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Frustration


Fantasizer

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Frustration - Adapted from a story by  Oya Calor

 

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I'm sexually frustrated. Apparently, I’ve got a lot of options, but they're all so deeply problematic that I decided to hold out for a quality experience. See, I'm 35, which means I've had some years to feel how things go wrong fast, and stick with them anyway, and learn from my stupid choices.

 

 

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These days, I'm not in the mood for a one night stand. This is not to knock one night stands, because I am all for a quality one night stand. But the better it is, the more likely I am to want to turn it into a second meeting. Call me all-or-nothing girl.

 

 

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I jump in the hot shower. Letting the hot water run over my face, my neck, I close my eyes, imagining the heat on my body is the warm energy from a man, energy that can’t be rinsed off. I forget what it feels like not to want to rinse off.

 

 

 

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Walking around outside in my too-short shorts, not giving a fuck, my hair still wet, I am aimless. I feel like I am walking around in a giant dream bubble. No work for the day. I slow my stride as I realize my shorts are getting me aroused. Pleasurable chafing, I suppose.

 

 

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I walk around down by the water, rootless, too stimulated for my circumstances. I see a couple fucking in the dunes, just barely removed from view. I sit within earshot, on the hot sand, and listen to the wind hissing through their sounds. I sit down, not caring. I smell rain coming on.

 

 

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I can hear the woman moaning, using her "A" vowels all the way to the back of her throat. I can hear her tilt her body up to meet his. I can hear her nails gripping his ass. And I can hear the synergy between them. He’s letting the wind blow through too. I can hear him groaning like he wants to make a home.

 

 

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My hand slides down, over my stomach to my too-tight, chafing short shorts. I run my fingers along their ridges. I suck in my breath, and let my head fall back, to the earth. There is no one around. Am I dreaming? Or is this a real day? Are these two mutually exclusive?

 

 

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The woman is circling climax now. She sounds like she's on top, the way she's vibrating her voice. Her frantic song of trying, trying to make something that deserves to be made. I think maybe they're both married and cheating on their spouses. That would account for their third partner, the wind. But then again – I hope they're not.

 

 

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My hand slides into my underwear and I use my middle finger to press my clit like a button. Do I care about the pervert hiding in the dunes? I mean, the hypothetical one? Yes. Part of me is concerned, and part of me aroused. So I don't open my legs all the way. I try my best to maintain a less conspicuous pose, but quickly abandon that for the sake of pleasure.

 

 

 

End of Part 1

 

 

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