Have you ever wondered what might happen if a girl with an unsatisfied libido was left to her own devices? Well…perhaps in Roxanne’s case ‘devices’ isn’t the proper word. but she does find a way to satisfy herself, if only temporarily. The story and author’s photo after the jump:

“Oh…shit shit shit.” he says, panicked and she sleepily removes her hand from his warm slightly stiff cock.

“What is it?” she asks, eager to continue with their foreplay.  Her vulva is warm and wet and as she rolls back on her side and lifts a leg her musky sweet odor begs for him to caress her.

“I didn’t realize how late it’s gotten, I have to show the room in fifteen minutes and I haven’t even cleaned up.”  Surveying the dirty clothes, dishes and stale, half full beer bottles she suggests canceling.

“No…I need to get the place filled as soon as possible, you better take off.” She sluggishly rolls out of bed and he promises to make it up to her.  She picks up a crumpled summer dress of the floor and pulls it over her head. In the same time he’s pulled on jeans and a tee-shirt and is sitting behind her on the edge of the bed.  She beds over to tuck her heels in sandals and he runs a hand up her bare thigh, his thumb brushing against her wet lips. Her skin tingles but he removes his hand and spins her around for a kiss as he stands. Pulling her close by her hips they share a frustratingly charged smooch before she lets herself out and he begins gathering dishes.

She walks out into the cool summer breeze which cuts the heat of noon, tossing her dress around her thighs, their soft skin gently brushing with each step. She muses about what he would be doing to her right now if it weren’t for the stupid appointment.  The feeling of her skin on itself becomes unbearable. Her swinging arms brush the soft fabric of her dress against her hips in an infuriating way.  Walking briskly along the tracks, sweat beading on the back of her neck and cooling in the breeze, her mind turns now to the good fucking she is going to give herself when she gets home. The breeze subsides momentarily and as she trudges along in the heat she becomes feverish. She’s behind an industrial complex and even the noise of traffic seems far away behind the warehouses surrounding her. She misses a board in the tracks and fills her sandal with gravel. Bending down to clean her shoe she’s engulfed in the smell of her warm sweating body and sopping cunt as her dress is kicked up by a lukewarm gust. She closes her eyes and inhales, the sun beating down on her hair and back.

As she opens her eyes she notices a small cluster of trees of to the right, a few dozen feet down the tracks. She keeps walking and peers over at them as she is passing. A small recess in the foliage is evident and she turns off her path to explore. Stepping into the cool shade of the grove she finds a little hidden space, littered with cardboard and empty booze bottles. She steps out again and checks for any signs of surveillance.

Stepping back in, her mind numb with anticipation, she arranges the scrap cardboard against a crooked trunk and runs a hand up her thigh as she settles herself down and closes her eyes. Her hand slides up the sweat dampened, peach fuzz covered skin of her thigh and along the crease of her leg and tender labia. A shiver rolls up her spine. She places her hand on her damp muff and slides her fingers down between her legs, her middle one gliding into her wet folds which coat it with her cum as she slides it back up and stops as her fingertip catches on her swollen clit. She sighs and rolls it with the tips of her middle and ring finger and she leans back and spreads herself open with her pinky and index fingers as she relaxes her legs and feels the sun peeking through the leaves warm her tender hidden parts.

Her mind races over her favorite fantasies and with her free hand pulls down the thin strap of her dress which reveals a supple breast and rigid nipple dappled with beading sweat. She teases and pinches her nipple thinking of her lover’s mouth and her wet hand works her wet clit franticly as her hips buck back and forth against imaginary cocks, filling her ass and cunt. The warm breeze has become the panting of lovers and their silent groans of climax tip her over into her own gasping finish. Her fingernails digging into her exposed breast, fingertips circling her clit mechanically as she shudders, wide eyed in the nearly indistinguishable waves of orgasm after orgasm that roll through her body as she takes in her desperate, dirty arrangement in the bushes by the tracks and reaches an unexpected peak of pleasure before collapsing breathless.

Her head tilted back against the gnarled trunk of the tree, she looks up at the dying leaves and branches. The smell of vagrancy, piss and old bottles becomes suddenly apparent. Wiping her hand on the inside of her dress she lifts herself to her feet and inspects her seat for broken glass or needles then turns and steps back out into the sun and continues down the tracks.