Westdale, Part 3

Mari woke up with a feeling she could only describe as a longing emptiness down there. 

Her hand trailed down to her panties, and found a gusset soaked through with her arousal, her vulva stuck and moulded to soaked through underthings.

And in the back of her mind, a fleeting memory of a dream of Cassie licking her, the echoes of an orgasm still running through her skin. 

Mari got out of bed, sat on the toilet to relieve her bladder, then jumped into the shower to clean off the residue of her late night passion.

She soaped up her hands, then let her fingers flutter between her swollen lips. She was still sensitive, but relished the feeling as she cleaned herself down there.

Mari had been hesitant to touch herself for pleasure, wishing that Cassie would take control of her sexuality, dominating her. But over the past week, she’d been nothing more than a friend. 

Despite the stories Cassie routinely wrote, revealing just how her imagination and passions stirred Mari’s soul and loins. How she wished she didn’t start the conversation with “I don’t sext.”

Mari’s regret consumed her mind, despite her hands mindlessly aiming the shower head at her sensitive bits. It’d been quite hard to keep her subconscious from drifting her hands down to please herself, her conscious mind wanting to be a good sub for Cassie.

And her orgasm, her first conscious orgasm since she resolved to be a “good girl,” shook Mari to her core. Her thighs shook and she struggled to remain standing, struggled to remember how to breathe, struggled to stay upright.

She sat in her porcelain tub, letting the warm water fall on her, as she regained her composure.

God, she wanted more!