Masturbation Monday! This excerpt is from A Snooper’s Reward:
After waiting for everyone to retire for the evening, I creep from my room in search of some interesting observations. Imagining that the most likely candidates for the jewel thief will be Mrs. Hygate’s lady’s maid and the two housemaids – they have unrestricted access to her dressing room where the jewelry is stored – I target these keyholes first. The other lady’s maid is simply lying atop her bed reading. The two maids sharing Nellie’s room have already extinguished their lantern and gone to sleep. The cook is also asleep. The butler is sitting in his room reading and sipping wine.
The most interesting event is the action of the young footman. I spy Alfred kneeling beside his bed as though in prayer, but he is actually manipulating his male member while sniffing a cloth placed on his bed. I soon recognize the cloth to be one of my scented hankies!
A kleptomaniac for sure!
But, he doesn’t appear to be a jewel thief. I watch him finish his vigorous activity, and then tiptoe back to my room. After counting my hankies – one is indeed missing – I extinguish my lantern and go to bed.
With the memory of Alfred’s engorged manhood, my fingers soon find their way to my moist entrance. I am not going to allow this night – in a bedroom alone – to pass wasted. I slide one finger along my puffy lower lip – it is hot and slick. Then, with my eyes closed, I imagine Alfred pressing two of his fingers into my entrance. “Oh, you are so tight,” he says in my dream. Whimpering, I pretend to push his fingers away. “No,” he says and explores deeper. Two fingers from my other hand slide along my belly until they reach the boundary of my pubic hair. Careful not to touch my little nub – it is so swollen and trembles with a yearning to be touched. My fingers venture further and scoop up some moisture. Alfred’s imaginary fingers slip their fullest extent into my channel. They curl up against my front wall. “OH,” my groan breaches my lips and I wish I had thought to put a pillow over my face. But I can’t stop now!
The other two fingers find my clit and twist around it. My hips pump air as I thrash along with the waves of pleasure pulsating through me. “Please stop,” I beg my imaginary Alfred, “it’s too much.” But, he only makes a sadistic laugh and curls his fingers against my sweet spot again.
“OH GAWD!” Another shudder flows through me. “I can’t stand anymore.”
This time he adds a third finger to stretch my sheath. “No, I am not finished with you,” he says. My back arches as I buck wildly upon the bed. Gasping, the aftershocks echo along my spine.