It says a lot that the only wank I`ve had since arriving in Essex happened over a week ago. And I sorta forgot about it. Yeah.
Not that it wasn`t any good, mind. It was just an odd one. I think my body hasn`t adjusted to the UK systems of horny yet.
Or maybe it has. I`ve been mentally horny for two weeks now, and I know just who to blame…
It`s the one who was on my mind when I lay down on my bed, Grey in hand. It felt odd to have that buzzy sensation back on my clit after a few weeks of… well, not having it there. I closed my eyes and let myself fall under the spell of my fantasies.
But it wasn`t that easy. I wasn`t used to this bed, to these sheets and to this new environment. Which raises the question : do new surroundings throw you off your game?
Fortunately, I had my perfect fantasy to guide me. Warm, big hands. Deft fingers. Delectable tongue. Yeah… you know. That.
The weird thing about it all was the sheer strength it took for me to stand up after the orgasm. I took a long nap afterwards, because I`m apparently completely incapable of doing anything without wheezing myself to death.
I`ve been on period-related horn ever since. I`d like that to be over so I can just go about my business like a normal pervert.
In the battle of Expat V. Wanking, I`d say wanking won. Whatever that may mean.