Another brilliant piece from a GUNNAS WRITING MASTERCLASS WRITER.
She sits curled up on the couch, facing the telly, her hand in her pants tapping at her clit. She knows she needs to get up and feed the dog, to take her for a walk but all she wants to do; is herself, too get off. She watches herself in her mind’s eye, there is a vacant expression on her face, she vaguely registers the images on the TV and as the pictures roll by she remembers the night before. In her element, sashaying into the pub, casing the joint, confident, arrogant, untouchable, she is in a world of her own greatness. Sam struts around the table and chairs and heads for the open fire savoring the sense of freedom and anticipation. She feels omnipotent as she checks out bodies and faces, listening to snatches of conversation, letting her body, her lust decide who she will take home this night. She is hungry to ride the wave, to be utterly out of her brain, to be both in her body and yet blown out of it, I would do anything for this, she thinks, this is such a good definition of addiction. The expectation, the thrill of riding that wave is a glorious feeling, the memory speeds up the motion of her finger. Her cunt is still swollen from the night before, well actually from just a few hours ago. Sam smiles. She wiggles out of her trackies kicking them across the room, giving herself better access to her clit that pulses under her finger, relishing the sensation of sliding in and out of her cunt, it’s a bit like having a joint after a big night of speed she thinks, a slow, crusey highly sensitive turn on, she laughs out loud as she pictures herself striding shamelessly across the bar, the bright yellow laces of her docs that she deliberately left untied. She has a fearless and curious way of walking and she swears she can hear the clang of her self-imposed cage door been kicked open. She reaches the open fire and commandeers a chair, she fills the space and breathes deeply as she lasers on to a woman’s laughter, she loves the unpredictability of what it is that will capture her attention. She gets distracted by the telly, there is big crash being played out at the Tour De France or as she calls it, the tour de phallus.