Selfish greed

[Cath]

Part 2:

Laying on his bed, fully clothed and looking bored, I stared at the ceiling. I was wondering what came to me. He wasn't there, only his uncle was at home. He knew of me, so he let me come it. He told me that my friend would be back in a short while, he was buying groceries. I hid my disdain towards him, I always held him for ruining what I had with my friend. I didn't want to wait in the living room, that would have forced me to spent more time with the uncle, and that was something I wanted to avoid at all cost. So I casually said my intention of waiting in the bedroom. He probably didn't care much either and shrugged.

I wanted to come clean, to share my feelings, and I was prepared to get a "break up" even if we were never in that sort of relationship. Killing time as best as I could, I checked my phone, scrolling through social medias, looking as bored as ever. Feeling too comfortable, I removed my shoes and put the base my feet on the bed, legs slightly spread and moving side to side in a way to shake off the boredom. Faintly feeling the smell of my friend on his bed sheet, it made me feel nostalgic. I closed my eyes, focusing on my five senses, remembering the image of my friend. His smell, his face, his laugh, his touch. It made me think back of our "smashing" session. I could recall how much I love feeling him inside of me, every inches of his manhood filling me, his throbbing member pulsating in my being. His way of dominating me, holding me by the ponytail that I always wore when visiting him, slamming his balls against my wet entrance. I remember buying one of those crotchless panties so that he could get an easier access to my welcoming slit, always being well lubricated for him.

Thinking about it made feel hot, and unable to shake this feeling, my craving for him was too much to control. Unbuttoning my blouse, I held my breast, fondling it, massaging it, kneading it while thinking of him. I wanted him. Sliding another hand, I reached for my steamy lips, already sticky, and with the easy access thanks to those kinky piece of lingeries. Biting my lower lip, I let out quiet moans, barely audible. I felt happy to realize that I still could get wet thinking about him, making me want to ride the dick that I was missing, that I was longing for.

If it kept going, I wouldn't be able to think about anything but getting fucked doggy style, even raw for once. The more I was thinking about the possibility of losing my senses made me excited. I didn't want to, I wanted to have an actual chat, I wanted to mend our wounds. But the more I focused on not getting crazy, the more I became crazy. My urges pushed me to punish my little cunt, twirling my fingers inside, rubbing my clit while pinching my nipple under my bras. I let out an audible moan and quickly opened my eyes, realizing that what I was doing was fucked up. I held my head with my hands, the cum on my fingers didn't bother as I was getting slapped by reality. I rolled in ball, wanting to become as small as possible. I had just masturbated on the bed of my friend, who I was getting distant of, almost becoming strangers. Only perverts, degenerates, and deviants would do such a thing. What was I thinking? Have I become some kind of slut? Was I being obsessive?

Despite being invaded by an orgasm, I couldn't help but find myself horrible, dirty, unlikable, even worse, unlovable. I began hyperventilating, tears rolling down my cheeks as became aware of how twisted I became.

They said that insanity wasn't unbearable for the ones who haven't realized that they lost their sanity. At that moment, I realized that I actually regained some, meaning that I was being insane. I was insane, and I couldn't bear the fact that was. Overtaken by despair, I screamed, as if doing that would bring me back to sanity. I screamed my lungs out, voice shattered by fear, despair, anger, and rage, all aimed at my pathetic self. Screaming as if expelling the filth out of me. Screaming as if purging out the monster that I became. Screaming to make me die, sending me to purgatory so that I could be judged for my sins.

That's when I saw him, standing in the door frame, hand on the doorknob. His look of pure surprise piercing my entire being as he caught me in this sorry state. My heart stopped when our eyes met.