(The following contains sexual situations that may not be suitable for minors.)
I keep waking up in the middle of the night thinking that something is tickling me, or that I have an itchy place that needs to be scratched, or that someone has called my name. I come awake slowly, only realizing that I am no longer asleep when I notice that my hand is already moving, trying to find the itchy place and scratch it. And even though I'm sure that someone has said my name, there's never anyone there when I look. But my hands are moving like they have their own plan, under my pajama bottoms, under my panties, my left hand holding my folds open while my right hand begins to explore what should already be familiar territory. Everything is sensitive, everything is tingling and quivering under my fingertip, but my hand is still following its own agenda; it goes right for my clit and begins to tease it out. My middle finger, counter clockwise, not very gently, because gentle is for romance novels and frightened teenagers. No, my finger (with its own mind at work), goes around and around firmly, decisively, commandingly, and as it circles I can hear a voice in my head start to talk to me. A voice in my head begins to hypnotize me as I touch myself.
"You know how this works" says the voice. "it's the thing you like so much, the thing we did the last time. Every circle of your finger makes you feel better, and the better you feel, the deeper you go. And the deeper you go the better you feel." It is a mantra in my head. The better I feel the deeper I go, and the deeper I go the better I feel. But the voice isn't done. "But that's not all. Because as you become more and more aroused, you also feel more and more giddy and out of your head, as if each circle of your finger was making you high. And the higher you get, the better it feels, and the better it feels, the deeper you go, and the deeper you go, the higher you get."
It repeats in my head and on my tongue until I can't remember where it starts or ends. The higher I get, the better I feel and the better I feel the deeper I go and the deeper I go the higher I get and the higher I get the better I feel and the better I feel the deeper I go and the deeper I go the higher I get and the higher I get the better I feel...I begin to lose track of the words. I begin to gasp in between sentences as my hand moves faster and faster. My body lies still, relaxed and heavy, but my hand and my voice and my breath are frantic with need and desire. I long to writhe and quiver, twitch and shake, but as long as I have the words repeating in my head I can't move anything except my hand.
And then the voice comes again. "I know you want to cum. And you know how to make it happen. You are in control, you have the power over your own desire." The voice is right. I begin to move my hand in the opposite direction, and as I do, I start counting from 1 to 20. With each number my arousal doubles, my hand moves more urgently, and finally my body is free to react as it has wanted to the entire time. My hips buck under my hands, my head digs into the pillows, the covers are thrown away as I continue circling and counting my way to orgasm. At 10 I start to beg myself to count faster, but the numbers continue on at that same steady and aggravating pace. At 15 I can barely count anymore from lack of breath, at 18 I am covered in sweat and starting to feel my internal muscles get more and more tense in anticipation. And my hand keeps circling, circling.
The voice in my head says "very good" but I don't hear it. I can only hear my own voice, grunting and groaning and moaning as my muscles spasm again and again. My entire body is caught up in it, every bit of me is reacting. The voice laughs softly and says "As agreed, we will keep playing this game until we tire of it." And the voice is gone for another night, but I don't realize it yet, because I am still cumming.