Chapter 118 A Solo Night 01

Chapter 118 A Solo Night 01


The second the apartment door slammed shut behind me, I knew tonight wasn’t going to be gentle.

My coat hit the floor. Shoes followed — one heel skittering under the couch like it was running from me. The date had been a fucking disaster. Cute guy, decent jawline, but he talked about his fantasy football league like it was foreplay. By dessert I was so bored my pussy was practically yawning. All I could think about was getting home, getting naked, and getting myself off until my legs shook and my brain went quiet.

I didn’t bother with lights. The Manhattan skyline bled through the blinds in bright silver strips, painting my living room like some expensive porn set. Good enough.

My fingers were already trembling as I yanked the zipper down on my little black dress. The fabric slid off my shoulders and pooled at my feet. No bra tonight — the thin straps would’ve shown — so my nipples were already hard, tight little peaks begging for attention. I cupped them roughly, thumbs flicking over the tips, and hissed at how sensitive they were. Hours of low-grade arousal had left me raw.

Panties next. Black lace, soaked straight through the crotch. I peeled them down my thighs and stepped out, leaving a dark wet spot on the carpet like evidence. Fuck it. I’d deal with the laundry tomorrow.

Naked now, skin prickling in the cool air, I walked straight to the bedroom. The full-length mirror opposite the bed caught me as I passed — flushed cheeks, wild hair, eyes glassy with want. I looked like a woman who was about to ruin herself, and goddamn, I loved it.

I dropped onto the bed on my back, legs falling open immediately. No teasing preamble tonight. I needed it dirty and fast at first, just to take the edge off the screaming ache between my thighs.

My hand slid down my stomach, fingers dipping into the slick mess waiting for me. God, I was drenched. Two fingers slipped inside easy, no resistance, just that hot, greedy suck of my own cunt welcoming me home.

“Oh fuck yes,” I groaned, voice hoarse in the quiet room. I pumped them once, twice, curling hard against that front wall, and my hips jerked up like I’d been shocked. “That’s it, baby. Fuck yourself like the needy little slut you are.”

Dirty talk always hits differently when it’s my own voice saying it. No shame, no filter — just truth.

I added a third finger, stretching myself wider, loving the slight burn. My other hand went to my clit — swollen, slippery, throbbing like it had its own heartbeat. I circled it fast, rough, with no mercy. My breath came in short, sharp pants.

“Imagine it’s a thick cock,” I whispered to the ceiling, eyes squeezed shut. “Big, veiny, stretching you open. He’s pinning your wrists above your head, growling in your ear — ‘Take it, you greedy whore. Take every fucking inch.’”

The fantasy bloomed fast. Faceless man, strong hands, filthy mouth. I didn’t need a name tonight. I just needed the pounding rhythm in my head to match the one my fingers were setting.

I fucked myself harder, wrist flexing, the wet squelch obscene in the silence. My thighs trembled. Sweat gathered in the dip of my collarbone, slid down between my breasts.

“God, you’re so tight,” I moaned, pretending my voice was his voice now. “Gonna ruin this pretty pussy. Gonna fill you up until you’re dripping me for days.”

My clit pulsed under my thumb. I was close already — too close. I slowed my fingers, pulled them almost all the way out, then slammed back in deep. My back arched off the mattress.

“Not yet,” I panted. “You don’t get to cum until I say.”

Teasing myself was my favorite kind of torture. I’d bring myself right to the brink, thighs shaking, cunt clenching desperately around nothing, then force myself to stop. Over and over. Until I was a whimpering, dripping mess begging my own fingers for mercy.

Tonight I wanted to break records.

I rolled onto my stomach, ass in the air, knees spread wide, a better angle. I reached back between my legs, fingers sliding through the slick folds, painting wetness up to my clit again. My face pressed into the pillow, muffling the moans as I rocked back onto my hand.

“Fuck, look at you,” I muttered. “Ass up like a bitch in heat. So desperate to be filled.”

I imagined someone behind me — not touching, just watching. Breathing heavy. Cock hard and leaking while I worked myself stupid.

“Show me how bad you want it,” the fantasy voice growled. “Finger that tight little hole until you’re screaming.”

I plunged two fingers in my cunt, thumb pressing my clit, and then — because why the hell not — I let my pinky tease the tight pucker of my ass. Just a little pressure, enough to make me gasp.

“Oh shit—yeah, right there.”

The dual sensation sent sparks up my spine. I pushed the tip of my pinky inside, barely, and my whole body clenched. A fresh gush of wetness coated my hand.

“You like that, don’t you?” I taunted myself. “Dirty girl. Want something in both holes, don’t you? Want to be stuffed full until you can’t think.”

I worked my fingers faster, sloppy now, chasing that high. My free hand grabbed a fistful of sheet, knuckles white. The bed creaked under my rocking hips.

I was right there again — hovering on the edge, muscles fluttering, breath hitching.

“Fuck—fuck—don’t you dare cum yet,” I snarled. “Hold it. Hold it, you greedy bitch.”

I yanked my hand away completely. Cold air hit my soaked pussy and I whined — actual pathetic whine — into the pillow.

My whole body was shaking. Pulse pounding in my clit, my cunt clenching on nothing, begging.

I flipped onto my back again, chest heaving, sweat slicked my skin, and hair stuck to my neck.

I wasn’t done. Not even fucking close.

Reaching into the nightstand drawer, I pulled out my favorite toy — thick, curved, purple silicone, ridged just enough to make me see stars. I didn’t bother with lube; I was dripping enough for three people.

I dragged the head through my folds, coating it, teasing my entrance.

“You want this?” I murmured, voice wrecked. “Want to be fucked stupid?”

I pushed the tip inside slowly. Letting myself feel every ridge stretching me.

“Fuck yes,” I breathed. “Fill me up. Stretch this slutty little cunt.”

One long, steady thrust and it was buried to the hilt. The curve hit my G-spot perfectly. My eyes rolled back.

I started slowly, with long, dragging strokes that made my toes curl. Then faster. Harder. The wet slap of silicone against skin filled the room.

“That’s it—take it—fucking take it,” I chanted. “You love being used, don’t you? Love being a dripping, cock-hungry mess.”

My other hand flew to my clit again, rubbing frantic circles. Pressure built fast, too fast.

I was going to cum. No stopping it this time.

My hips bucked wildly, thighs clamped around my hand, and the toy slammed deep with every thrust.

“Come on, baby,” I gasped. “Cum all over this fat cock. Soak it. Make a fucking mess.”

The orgasm hit like a freight train. My whole body seized, my back arching off the bed. A raw, broken cry tore out of my throat as my cunt clamped down hard, pulsing, gushing around the toy. Wave after wave of pleasure ripped through me, thighs trembling, vision whiting out.

I rode it, grinding down, milking every last shudder until I collapsed, boneless, gasping.

The toy was still inside me, twitching with my aftershocks.

I didn’t pull it out, not yet. Because even wrecked and shaking, I could already feel the next wave building low in my belly.

One wasn’t enough tonight, not even fucking close.

I licked my dry lips, tasting my lipgloss and sweat. And smiled into the dark.