The Lady's Name Is Croft 5 (Patreon)

Craig’s hand moved, the finger encompassing his bulge, then clenching around it. He adjusted himself, his eyes still closed, his lips moving soundlessly with the inhales and exhales that almost could’ve been words.

Lara watched, totally enthralled, while he rubbed his manhood. Then he yawned and stretched, before settling back into his pillow, hand still holding his groin.

Lara shrank back, only for a moment, then forced herself to open up the door and take up space inside the frame. Half-dressed and uncaring if he noticed her, if he realized she was spying on him. But also wanting him to stay asleep, to let her see more of him in this unguarded fashion.

It was not lost on her that this autoeroticism was much like what he’d done back in the sauna. Were memories of that episode flittering through his subconscious even now? Was he kicking himself for not pleasuring her when he had the chance? Lara found a smile on her face at the thought of that dream within his Scottish skull. It startled her, how fiercely her cheeks pulled with that smile.

The back of his underwear slipped down his body, showing Lara some of the curve of his muscular glutes. Then he turned onto his side. The waistband had dropped below the base of his cock. Lara could see the girth that continued down his crotch and pushed into the leg of his boxers. Even soft, he was hung. Lara couldn't see a prick like that and not want to see it hard, even if it'd already been shown to her. It was like a flaccid dick was personally offensive to her.

She reached into her robe, touching the trembling fullness of her breasts. Her nipples were tinglingly erect, reaping a gasping amount of sensation from simple contact with her thin satin robe. The pleasure of her supple body, alive and aroused, gave way to ecstasy flowing from her own touch. God, it was good to be turned on, and nothing turned her on like a big dick. The feelings in her chest shimmered down into her sex like the shaking of an earthquake.

Now she squeezed her breast, digging her fingers into the decadently plush flesh and feeling her nipple push back, its hardness stinging with feeling in her palm. She squeezed harder and forced her nipple down into the soft mound. Felt it try to escape with every breath that billowed out her teat.

Her robe had fallen open. Pushed away from her by the heaving of her body. She could not stop touching herself. The sight of this handsome, virile man had made her own flesh something she was addicted to.

His boxers slipped a little lower. Oh yes, she wanted to rest her head on that small tight ass. She couldn't imagine how good her masturbation would feel then.

Her hand found its way into her panties. Her touch ran over the pulsing aliveness of her cunt. Her pubic thatch felt like every contact conducted electricity, like sparks might fly if she touched herself firmly enough. Her thighs clenched with a burn like she'd been exercising them for hours.

Her other hand slid her panties down around her thighs and, with a soft but insistent rhythm, she rubbed her way from the top of her slit to the bottom and back again. Every inch of her held so much delight; she could barely keep her eyes open to spy more of Craig's endowment. He was growing hard! His body responding to the sex in the air without him!

Lara swooned with awareness of her own sensuality. She could make a man hard without him even knowing it!

The floorboard under her creaked. She hadn't noticed how quiet the room had become until that sound crashed through the silence.

She froze. Craig didn't move. Had he not heard it? Or did he know she was there and that noise had put an end to the fiction of pretending he was asleep?

After a throbbing moment, Lara decided it didn't matter. She had needs. What she wanted, she got. And what she needed–she had to have!

Her fingers attacked the wonderful problem of her lust, flowing aggressively from the arousal that dampened her mons to the source inside her. The walls of her sex sung with passion. She could all but taste how she would get off with that delicious cock inside her, assailing the readiness of her sheath. So big… big enough to stretch her out like a few measly fingers never could.

She winced a little, just from what her fingers were doing and the imagined fullness of Craig's prick. She felt so good, but she knew there was more that she could enjoy. Her greed tempted her, made her pant and sweat, but she refused to give in. The friction was as serious as being bound hand and foot.

Lara pinched at her nipple. It quivered, quaked, sent out vibrations that scored deep in her trembling body. Sweat slicked her body and most especially her womanhood. Everything that twitched with her excited slot was wet.

She could feel her clit getting harder with every stroke of her sex. She gritted her teeth to hold in her cries while the sensations became sweet torture; agony she loved to be in.

Lara could no longer keep quiet. Neither could she stop and neither could she let Craig know of her need, the need only he could fulfill. She would satisfy herself, but not here. Not where Craig could learn of his power over her. As long as he didn't know, it didn't exist.

She rushed to the guest bedroom across the hall. As soon as her back was to Craig, she felt more in control of herself. And she hated it. Her frenzy dimmed, taking away the heights of pleasure she knew were possible. How she hated to be denied.

But she still had herself. She stood in front of the sink mirror, taking off her panties but leaving on her robe. She liked the way it looked on her. She might not have Craig, but she would always have herself. The beauty that allured even her own eyes.

Her fingers worked at her cunt, driving her back towards her old arousal. She looked at her own gorgeousness in the mirror, then closed her eyes and recalled Craig's manhood. She molded her breast in her hand, stroked her fingers into her pussy, but knew her own hands did not feel anything like his would.

She didn't have any toys in this room but there was a hairbrush ready for whichever guest next stayed here. She dug it out of the bedside nightstand.

Damn you, she cursed Craig, feeling a momentary flush of embarrassment over her behavior. Not the masturbation; the fact that there was something she wanted within reach but she had to deny herself… it was intolerable.

But the alternative would give that man ideas above his station.

She stretched out on the bed. There was a flash of realization that these were the same brand of sheets as Craig was sleeping on. This was what she would've felt if she'd joined him in bed.

The handle of the hairbrush was not as long as Craig, but it was about as thick. She held it by the bristles and pressed the stiff handle to her gateway. It opened so fast that it all but sucked the makeshift dildo in.

She gave it to herself until she couldn't give anymore without taking in the bristles as well. Her pussy grew wetter, almost gurgling. Lara pushed the handle deep inside her body again. Dragged it out again. Faster and faster, trying more and more to satisfy her need. Her body shook wildly, almost out of control.

But not as uncontrolled as she would be with Craig.

Her passion overcame her prudence. Words spilled from lips that couldn't be closed. “Craig, Craig, yes, your cock is so good! I need it so much! Keep fucking me with it, yes, you're driving me wild! I want to drain it completely! I'm going to get every drop, yes!”

Her orgasm was close. Her body pulsed for it, burned for it. Her head jerked violently from one end of the pillow to the other. She was almost there. Every lunge of the handle inside her gave Lara more pleasure. She was so eager for it! The size, the shape of Craig's maleness filled her thoughts. She should've fucked the damn thing, but her climax was about to happen anyway, there was no stopping now. Who cared if she didn’t get off like he would make her get off?

As one hand kept the handle pistoning in and out of her, the other stimulated her clit. “There–there! You're making me do it! Fuck! Your cock is making me come!”

Her pussy became a series of explosions, bursting with rapture again and again. She took the brush out of her thrumming sex and moved it to her mouth. Tasting the delicious cream that she had not allowed Craig. It was the prize. Not a cock, not at any size. She eagerly sucked away all of how much she'd come on the handle.

“Who needs prick?” she moaned to herself, stretching out on the bed and refusing to think of Craig until she fell asleep… and her dreams took whatever shape they wanted.