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I’m not sure if this is allowed, but this is a second entry to Exhibit A’s Song Lyric Prompt.
I may change the title (I’m terrible at titles), but this came from a combination of  Inhale the Anxiety and What’s the Point in Always Looking Back?
A little solo something. Now I need to get out of bed.

She needed not to think. To fall out of herself for a day, an hour, a minute. She sellotaped her poor, battered heart back into her ribcage and lay down on the bed.

The sheets were new, with no trace of the past. Turning her head as she reached under the pillow, she breathed in the new and unfamiliar scent filtering through her hair. New perfume for a new day, a new chapter of a new life. It was herby and wild, she smelt like the girls you see on the first days of festivals – fresh and untainted. Her skin flashed with goosebumps and her nipples stiffened against her pyjama top.

She had taken to seeing the positives in things, now the third week was nearly over. She was healing.

She was also horny and this had startled her, to begin with.

She found it curious she was so ravenous for pleasure, having thought she’d drained the passion from her veins in the rivers of shed tears since he’d left, but instead found she buzzed like a hummingbird and wouldn’t, couldn’t, daren’t be silenced.

It scared her a little that it wasn’t human touch she craved, – she wasn’t ready for her fingers to intertwine with any that weren’t his. Not yet. She didn’t want to live the fantasy, she wanted to watch, to greedily devour the perversions of others. She gobbled down porn clips and erotic stories as meals, snacks and afternoon teas.

With one hand on the suction toy she had been sharing a bed with for the past couple of nights, the other sought out this afternoon’s feast for her delectation. She sometimes felt as though she had no real control over what her fingers chose. Blurry amateur blow jobs, jerk off instructions even though she didn’t have a cock; lesbian gang bangs, voluptuous dominatrices pegging bound and panting slaves.

Today it was solo scenes – close ups of beautiful cunts, plump ones, compact ones, recently fucked ones with the dribble of cum still inside them. Her own cunt throbbed and prickled as the scene played out and she pushed the waistband of her shorts down, only to the top of her thighs so she could shove the toy inside and rev it up to three; the first painful jolts of joy making her thighs tense.

She used the elastic to hold it in place and fished out a smaller dildo; the third lover in this ménage à trois, slathering it in lube, with a slight pang in her chest as her palm slid up and down the shaft. She missed him. She missed him terribly, but soon enough her arousal overtook her, and she wriggled her pyjamas down a little further. The tip slipped inside her easily and combined with the relentless sucking at her clit made her growl. Growling was new, and grew deeper and throatier as the length pushed further and further inside.

She tried her hardest not to remember him fucking her; grabbing her hips and using her cunt over and over, slamming into her until she almost couldn’t stand it, watching her frantically rub her clit until she came over his cock and, triumphant, he pinned her down and flooded her with his come. She willed her mind away from the first time they came simultaneously, both orgasms fighting for dominance, half-dressed with ten minutes before the taxi showed up to take him home.

She pushed the power levels further. 4….5…..6…… Her hips began to buck against the toy’s powerful manipulations.

“I’m going to make such a mess.” She thought, gleefully. “I’m going to ruin these sheets. I’m going to look so beautiful and wanton and satisfied. I’m just like this woman spreading her cum-filled cunt for the camera.” She imagined kissing the pretty, peachy vulva on the screen, and it was that which sent her over the edge.

Her voice carried loudly over the sound of the woman on screen whose noise was more delicate, almost wholesome. Our heroine’s orgasm tore from her body, her cunt pulsating, her clit tender and shivering as she felt satisfaction dripping down over her inner thighs.

She threw the toy aside and her body grew still. The clip ended soon after, and the room was eerily silent. She stared up at the ceiling as the tears began to form and roll down her cheeks.

“Time. All you can give yourself is time.” she whispered into herself.

She wrapped her arms around her body, and allowed herself to weep.


  1. Another fabulous piece of writing. I love the way you made it clear that she’d put so many clever little changes in place. And please don’t take this the wrong way – I had to laugh – your protagonist and I choose similar weapons (!)
    You’ve just reminded me I need to get my act together and get an entry into the challenge.

  2. Lovely piece. I love that the rawness of emotion is reflected in the raw utility of her body. Very exciting words.

  3. This is so raw, but also full of wanton desire and need – beautifully done!

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