Crossposted from my main blog, as promised.
It’s Saturday. I have to keep reminding myself that it’s Saturday and that I’m perfectly okay to ignore the alarm until I can be arsed to get out of bed. Saturday. Day off. Not on call. Nothing to do. No-one to rush out of bed for. No patients to see, no broken limbs to tend to. Just me. Peace, quiet, and me.
I roll over, wrapping myself tightly in the tangled sheets. I haven’t had a day to myself since what feels like the dawn of time. You’d think I’d have forgotten the concept of relaxation entirely in the process. This is awesome. This is bliss itself. I couldn’t wish for anything better.
And yet, as I am telling myself that I’m pretty darn lucky for managing to wrangle a day off, and that I should take this chance to do absolutely nothing for the next 24 hours, my hand somehow managed to find its way to my phone on my bedside table. No messages, no missed calls, no evidence that anybody would have ignored that I was off. I wasn’t needed today. I was okay to take time to myself. Today, a lie-in something of a distant fantasy. I can roll myself into a duvet-fajita and sleep until the afternoon.
Which is why the fact that I’m wide awake and antsy to go at 8.13 AM is particularly annoying me.
Ricky’s not off today. Ricky’s at work, doing things, saving lives or at least learning something about how to save a life. He’s at work, doctoring about. Not naked in bed, wrapped around me like a koala, hard-on firm and reassuring against the small of my back. His warmth is still new, still taking time to get used to, but already I know that when it’s not there, I’m a grumpy sod.
A grumpy, sexually frustrated sod. His warmth is still new, his body is still new, and we’re still new. Still in that phase where your mutual sticky, hot lust for each other is like oxygen. Where his cock is a revelation – the thing that’s been missing from your cunt all this time. Where his whispers in your ear in the throes of ecstasy are your soundtrack in quiet, bored moments.
Goddamnit, Anna, you’re so fucking hot…
I want to go back to sleep. Just for a bit. Just until I get the energy to do something productive.
I’ve been thinking about being inside you all day… oh Christ, you’re so wet…
Relax, Triplett. Just take deep breaths, close your eyes…
Spank me again. Please, spank me again. Feels so good…
My hand’s let go of my phone. Eyes closed, I loosen my grip on the sheets and wriggle my legs free. I let my Ricky-soundtrack play as a guidance, as I spread myself open.
Open your legs for me…
My fingers lazily dip between my labia, trailing slickness over my clit. Images play in my head like a film – images of kissing his neck, letting my fingers run through the curls dusting his chest, lowering my head down to the curls surrounding his cock.
Breathe. Relax… remember how to relax, Anna? Do you want me to remind you?
I need no reminding when he’s around. His hands, his fingers, his tongue, his mouth, his cock… that’s how I relax. That’s how he makes me relax.
With two fingers frigging away at my clit, building up the pace, I reach for the bedside drawer. I need something inside me, something to draw out the pleasure while my fingers play away with my swollen nub.
Eh… so, I’ve got a little gift for you… hope you don’t mind?
The ELLA he got me as a present a couple of weeks ago is the first thing I can find in the drawer. I grab it, spreading my legs open further. The head feels cold at my entrance, but as I work it in – slowly, steadily, that’s it, good girl – I ease around it. One hand on the dildo, another on my clit. Watch my tension fade away. Watch me relax, my thoughts floating, my body turning liquid along with my cunt.
That’s it… good girl. Fuck, I adore you, Anna…
I’ve got nothing to do all day. No-one to worry about, no work to take care of. Just me.
The thought of it makes me grin, as my body hums with its rising climax. Just me, here in bed. Taking care of myself.
Over and over and over… just relaxing… Relax. Relax, Anna. You’ll be fine.