At exactly 5:45am Lindsay’s day would start as it always did. There would be a high shrilling sound from her alarm that would pierce the quiet of her apartment. The sound would not gently nudge her into consciences but rather it would rip her from any dreams that still lingered in her brain. The alarm clock had served her well over the years but the abuse it had received in return for it’s dedication somehow seemed unfair. It had been knocked to the floor, bounced off of walls, buried in boxes, covered with books and clothes, and aggressively slapped for the last ten years.

On this particular morning Lindsay was deeply involved in a very pleasant dream. You see, in the dream she was laying on her side. Her lover was cuddled up to her from behind kissing her shoulder and caressing her arm. The lover’s body was pressed against her back with is arm under her head. She could feel the warmth of his body spreading across her skin. His chest was firm and his stomach nicely sculpted. She could also feel the hardness of his cock pressing against the soft curve of her ass trying to slip between her thighs and enter her body.

Her lover’s hand slid down her arm to her hip and continued to travel toward her stomach. The hand was hot to the touch as it slid down over her bellybutton and ended with the heel of his hand pressing against her pubis mound and his fingers artfully spreading the lips of her bald pussy to allow his cock free access to her.

His finger were making a feather light circle on her swollen clit and the tip of his hard cock was pressing against the tight opening of her wet pussy.

It was this precise moment that the alarm screeched to life shattering both Lindsay’s dream and any future the alarm clock might of had.

Lindsay raised her hand from between her legs and swung toward the alarm clock. She couldn’t see it in the darkness but she knew from habit where it was. Her hand made contact with the alarm in what could only be described as “terminal velocity”, for the clock that is. Both the small towel that was covering the number’s “lighthouse like glow” and the clock flew into brick wall. The clock shattered and fell to the floor. The remainder of the items on the small end table shifted and fell in various directions with most coming to rest on the floor in the small puddle of water that spilt out of her nightly glass of water that was on the table.

Lindsay was immediately awake. There would be no snoozing the clock and rolling over today. As she swung her legs over the edge of the bed Lindsay placed her hand on the mattress where her bottom had been. She felt the warmth of her body but she felt something else. Taking the quilt in her hand she lifted up to see a large wet spot on the sheets. She shook her head in frustration and covered the wet spot with the quilt. She would deal with that when she got home or, in what would probably be the real course of action, she would just sleep on the other side of the bed.

She stood up and stopped. Her wet panties were twisted sideways, the back had slipped between her butt cheeks they partially pushed down over one hip. The flannel night pants she was wearing were pushed down to mid thigh. The waistline hem of her camisole was wet and one of her breasts was poking out through the arm hole.

“Fuck! I’m so fucking pathetic. I can’t even get laid in my dreams.” She adjusted her night clothes while walking to the bathroom. “A fucking year in this city and I haven’t met one fucking guy. Not one fucking kiss, not a fucking hug, not even a catcall in the streets. I don’t care who as long has he has a fucking working dick. One night. That’s it.” Lindsay looked at her ‘just fucked’ hair in the mirror. It was twisted, knotted and standing up in ways she would never get to happen with all the haircare products in the world. “Long dick, great! Short dick, I can work with it. Medium cock, okay. Thick,” Lindsay stopped and smiled at herself in the mirror. Shaking her head up and down. “Thick’s good. Thin, ehhh.”

She pushed her flannel night pants down over her hips and kicked her legs to get them to fall to the floor. Then she pulled her camisole over her head and felt the wetness on the bottom hem brush across her face. Lastly, she pushed her panties down to her ankles and grabbed them in her hand. The were almost completely wet.

Lindsay reached in the shower and turned it on but nothing happened. There were some noises in the wall and some pipes banged but no water came out. She turned the faucet off and back on. This time a trickle of rust colored water came out.

“Fuck! I…fuck…dammit…how… what! Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Tears started to stream down her cheeks. “Why can’t things go my way. I wish I had five million dollars and a nice apartment with a working shower and a real kitchen and be able to take a vacation for once. I’d do anything to just get out of this crappy place”.

Lindsay walked into the tiny kitchen where she opened two water bottles and poured them into a small pot and put it on the stove burner. At least if she couldn’t take a shower she would have warm water to wash up with.

“Yeah, move to New York. Come to work at the Malcolm McDonald Advertising Agency. We would love to have you. The city’s a great place. It’s amazing,” Lindsay muttered in a mocking tone.

Lindsay washed up as best she could with the warm water in the little pot before dressing in a black pencil skirt and a pale blue blouse. A pair of heels and her hair pulled back into a high ponytail.

She stopped in front of the mirror and looked at the reflection of the pretty, slender blonde looking back at her. Smirking in the mirror Lindsay said to the mirror, “Well, at least you look good.”

Lindsay walked out of her small apartment and rode the old elevator down to the bottom floor. A young man rushed in front of her to open the door, “Here, let me get that for you.”

“Thank you,” Lindsay smiled.

The young man smiled back and slightly tilted his head, “You’re very welcome. You have a wonderful day.”

As Lindsay walked down the street she was completely unaware of the stares and catcalls that she was leaving in her wake. Unaware that the ‘fates’ were conspiring to give her just what she had wished for.

—— to be continued——

 

Stunning!!! Please oh miss please continue!!!
I'm feeling the frustration... Your desepate need!!!

Who will be the lucky fella to help you reach ecstasy???

(Waving madly and whistling at the goddess before me)

Pick me pick me!!!!!

 

She needs a BULL not the steer at her front door. Last week a mwf 35 brunette 5'6" 120# 34b with her cuck husband watching. 7 orgasms and squirting for the first time in one hour. She hit subspace...a princess by day a slut by night... Good start to your story

 

When will part 2 belong?