as neat as it would be in her head, or on the page of Penelope's stories. It would be messy and push her to places she may not want to go.
She chuckled and shook her head. No, the imaginary Sorrel was as far as Lisha wanted to go.
Gingerly, she pulled her wrinkled fingers from her sex and sniffed them. The sweet and tangy scent was more familiar than ever before, but she couldn't force herself to reenact the scenes where she would have been forced to lick them.
Nor the scenes that involved something jamming into her ass appeal to her. Thankfully, Penelope only had a few stories that dealt with that topic but Lisha had read over them repeatedly in embarrassed excitement, trying to imagine what it would feel like to have something hard thrusting inside her rear but terrified to find out.
She let her hand thump to the ground and laid there, smiling as she let the sweat cool from her skin. After a moment, she arched her back to stare at the scratches that covered both breasts and her sides from where she was too aggressive while fingering herself.
Maybe she needed to calm down and take a break? Or at least ration her stories of Sorrel to prevent herself from overindulging and draining of them of all excitement. She didn't want to lose the ease that her body grew slick with the idea of being crowded against a wall or forced to remain silent as she was being fingered in public.
She still had weeks of the winter break and she needed her imaginary lover as fodder to keep her warm until the end.
Lisha rolled her eyes. “Fine, I'll stop,” she muttered as she decided to focus on something else for a while. Her eyes focused on her glistening fingertips. She could feel more of her juices coating her inner thighs and the dull throb of her sex now that the afterglow was fading.
A shower.
Food.
Then maybe find something else to do before she ended up crawling on the bed like a slut, bringing herself to orgasm until she passed out.
Lisha dropped her hand to the floor.
Something sharp and heavy jabbed her palm.
Flinching, she yanked her hand back but then looked over.
It was Penelope's summoning book. The forbidden book that promised hours of pleasure. She vaguely remembered picking it up from from where it fell between the bed and the wall, but it had fallen again in the throes of one of her many orgasms. Now, it sat just underneath her bed, lurking like a beast that also promised endless hours of pleasure.
Other memories came back, of the towering monster pinning her against the wall as he had his way with her. Her body began to warm again and she felt the familiar tingling as she got excited.
She shoved it away. “No!”
Scrambling to her feet, she swayed for a moment and then felt moisture clinging to her inner thighs. With the afterglow gone, she felt a little disgusting. Staggering to the door, she grabbed her robe and pulled it on with only a token effort to tie it up; there wasn't anyone in the building to see her prance around naked. So what if no one saw the damp hairs on her pubis or the glistening on her legs? Or smelled her pussy juices covering every centimeter of her body?
Lisha grabbed bathing supplies before opening the door. She turned and gave the room one last look, her eyes briefly focusing on the forbidden book. Penelope had been using that spell for a year and she was still getting off on the creature she summoned. There was no hint that she was getting burned out or losing the spark that keep the orgasms burning bright. Maybe having something animated would be an alternative to the heated images of Sorrel pinning her against the wall?
Her lips tightened as she considered retrieving the book.
Then she thought about anyone finding out and working through the horror of getting kicked out of school and being forced to return home.
After a few seconds of battling her will, she forced herself to close the door and head to the shower.
She could resist, she had to. She couldn't afford to give into the temptation, no matter how curious she was to see if it could make her orgasm for hours.