I do tease, I admit. I tease, I flirt, I'm flippant as hell (especially when flirting). It's a bad habit, I know. Should I stop? Eh... The jury is still out on this. But the other night, my teasing backfired but good, and for that I am saddled with yet another taste of frustration.
My satellite remotes eat batteries as though they were chips, or skittles, or some other inconsequential morsel. I had planned on a quiet, well-behaved evening, just me, the pets, some tea and maybe NCIS or Criminal Minds (pick your marathon du jour). I was all set: a quick dinner of leftovers, lounge across the bed, clicker in hand... and... nothing. In an attempt to be more environmentally friendly, about a year ago, I invested in some rechargeable batteries, specifically for these damn remotes. It seems as though I have to recharge them weekly.
As a consolation prize, I decided to play online. No internet porn was on the menu, I promise. Maybe a sudoku puzzle or reading the online newspaper from Quebec. Archaeology.org makes for a good, well-behaved standby. Maybe some quick chats, right?
While chatting with T online, I decided that a hot shower sounded good. I like water. It is sensuous, life-giving, both rejuvenating and relaxing, and completely organic. I told T I'd be back online in a bit, and I was instructed to recall details from last night (see! here I tease again!). And then... blip! O is online. Caving in to a temptation I haven't begun to comprehend, I say hi, we chat, the minutes tick by. Because I can't help myself, I announce to O that I am about to hop into the shower...
In the shower, I can help but think of both men, thinking of me, thinking of new year's day. Of course, I have my handy-dandy vibrators in the shower with me (duh! they're waterproof, of course I have them with me). I lay on the floor of the shower, prop my legs up on the wall. The spray of water stings my nipples, still raw and sensitive from Wednesday night, and my shins. As my flesh diffuses the bite of the spray, water rivulets trickle down, warm, to tickle ever so slightly across my pussy and ass. It reminds me of Sir's flail from the night before, just as it had touched the sensitive skin between my ass and cunt. Droplets of water roll over my tits, along my collarbones, down my shoulders. This is bliss, as well as can be found while alone. As I use the vibrators to get myself off, one, a g-spot wand in my pussy and the other, a bullet, on my clit, I imagine mouths on me, sucking, hands exploring, and that adorable black paddle stinging.
When I get out of the shower, I learn that T has been telling O about our night together, about Lesson One. Together, they tag team me, one in one chat program, on in another. O, an experienced Dom, tells me how much he likes to get Subs in trouble. T tells me how much trouble I will be in, I've called O "a shithead," and I am sassy. Very sassy. My plan to tease the two men, these two tigers - unspoken strength, quiet menace, beautiful grace in their own right - has backfired on me. I do not know if they were horny. But I went to bed that night, as horny as if I had not just gotten off in the shower.
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