Price $2.99
Approximately 5000 words
MF, masturbation

Excerpt from THE BASEMENT

by Madison Langston


Closing her eyes, Claudia reclined into the softness of the cushions and let the sounds of wind and rain remind her of another stormy night.


* * * *


Ensconced in the basement, storm sounds muffled by the insulation above and around us, we are safe and warm. Robert and I lie in bed, exchanging soft, lip-only kisses. The wind had killed our electric power, but rather than start the generator, a dozen candles provide our lighting. His hands apply tender touches to my body. Having done this so many times, the caressing fingers know the places and the pressure I like. His fingers even know the sequence I prefer the caresses to follow. They start their journey on my face―my lips, my closed eyes, my ears―touching, stroking, probing. As they move across my neck, they stop on the pulse there, verifying my rising excitement. When the fingers reach my chest, they stroke lightly between my breasts, coming close but never touching the more sensitive spots. I feel my labia begin to swell; I bend my knees and open my thighs, needing the fingers to explore there too. I’m impatient, and I squirm, trying to make contact, but the fingers know best and seek other places to stroke. They caress from my spread knees, along the inside of my thighs, toward my sexual center. Still bypassing my more sensitive points, the fingers travel across my abdomen and return to my breasts. They circle my stiff nipples, then pinch and twist the erect buds. Gasping, I push up, reaching for more.


Finally, a hand travels to my pussy, opening the labia, testing the wet, slick folds, exploring all the sensitive places. As the fingers focus on my clit, I feel my orgasm grow and know that very soon I’ll explode. While one hand is busy with my pussy, the other moves back and forth between my breasts, abrading the nipples, creating the erotic pain they need. As my lust grows and my orgasm builds, I hear a pounding in my ears, persistent, demanding. I’ve heard this pounding before, but never so disturbing, so insistent. It seems almost like it’s is coming from somewhere outside me...


Through her pre-orgasmic haze, Claudia realized someone was actually pounding on her front door. As she pulled herself from the trance, anger flooded her senses. She drew the robe around her body, covering her nakedness from the unknown intruder. Why was someone knocking on her door in the middle of a storm? No one should be out in this. She considered ignoring the knock, but then it sounded again, even more insistent. Do they know I’m in here?

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