Joyce's Delight

An autumnal morning with a slight chill in the air, softened by the glow of the sun at ten minutes to eight in the morning. Forgetting the liberation of a day to yourself, a time so sweet as to help you rule your own kingdom. Thirty minutes pass as the guilt sets in, life is always best when on a roll, that one goal, the passion set free, feeling so positive as the morning iced coffee gets poured.

Your calmness sets as the cleaner definitely did a good job, looking out on to blue skies across open green space with houses dotted about, the world just about coming alive. The past two weeks of work, 14 hour days, non stop, your feet only starting to not ache, you tear yourself away from the view to go and sit on the sofa, maybe a little too relaxed as you turn to lay across.

Making your way through the bowl of cereal, you finish off the coffee and feel bright, no grogginess here as you are, as if it were lunch time. You hear the rockery up your drive rustling, footsteps that sound ever so promising, before its suddenly close and a polite use of the door knocker gets you up quickly. Soon enough, you are cradling a box down your front hall and into your living room, placing it down on to the side table. Curious, you try and remember what you ordered, a quick think through your emails, hidden behind a mass of work correspondence, it hits you that you ventured to the naughty side of the internet, oh dear.

Laboriously sorting through the post, the parcel remains last, past all the correspondence and surveys, and that damned aunt Barbara who wont leave you alone, you feel a daring guilt as you go and grab the scissors to tear through the parcel tape. Slicing through the middle to seperate the two lids of the parcel, a suppressed memory comes back as a surprise, it all rings a bell.

Surprised by the elegance of the box, imposing an allure not invited, like an admission of past sensual joy, it has its chance to help you decide. A little curious, you slide the box open to see the impressive design, going as far as to excite you a little. You bite your lip autonomously, before a suggestive shuffle towards and up the staircase.

Adorning the double bed, neatly made and a duvet with soft fabric, you open the box completely, placing the box next to you on the bed, the matte cardboard rectangular cover beside it. You pick the toy up, its shaft, a treat for the g spot, feeling luxurious and flawlessly soft, the control panel designed so intuitively it should be illegal for the designer not to work for Apple. 

You press the most obvious "on" button, the toy hums at its lowest setting, you feel an excitement but a shudder pulse of guilt shooting up your spine, these things had never really been for you, sure to change for a collection of minutes. Both box and cover whisked on to the side cabinet, you get comfortable on the bed, the arousal constant and internal giggles take over.

Pulling your joggers down, underneath, a curvy figure and lace knickers, a sense of freedom as you spread your legs as you feel your nipples harden. Lust drenched as you pull your knickers from under you, past your bottom and pussy, only then you notice how wet you are. In one hand and they pull past your feet, a feeling of a day lost comes over you as you lay in bed, ready to make scenes worthy of hollywood movies.

Finding the perfect setting on the toy as your fantasies replay in your mind, that one sculpted guy who came to do the garden, getting sweaty as you rode his perfect cock, working as hard, on you, as he did pushing the lawnmower. The toy easily enters you, its vibrations as effective as they felt new. 

You feel flustered as your breathing gets heavier, the dream of your body taking every inch of his, sex that didn't need a reason. The toy hits your g spot with full accuracy and depth, your pussy a puddle of involuntary movements, dripping ominously as your inner urges take over. A daydream of loving intimacy, his skin against yours as he gets close with you nearing orgasm with an almost impossible level of perfection, and with that, you do.

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