Finnegan Begin Again Ch. 01

The alarm sounded, she turned it off, and just like she did every morning, she lay in bed, staring at the ceiling but not quite awake. Every morning was the same routine, one that she had started six months ago. Without even having to think about it, she knew it had been six months to the day. She had been almost looking forward to it, even without realizing it, because she had set this date subconsciously in her mind as the day she was going to move on.

Six months ago today, her lover had left her for another. They had been together almost a year, and she had never found a reason to think things weren't working out between them. He had been more experienced than she had been when it came to love making, but she thought that even there everything had been fine. The note she found on the empty coffee table told her otherwise.

Emily- You just don't have the passion that I need. Perhaps you should find yourself someone else, someone with less desire and excitement in their lives. That would suit you best.

She stared at the note for hours, trying to believe someone could say such things. Yes, she hadn't known as much as he did, and she didn't always enjoy it as much as he wanted her to, but there was something inside her that knew had he been better skilled her pleasure might have been that much more. Maybe if she had been more willing, he would have developed more patience, and together they would have grown to be better, more passionate lovers, but none of that mattered anymore. He had left, and she was still here.

She read the note every day. It was one of only three things of his that she had kept. The note, an old shirt he had left behind, and the first toy he bought for her.

She'd never been in a shop like this before, and part of her was embarrassed to see all the various dildos and vibrators and cock rings and things she didn't even know what they were called, much less be used for. She quickly discovered, though, that there was some part that was turned on by the possibility of it; what else would explain the suddenly wet panties and aching emptiness in her pussy. They decided (or rather, he decided for them) on a huge thick vibrating dildo, easily bigger than he ever was when aroused, that had an extra nub on top that, he explained, would stimulate her clit while the rest of it filled her pussy. She wasn't sure why they needed something like that and asked him as such.

"So I can be fucking you with something while you suck on my cock."

That was exactly what they used it for, him clumsily rubbing it against her pussy before fucking her with it, the whole time she was sucking on his cock, taking it as deep in her mouth as she could, until she would feel his balls press against her face. As she sucked and stroked him off, he became less concerned with her pussy until finally the vibrator would slip from his hands so he could hold onto her head while he fucked her mouth. Sometimes she came, most times she didn't, but lying there with him afterwards, she never thought to do anything about it herself.

That first day he left, she collected the shirt and the note and crawled into bed. She picked up the vibrator from the night stand drawer and was ready to throw it out, when something made her pause. She had never used it on her own, hadn't ever thought about it, but now that she was holding it, remembering it as an extension of his cock, she found herself wanting it, needing it, craving it. She flipped the switch.

Over the next several days and weeks, always first thing in the morning, she found herself getting better and better with it. Whereas he had been forceful with it, she took her time, letting the thick pulsating tip run up and down her labia at first. By the time she would part her lips with it her pussy would be so wet that it would slip right in like it belonged there. She found that she got so aroused that she could take it deeper than he had ever managed to get it in her. Soon she found herself cuming not just once, but five and six times, sometimes even surprising herself with an occasional forceful ejaculation of fluids. The first time that happened she was almost shocked, but immediately began laughing. She remembered once he had mentioned that there were women who came like that-squirtters, he called them-and she could tell by the tone of his voice he was disappointed she wasn't one of them. Had he only been more patient, a better lover, she would have been able to cover his face with her cum.

Soon she became more adventurous and daring with it. One time she turned it around, so not only did it fill her pussy in a new and exciting way, but now the nub buzzed her little brown rosebud, and she felt excitement tingle through her ass and pussy like never before. She had always said no when he went for her ass, never knowing that it could be this wonderful. Sometimes the pleasure got to be too much, and she would have to slip a finger in her tight little asshole, feeling it clench against her digit as she slid it in deeper. Another time, with one finger already deep in her ass, she slid two more in her pussy and took the vibrator in her mouth. It felt so good to have a throbbing member in her mouth and now she understood the pleasure of having multiple holes filled at once.

Today, though, would be none of that. Today was the last, and as such it would be just like the first. Laying her head against the pillow, her fine ginger hair surrounding her like a halo, she took the old shirt she kept the vibrator wrapped in and held it to her face. She knew logically that whatever fragrance of him that had been left on it was replaced by the rich stench of her own juices, but she knew if she breathed deep enough, she would find some of him. Draping it across her nose and mouth, she guided the vibrator down to her pussy with her right hand while her left played with her breasts, pushing them together, pinching the nipples, sometimes rubbing her pussy juices on her fingers before playing with them. As always, her tight little pussy hungrily swallowed the entire toy, and her clit sang with excitement. Soon, she was thrashing wildly, throwing her sheets off the bed while her hips bucked and flew and her throat screamed and screamed. She lost count after seven, but did not stop until she was completely spent, her bed soaked, her body drenched and her pussy sore and throbbing.

She lay there for a while, catching her breath before getting up and heading for the bathroom. She turned on the shower, but stopped. She didn't want to wash this away. She wanted to carry this with her all day. The though of other people smelling sex, her sex, turned her on so much that she could feel her pussy start to drip again, so she simply brushed her hair and put on some makeup before getting dressed and leaving for work.

She stopped at the garbage can next to the garage to throw something out. To anyone looking it seemed like no more than a pile of rags. She knew she would no longer need it.

Today, she would get a real cock.