Ruined By The Coby Twins

Solo Ride To Pleasure Lane 2

JANET'S POV

I expected this outcome.

The last two times I used the vibrator I'd cried myself to sleep after i failed woefully trying to c*m for several minutes.

I set the vibrator on the bedside table.

Useless buzzing piece of plastic.

I laid back again. Legs falling open on their own.

And my hunger for an orgasm left me there… naked, ruined and confused.

It had to be this night my fingers worked.

Only Desmond's c**k had explored the depths of my p***y.

But that was about to change because I was bent on cumming… massive c**k or not!

I started all over again.

My right hand moved back down.

My palm cupped my p***y in one warm, full press and I exhaled slowly at the contact.

Just held it there.

Feeling how soaked I already was from twenty minutes of chasing an orgasm that kept retreating deeper and deeper into my hole.

I began slowly. Fingers dragging across my outer lips in long soft strokes.

"Mmh..." The sound slipped out before I caught it.

The wetness was sinful.

My fingers slid through my folds like I was preparing it for something far more substantial than my own hand.

I spread my index and middle fingers apart.

Rubbed either side of my lips simultaneously.

My hips tilted forward seeking more friction.

I gave it to them.

The sensation shot straight to my c**t.

My thighs trembled.

My walls clenched around nothing so desperately.

Fuck!

"Desmond…" I breathed to the ceiling. Not a prayer. Just a name escaping a body that missed its handler.

My fingers found my c**t.

I rubbed my mound in slow circles and my c**t swelled immediately under my touch, pushing forward like it had been waiting all week for this.

My free hand gripped my breast. Squishing and squeezing it with so much pressure.

My n****e twisted between my fingers and the jolt it sent made me gasp loud enough to embarrass myself in an empty room.

"Oh gosh… yes…"

The stupid vibrator hadn't even felt half as good as this.

I went in faster circles. My c**t hardening.

My juice running down toward the sheet.

The pleasure climbed and climbed and tightened in my belly and I knew, oh I knew, this was going to be the time.

Except…

Nothing happened.

Just that edge.

My walls were clenching and fluttering with no climax to show for it.

The orgasm kept hovering just past my reach like it was waiting for something I wasn't providing.

My fingers on my c**t felt amazing.

But my cunt was screaming for something inside it… to be f****d.

Oh gosh, what kind of punishment was this?

I cursed Desmond silently under my heavy breath.

Craving to be filled, I pushed two fingers in. And my back came off the mattress.

"Fuuuck…"

Now that felt more like it.

The stretch of even two fingers was a relief so immediate my eyes watered… still nothing compared to the ramming of Desmond's fat c**k.

I began f*****g my fingers in and out in a steady rhythm, curling on every pull, my c**t still circled by my other hand.

The wet sounds filled the quiet room.

The slick slide of my own fingers in and out of my soaked p***y mixing with my breathing and the low sounds I couldn't stop making.

My hips took over. Rolling up to meet my own hand. The squelch of my fingers driving in and out was filthy and I didn't care.

Hoping for something better, I shoved in a third finger.

"Oh… oh s**t…"

My walls stretched around all three.

It felt full enough to make me sob.

Not full enough to satisfy.

My fingers worked harder. Faster. Curling inward on every thrust to drag against my front wall.

My c**t throbbing under my other hand. My entire lower body lit up. The orgasm right there. Right there at the very edge of…

Empty.

Still.

I was beginning to get frustrated.

I didn't even usually finger myself. And no guy had ever put more than three fingers in my p***y.

Even with his large fingers, Desmond had never been able to get more than two in.

No matter how wet I was.

Figuring mine were pretty thin though, I decided to add a fourth finger anyway.

And the groan that tore out of me was animal and raw.

My walls stretched to their absolute limit around four fingers. My thighs shook. My free hand abandoned my c**t to grab the headboard because my whole body needed anchoring.

I wasn't used to it.

However, I smiled naughtily at the realization that I was technically fisting myself.

"Please," I said to nobody. "Please, please, please…"

The orgasm hovered. Climbed. Stayed just out of reach.

My movement became awkward. Four fingers stretching me but limiting my thrust.

I couldn't get the angle. Couldn't get the depth. My arm was aching. My wrist, protesting.

I pulled my hand out.

The sound my p***y made when my fingers left was wet and slick and furious.

My walls collapsed around the vacuum, clenching and releasing with nowhere to grip.

My c**t still pulsed. Still demanded.

My whole body still wound tight with an orgasm it refused to release without the specific thing it wanted.

I lay there panting.

Staring at the damn ceiling.

My hand was wet to the wrist.

My sheets ruined.

And my p***y still throbbing like a second heartbeat.

Then my eyes moved to Desmond's side of the wardrobe.

The top drawer.

I sat up slowly.

And a memory surfaced from two months ago.

I remembered my cousin, Vicky's pre-wedding gift to me.

“If you're ever unsatisfied,” she said as she handed me the gift bag. “This will never let you down... I promise.”

Imagine my horror when I unboxed it much later after the wedding in my matrimonial home and what I saw was a dildo.

A massive wobbly, jelly-like replica of a giant c**k.

I'd hidden it from Desmond because it was an insult to his manhood and ego.

Well, that didn't matter now.

My c**t pulsed in agreement.

So, I got out of bed.

Because the dildo would work this time around...

I could feel it!