power. I made little circles on the spot that always releases me as I went into a frenzy.
But the frenzy didn't release. It just held there, unable to get out. I was losing my mind. I have to come! The tension is killing me!
I kept at it, rubbing my sensitive head faster and faster with the vibrator. I brought my knees up, put two fingers inside me, and started fucking myself.
No matter how much I stimulated myself, I just stayed right there on the edge unable to come.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!" I shouted to the empty apartment.
I switched the vibrator off, sat up, forgot I hadn't taken my jeans completely off, tripped, and fell face down onto the floor.
If I weren't in such a state of abject horniness, I would have laughed. But this is fucking serious. All the pent-up energy inside me darted around my body trying to get out, but found no escape.
I managed to stand upright and pull up my pants. I went into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. Orange juice and milk stared back at me. Nope, neither were going to help.
I found some proper help in the far right cabinet over the toaster. I took out the bottle of Smirnoff vodka and poured a glass half full of it. I took a huge swig.
I looked at the clock. 9:45. Great. Drinking in the morning. Not a good sign.
I slurped some more vodka while pondering what to do.
I need to get off! I need to have a fucking orgasm or I'm going to start throwing myself against walls!
Let's think, Meghan. Let's just sit and think for a minute. Let's just sit and analyze the problem. Why can't you orgasm?
Because of him! Because of my mentor. Because he told me I cannot orgasm without his command.
But fuck, when I agreed to that I didn't think it would be like a fucking curse. That's it. I'm fucking cursed . How the fuck did he do this to me?
This is ridiculous, Meghan. There is no such thing as a curse. And nobody can really control you. You are doing this to yourself.
If I'm so in control of myself, then why the fuck can't I get off?
I took another slurp of vodka. The room started to look brighter and happier.
How about if I call him and ask him to allow me to come?
Shit, I can't do that. Hello, may I come please sir? Oh, thank you sir.
Is this what my life has come to? Me? Strong tough Meghan. Always in control. The future meteorologist who can always predict what's going to happen.
Now I can't even predict how I'm going to get myself to Atmospheric Dynamics II at 11.
Because I'm too horny.
That sounds so ridiculous. Why couldn't you make it to class? Because I was too horny and couldn't get off.
Not to mention I'll be drunk by then.
"Meghan, get a grip!"
Did I say that out loud? Apparently I did.
That's it. I'm calling him. Fuck it. I need to do this. I need a release.
I picked up my iPhone and was about to dial when I remembered I had never called him from that phone. I fumbled for the prepaid phone, my movements somewhat shaky, and dialed the number burned forever into my memory from the ad in the vestibule.
It rang eight times and went to a phone company message stating that the "subscriber is unavailable."
Shit.
I took another slurp of vodka. Glass almost empty now.
I dialed again. Eight rings and the subscriber is still unavailable.
I went back into my bedroom and threw myself on the bed again, closing my eyes.
I saw the faces of the people looking up at me from the street while I masturbated in the window. They were captivated by me. One guy's mouth hung open. Even the girls were intrigued.
I bet they wished they could have been me. It was such an amazing feeling. Such a rush. I had never felt so amazing before.
I felt so... dirty.
So deliciously delightfully dirty.
And it's all because of my mentor.
He brought me there. If not for him, I never would have experienced such a thrill.
My eyes opened and I stared at the ceiling. What am I becoming?
At that moment, the earpiece chirped to life again.
I sat up, my heart beating out of my chest. I tapped the
But the frenzy didn't release. It just held there, unable to get out. I was losing my mind. I have to come! The tension is killing me!
I kept at it, rubbing my sensitive head faster and faster with the vibrator. I brought my knees up, put two fingers inside me, and started fucking myself.
No matter how much I stimulated myself, I just stayed right there on the edge unable to come.
"Fuuuuuuuuuuuck!" I shouted to the empty apartment.
I switched the vibrator off, sat up, forgot I hadn't taken my jeans completely off, tripped, and fell face down onto the floor.
If I weren't in such a state of abject horniness, I would have laughed. But this is fucking serious. All the pent-up energy inside me darted around my body trying to get out, but found no escape.
I managed to stand upright and pull up my pants. I went into the kitchen and opened up the refrigerator. Orange juice and milk stared back at me. Nope, neither were going to help.
I found some proper help in the far right cabinet over the toaster. I took out the bottle of Smirnoff vodka and poured a glass half full of it. I took a huge swig.
I looked at the clock. 9:45. Great. Drinking in the morning. Not a good sign.
I slurped some more vodka while pondering what to do.
I need to get off! I need to have a fucking orgasm or I'm going to start throwing myself against walls!
Let's think, Meghan. Let's just sit and think for a minute. Let's just sit and analyze the problem. Why can't you orgasm?
Because of him! Because of my mentor. Because he told me I cannot orgasm without his command.
But fuck, when I agreed to that I didn't think it would be like a fucking curse. That's it. I'm fucking cursed . How the fuck did he do this to me?
This is ridiculous, Meghan. There is no such thing as a curse. And nobody can really control you. You are doing this to yourself.
If I'm so in control of myself, then why the fuck can't I get off?
I took another slurp of vodka. The room started to look brighter and happier.
How about if I call him and ask him to allow me to come?
Shit, I can't do that. Hello, may I come please sir? Oh, thank you sir.
Is this what my life has come to? Me? Strong tough Meghan. Always in control. The future meteorologist who can always predict what's going to happen.
Now I can't even predict how I'm going to get myself to Atmospheric Dynamics II at 11.
Because I'm too horny.
That sounds so ridiculous. Why couldn't you make it to class? Because I was too horny and couldn't get off.
Not to mention I'll be drunk by then.
"Meghan, get a grip!"
Did I say that out loud? Apparently I did.
That's it. I'm calling him. Fuck it. I need to do this. I need a release.
I picked up my iPhone and was about to dial when I remembered I had never called him from that phone. I fumbled for the prepaid phone, my movements somewhat shaky, and dialed the number burned forever into my memory from the ad in the vestibule.
It rang eight times and went to a phone company message stating that the "subscriber is unavailable."
Shit.
I took another slurp of vodka. Glass almost empty now.
I dialed again. Eight rings and the subscriber is still unavailable.
I went back into my bedroom and threw myself on the bed again, closing my eyes.
I saw the faces of the people looking up at me from the street while I masturbated in the window. They were captivated by me. One guy's mouth hung open. Even the girls were intrigued.
I bet they wished they could have been me. It was such an amazing feeling. Such a rush. I had never felt so amazing before.
I felt so... dirty.
So deliciously delightfully dirty.
And it's all because of my mentor.
He brought me there. If not for him, I never would have experienced such a thrill.
My eyes opened and I stared at the ceiling. What am I becoming?
At that moment, the earpiece chirped to life again.
I sat up, my heart beating out of my chest. I tapped the
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