Restless Confessions- Spicy Audio Story by Salty Vixen

Welcome to another episode of Bedtime Stories with Salty Vixen. Tonight’s story is titled “Restless Confessions” Dear Sir, your finger has the lightest touch, traced across my sweet hip, the bone and muscle and all so soft skin with a hairs breath of movement it traced the line of merest sensation along a pathway well worn and well travelled, through an archway of shadow into a valley of warmth and passion my long legs pulled slightly apart in anticipation, the touch moved of its own mind as you watched from above.

Over the mound between my thighs, into a tangle of sensations that tickle your nerves and spark the heat within your heart, as it plunges into my sweet pussy, finding access in my lovely folds, the sweet nectar and the furnace of heat pouring from within me, deep within me, then a shudder as it passes all so gently over my clit rising to meet its touch, to accept its embrace, to welcome the ministrations of love and passion.

My skin trembles and back arched into the gentle but firm motion of this instrument that plays its instrument to only one purpose, total ecstasy and profound passions, unbridled waves of orgasmic bliss that ripple through me and it, as it continues softly, quickly, slowly, urgently and sometimes agonizingly slowly, tracing the contours hidden from most, but shared openly in this secret place that only we share.

Words of fuck, easy to write, I want words of action, will you fuck me, Sir? Let’s begin..

My body, my mind, they will not settle. And neither will the words.

They assault me, rush through me, as if they also know the frustration of this unfulfilled yearning, hitting hard the screen and the page, my fingers frantically typing, clutching like a lifeline the coolness of the stylus, the words screaming, outpacing, flitting through the fragments, details found then lost and overcome, darting from one page to another, too restless and uneasy to stay for a moment longer, to complete and realize the utterance forever twisting into knots my stomach, pulsing and glistening between my thighs, lingering on my lips and the tip of my tongue.

In the silence, in their wake, I look upon their trace, and all I see, all I feel is you.

You and your smile and the warmth of your hand and the sound of your laughter and the resonance of your voice and the minute round midnight your breath caught in your throat and your black gaze grew darker as I confessed on my knees the primal need for your blistering seed on every inch of my skin and deep inside my cunt and my womb, the intimacy my body craves through the day and its night, this fusion of man and woman, of you and me, this mark of your ownership, my possession of your hard aching sex, your name etched in my secret flesh with the force of your desire, with the roar of your body, with the very tremble of your soul.