Short Fiction,  Smut Marathon 2018

Clear Blue Sky

He had fucked her, quickly, bent over the pile of his belongings. Those boxes and that hasty fuck was the last of their life together, the last of her submission to him. She locked the door and turned to look at the sunlit apartment: it was hers again, no longer ruled by him, no longer the cage it had become. He hadn’t let her come, and now, in the wake of his slapdash orgasm, she was hungry for her own. She rummaged in a drawer for a dildo, curved blue glass, sparkling in the afternoon brightness. She pulled an armchair across the bedroom, stepped out of her dress and sat down to look at the view. The city moved beneath her like a machine, but her eyes were on the sky as she sat back, naked, exposed to anyone who might look. She spread her legs, her cunt sodden at the thrill of her own pleasure, of the exposure, of the way the sun felt on her skin. She placed her bare feet on the warm glass of the window and plunged the dildo into herself, pummeling her cunt hard and fast, hungry for the waves of pleasure. Her lips and clit were swollen and slick as she watched the blue glass disappear into her body over and over. Panting, she slapped at her wet mound as she impaled herself. Relentless, hell bent on taking back her orgasm, she began to sweat and moan, her own voice goading her on. With one final thrust of the smooth glass she came, squirting triumphantly, roaring, her face tear-streaked, the glass in front of her dripping with her orgasm. Shaking, she dropped the dildo and sank back into the chair. She smiled at the wide-open blue sky above the city. She was free.

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