Friday, January 13, 2012

On the edge pt. 2

Yesterday's post left off with me in the shed masturbating, or more precisely, edging myself as per Miss H's orders. Our shed is pretty big with two large windows in the front but I was well hidden and none of the neighbors could have seen me so it wasn't as risky as it may sound. When I was done I went back inside and picked up where I had left off with my To-Do list for the day. It's strange to have that sharp switch from kinky to mundane go back and forth through out the day. One minute you're getting ready to do laundry, the next you're jerking to fetish porn on Tumblr, then right back to normal chores, all within the time span of about 20 minutes.

When it was the next time to edge I txted Miss H once more and this time it was quite easy, I was allowed to masturbate for fifteen minutes to what ever porn I wanted. Being inside already, I took up a good spot on the bed, fired up my laptop, and dove right into the frighteningly extensive collection of porn I've acquired. It felt really good, made me think of the "good old days" when I sat around and jerked off to whatever I wanted to, as long as I wanted to. Much different then now when my sexual side is controlled and run by Miss H. 

It's almost as if Miss H could sense the feeling of freedom I was enjoying by being able to touch myself with such reckless abandon, because not long after when it was time to edge again she wasn't as kind or lax with her demands. This time there would be no pornography to stroke to, instead her demands were simple. Choose any item of hers and use it to edge myself with. It could be a pair of her panties (only used ones, not clean), a pair of her shoes, anything I wanted, it just had to belong to her. Initially I was going to grab a pair of her shoes because, well, I have a huge shoe/foot fetish, but then I decided to go with a pair of her worn panties. The idea of that never really did much for me in the past but there's just this weird combination of loving the way Miss H smells and the humiliation factor of getting turned on by used panties that is starting to do it for me.

The soft cotton of her panties felt good against me and I took turns alternating between holding them up to my face to bask in them, and rubbing myself with them. The ever so slight perfume of her pussy drove me wild with desire for her as I laid there alone, wishing for her to return. But before to long my time was up and I had to stop, replacing the panties in her hamper, in slightly worse condition then they had been previously. Small wet spots from my precum dotting the inside. I didn't hear a word from Miss H again after that until later in the afternoon when she got home. 

"How was your day?", said with a slight smile on her face. "By the way, what's for dinner?"

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