Page 40 of My Turn Petal
Am I a bad person?
Am I not deserving of healthy love?
Have I meant to be alone?
Will someone ever love me? Unconditionally? With my condition?
A few more lines fill the page before I put it away.
Droplets cascade down my chest. My palms cup my ample breasts, squeezing and massaging them to wake the yearning within me.
The longing to be touched by him, feel his fingers along my skin and his breath between my thighs is maddening. Be chased, knowing he’s after me, watching my every step, prowling like a beast. Until he finds me, pries my thighs apart, and dines on me like a buffet.
Unhurriedly, my fingers trail down my belly, tickling as they glide over my naval and drag up and down repeatedly along my lower belly.
Teasing myself as I do the same to my pussy.
Reaching closer to where I need it most.
I grab the suction toy and press it to my throbbing clit. The sensation of the vibrations underwater is orgasmic in itself.
I imagine Theo’s tongue licking me up all night long. I want him to leave no speck of flesh untouched. Be the conductor of my wildest fantasies. The tutor to nurture my soul. The only master poisoning my thoughts. The monster attacking my innocence. I want him all over me.
I bet if his tongue speaks all those filthy words it knows how to eat pussy expertly.
Moans pervade the room as a climax threatens to shatter my existence. The tiny seizures emerge within me with every convulsion. I drag the sensation as far as I can, extorting the sensual spasm as I gnaw at my lip.
“Are you thinking of me when you touch yourself?” a deep voice filters in.
Am I starting to hear his voice in my head too?
I open my eyes, and Theo stands in the doorway with a helmet on—not mine, his—and his bare chest stares at me too.
His hand slides down his abs, and under the waistband of his sweats, the trimmed trail of hair he slowly exposes to me leaves me breathless. Pushing inside, he grabs his cock and squeezes it.
The room feels small with him standing there, assessing, and memorizing my movements as his hand slips out of his sweats.
I open my mouth, “What are you doing here?”
“I forgot my phone here.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I was just checking if you’re okay.”
“Clearly, I am.” I retort.
“Yeah, I can see that.”
I can’t see any of his expressions other than the mischievous sound of his voice.
I put my toy away. “What’s with the helmet?”
“I think you’d like the thrill, so I got an idea.” He replies. “Nice switchblade you got there,” he points to the one I carry with me anywhere.
There is no such thing as too safe.
He paces toward me, his confident gate tucked in place, “May I?”
“Yeah,” I hand it to him.
He grabs the handle, and the helmet slants quickly to where my toys are placed as he sits on the rim of the bath. Dragging the cool metal of the knife on my thigh, “You like that?”
