Carol can't come (2014 erotic tale)

Carol was monotonous and sad. She worked, studied, and slept ... usually alone.

This was an exceptionally long period since she had her last contact with a man.

Although in her fantasies she liked to spice things up with women, it was men, dicks and muscles that she liked. She didn't even try to deny it.

One night, after her unsuccessful attempt at a first love affair with a cucumber (she forgot to take it out of the fridge before, and the cold below was not exactly exciting), she was entertained with her favorite massager, an old companion on lonely nights.

Shee had in mind the most erotic scene that occurred to her at that moment. Between two dark-haired men, she squirmed in kisses and snogging between them. The one in front, with short hair and revealing his black ancestry, had well-defined features and although he was slight, he was very strong and knew the exact amount of control that was his job to apply. The one in the back, long black hair, inherited from the indigenous blood, took her with care, hands with a soft touch, hoarse voice at the ear, bites on the neck.

She didn't even waste much time, it seemed, with foreplay.

With the lines formed, she soon found herself bent over, with her butt reared up and her legs stretched, delighting in the well endowed brunette in front. As for the one in the back, he had fun by squeezing, feeling, kissing and penetrating her hot hips. A fiery woman, she saw herself well served.

Everything seemed perfect there, but she soon jumped frames, and ended up in the lap, her brunette's cock just sucked by her red lips, going up, down, rolling around. She moaned as she tasted her other man, wet, soft mouth, letting it in and out slowly.

But Carol was still unsatisfied, so she went to the next frame, in her now anal intercourse, sitting with her legs spread wide, having her pussy licked, while holding his silky long hair in her hands. She wanted them both, inside, talking barbaric things in her ears, asking obscenities, thrusting.

She was served, our Carol, fully served, and there was nothing else that could occur to her, as the height of excitement for that brief stroll through her own erotic gardens.

But no, she couldn't come. Our Carol hadn't had an orgasm in a long time. There was no imaginary cock that could give her what she needed. Nor a real one that could handle her needs completely. Hence the prolonged drought, hence the irritation in those days.

After the cucumber, the massager and all her imagination left her empty-handed, our Carol decided that it would have to be one of the two, or she plunged into a night of sex with strangers to satisfy her needs; or she would buy a dildo, with a vibrator, that would satisfy her.

Well, just before bed, Carol concluded that she lacks time for a night of erotic bohemia, that between the final exames and overtime at work, it would take a long time to include a happy hour squeezed into the tight schedule. Or a cock into her tight pussy. But, well, she could find some time to spend quickly at the sex shop next Thursday.

She sighed, still with the last memory of her two brunettes and fell asleep.