Dripping: Stories of Raw Desire

I’m a w***e. A dirty little w***e… I crave to be spanked, spat on, f****d like a slut, and left dripping with c*m from my face to my boobs. But nobody knows that…Not my best friend or my parents. And certainly not my goody two shoes fiancé, who's currently staring at me with a wide grin on his face. “Liv” I heard him mutter, snapping me back to reality. “I’m sorry, what?” I blurted out, my face flushed with embarrassment at the kind of thoughts I was having , especially in a place like this. “Silly girl, where’s your head?” my mother’s voice echoed through the cathedral accompanied by her dignified chuckle. Where’s my head? I couldn't stop my mind from replaying that wishful thinking….me on my knees, a couple of d***s slapping my face. I almost gasped. Yes, that’s where my head is at. Father Benedict let out a hearty laugh. “Not to worry, Mrs Pembroke. I see this all the time in young girls about to…….” I blocked it out ... .or should I say I survived the chatter to the car, my mother freaking out about the decor and sweet Mark taking me out for lunch after I whispered a lie about being hungry to cover up the fact that I was barely present. I know what you’re thinking….She doesn’t want to get married. But I do….Mark and I have been friends since middle school, dated since 10th grade and as far as love can go, I love him. We were the perfect love story, and we could have remained so…if only I hadn’t…. “Liv, what do you want?” Mark asked, snapping me out of my thoughts again. My eyes darted over the menu, “Ummh, could you order for me. I need to use the restroom real quick.” I barely heard his response as I literally sprinted towards the restroom. Have you ever been horny? I don’t mean that little urge you feel when you’re next to a man you like. I’m talking about full blown crazy need for s*x. You can feel your blood dancing, your heart racing, your cunt wet and so full that something as simple as your thong grazing against your c**t is electrifying. It's madness, a disease, call it whether you want ... .It doesn’t change the fact that you have no control over your body, thoughts or actions. And the only cure? Take a wild guess. I stumbled into the restroom, picking the farthest stall before locking it and slamming my back against it. One hand found my blouse, slipped into it and found my boob….The other found its way into my mouth. I was panting, everything in me racing. And like any dirty girl would, I let my mouth welcome the two fingers. There was no time to explore my body, no time to close my eyes and imagine it wasn’t my fingers in my mouth but a c**k. Crazed, I found my way inside my skirt, then my panties and…… I gasped louder than I intended to, in a quick reflex my other hand released my boobs and clasped around my mouth. My ragged breath and muffled moans bounced around the bathroom stall. I couldn’t help but wonder what would matter more if I was caught. My awkward posture or the sight of my horny face and the sound of my fingers hitting the walls of my wet p***y. Fuck!! That was all the fuel I needed to work it harder. I didn’t care that my slippery music was now louder or that my hand had involuntarily slipped away from my mouth, allowing loud moans to escape from it. You should care if you’re touching yourself in a public bathroom. At least dignified women do….but like I said, it’s a craze. Yet there I was, looking absolutely nothing like a lady. Why don’t we have mirrors in bathroom stalls, that way I wouldn’t have to guess how disheveled I look. Even the thought of it seemed to fuel my s*x craze. My pace picked up, so much that I could feel my legs shaking from the effect. “Yessssss…yessss ... .please” I panted out loud, as I felt myself getting closer. And just like that, the fireworks exploded inside me, accompanied by what I could only describe as an animalistic growl. My hand slumped away in exhaustion….and my face? I couldn’t help the tiny grin that spread across it. That was….it was good. But here’s the thing about post nut clarity, it snaps you back to reality at once. And my reality was, I had a fiancé waiting for me at our launch table. Oh No!! The guilt hit me as I scrambled to fix my clothes properly before bolting out of the stall. Who the hell abandons their fiancée to masturbate in a public restroom? Olivia Pembrooke. I should probably confess to a priest in a town that no one recognizes me. I’m a sinner. I caught my reflection in the mirror, a sinner who looked…… Before the words could finish off in my head, a stall burst open. Immediately, a wave of panic drenched over me. Someone….someone was around. “My oh my!! Don’t you look freshly f****d” the woman’s voice cut through the air with a knowing smirk plastered on her face. I couldn’t run away, not looking like this. So, I stood there, wishing the ground could swallow me up. “I…I..”stammering seemed to have become my new skill. She waved me off, “Darling, we all find ourselves in these situations once every now and then. ” She added with a wink. My cheeks flushed in embarrassment, still I looked her over. She couldn’t have been a day older than my mother. Even as she walked away, you couldn’t miss the same elegance in her posture. Only, the earth would dry over before you’d ever caught my mother speaking so casually about s*x. My eyes drifted to my reflection in the mirror, again. I could see the desperation in my eyes. Today’s Wednesday, two days to my wedding. Two days to get f****d before I walk down the aisle……