Sasha

Sasha was so aroused she could not continue on. Her lover, Francisco, was not responding to her messages fast enough. It was snowing and shut in all day, all she could think about was putting on some sexy leggings for him and a long necklace draped over her torso and him sliding naked into her bed and putting his hands all over her.

She wanted his fingers in her wet crotch and mostly she wanted to KNOW he was on his way over. The uncertainty was uncomfortable as she was too delirious with desire to do her homework or clean up her room or even drink her apple juice. She wanted only one thing.

Girls are like this. They want only one thing. It’s not so wrong to want only one thing. Most animals do. It’s disturbing when people don’t want that thing, Sasha pondered.

Sasha was a cute girl, short and curvy with perky boobs. She was a horny girl and could have 10, 20, even 30 orgasms at a time. In fact, having only one could put her into a tailspin of desire that even her very well used vibrator could barely resolve.

Sasha loved her breasts. She loved to fondle them and especially when Francisco would touch them and suck them. She also loved that Francisco wanted her so badly- like the last time he came over his dick was sticking out of his boxers before he even got into her bed, before he even touched her.

Her main issue is needing more orgasms- she wants to have DOZENS. Or at least 5 or 6 would be great.

Truth be told, as cute as Sasha was, she couldn’t find the right guy. She couldn’t find someone who wanted to make her have so many orgasms, who really cared about that AND who she could get along with.

Why does life have to be so hard??? She wrote in her notebook. She was lying in bed on her belly, knees bent, feet up and crossed, her butt round and plump in a tight red skirt. she pushed the pencil eraser into her lip, as if it could give her the answer, as if it could tell her why she had never had enough sex and seemingly never would.

Her toenails were painted maroon but chipped. She didn’t care. Her toenails hadn’t been clipped in awhile. She could smell Francisco’s cum in her room sometimes, when it got hot. It didn’t smell great, but she wanted him there. She wanted to know he was on his way.

Instead, she pulled a big slice of chocolate cake from her fridge and ate it in bed, belly down, leaning up on her elbows. the sugar wasn’t satisfying, but she needed SOMETHING to distract from her insatiable desire for dick.

If only she could have sex every day for an hour… if only…