Self-Esteem

I looked myself up and down in the mirror:

The wrinkles on my stomach, the unkempt tuft of hair on my crotch.

My breasts were small. My areolae were pale. My nipples were stiff from the cold.

My complexion was pallid. There was a deadness in my eyes from my draining, monotonous lifestyle.

My dark hair was mangled from a night of tossing and turning under the covers, cocooning myself in my blanket for warmth.

I looked terrible.

I stumbled into the shower and yelped at the too-hot water searing my flesh. By the time I found the right temperature, the bathroom had filled with steam and the mirror had fogged over.

Shower

I stood in the shower for several minutes, motionless, until my body thawed. I grabbed at the shampoo and mindlessly massaged it into my scalp.

By the time I was ready to rinse off, I was awake enough to think... If only I had anything good to think about. It was Day 4 of my so-called vacation, and I had hardly left my apartment. My days were filled with Netflix specials and Thai food. My nights were filled with cheap wine and Thai leftovers. I groaned audibly. I turned the hot water up.

Motivated only by my immense self-loathing, I decided to put forth some effort. I grabbed my soap and lathered it up over my body. I grabbed my razor and carefully shaved my legs and underarms. Satisfied, I put the razor back on the shelf.

The water was starting to cool down. I turned it up again to finish rinsing off.

Letting the water wash over me, I closed my eyes and ran my hands down my body. I squeezed my breasts gently. They stood proudly, only because they were too small to sag. I ran my fingers through my bush and looked down at it. The dark curly hair emanated from my mound, invading my thighs and encroaching on my stomach.

I sighed, and picked up the razor again.

Pleasure

By the time I dried off, the mirror had mostly cleared of fog. I stood in front of it to check my work. Uneven. I missed a couple spots on my legs, and I wasn't sure if the lopsided triangle of hair over my vulva was much of an improvement, but at least it was a little neater than my previously unkempt bush. I could actually see the details of my own pussy. My puffy labia, my timid clit... It had been a while.

I stood in front of the mirror for a bit longer. The more I looked at myself, the more I decided I actually liked what I saw. Finally, I grabbed my lotion and began to rub it over my skin, eyes still fixated on my crotch. I massaged the lotion into my breasts. My nipples were hard. I pinched them and shuddered in delight at the sensation.

I moved on to massage the rest of my body, reluctantly leaving my nipples standing naked at attention in the humid air. I gently rubbed the lotion down my stomach, then around to my ass. I enjoyed the feeling of my fingers on my cheeks, and my hands lingered a moment, squeezing and spreading and scratching and stroking.

I bent over to put lotion on my legs. They were (mostly) smooth now, and I thoroughly enjoyed sliding my lubricated hands up and down along each leg.

I bit my lip as my fingers brushed along my thighs. I now knew the inevitable. I could feel myself getting wet. I continued to tease myself. A single finger caressed my labia, making just enough contact to be noticeable.

I quivered.

Smiling, I finally surprised myself by slipping in a single finger. There was an awkward discomfort as the bald skin of my labia stuck to my finger. Thankfully, my increasing wetness soon compensated for the lack of lubrication.

I gasped.

It was not an overly familiar feeling, having my middle finger slide in and out of my pussy. Of course, I had masturbated before. And I had fucked before, sure. I was too old to be a virgin. But I had a knack for landing terrible lovers. One-night-stands, long-term relationships. It didn't matter. They all failed to please me. I figured it must be my own fault, so I had given up for a while. I'd been living without pleasure.

I slipped a second finger in and dropped to my knees.

My glistening fingers now slid in and out of my entrance with ease. I licked a couple fingers on my free hand. I rubbed my clit. I began to sweat. My two hands finally found a rhythmic balance, and I let out a quiet, but passionate, moan.

Unused to this much attention, my pussy was incredibly sensitive. I could feel an orgasm building within me. My mind was empty of all thoughts. In that moment, all I knew was pleasure. Pleasure, and the steady pulse of my fingers as they massaged my pussy from all angles.

I came.

Unable to contain my orgasmic yelps, nor my shuddering body, I collapsed into a heap on the floor. In disbelief at my own ecstasy, I remained motionless until the waves of pleasure subsided.

I stood slowly on shaky knees and opened the bathroom door. I stepped out into my room expecting to be pelted by frigid air. Instead, I was caressed by a warm serenity. My heater had finally kicked on, and was happily humming for me as I lie down on my bed.

I passed out, momentarily satisfied.

Ecstasy

When I awoke, a gorgeous, angelic man was hovering above me. His otherworldly body was naked and glowing. His perfectly sculpted penis was erect. It emanated an intoxicating warmth.

Suddenly, he crashed into me, plunging himself into my delightfully sore pussy. Time stood still, and yet was infinite. I was at once myself and someone else, filled with ecstasy, yet aching for more. His body consumed me, filling my orifices and covering every inch of my skin with pleasure.

This otherworldly being took me and gave to me in every way imaginable. I had never before been fucked so well, so completely. My breasts, my nipples, my pussy, my clit. Everything was so fucking sensitive. A single pinch of my nipple was enough to launch me into an orgasm. It became impossible to distinguish between the end of one orgasm and the beginning of another.

He lifted my body and thrust into me, his cock perfectly filling my pussy. Blinded by pleasure, I clawed at his back and grasped his ass, holding on for dear life as he fucked me senselessly.

He owned me.

Suddenly, I was on my back, his fingers tweaking my nipples as his tongue swirled around my insides, reaching unhuman depths. In the next instant, I was gasping for air as fucked me from behind, his hands clutching my small tits. And then I was flat on my stomach, mid-orgasm as he pulled my hair and spanked my ass.

I don't know how long it lasted. Time ceased to exist.

All I know is that I was eventually overcome by the ecstasy. I passed out, sleeping soundly in my own bed. I was alone. The sheets were damp. But the room was warm, and I was exhausted. I slept deeply, filled with an immense satisfaction.

Mirror

Finally, I awoke. It was dark.

With a soft moan, I crawled out of bed and tenderly limped back to the bathroom. I flipped on the lights, and groaned at the blinding brightness.

Once my eyes adjusted, I looked myself up and down in the mirror:

The wrinkles on my stomach. The moistened, matted patch of hair on my crotch.

My breasts were small. My areolae were pale. My nipples were stiff from arousal and sore from being played with all day.

My cheeks were rosy. There was a new light in my eyes.

My dark hair was mangled from hours of making passionate love to an incorporeal manifestation of my own arousal.

I looked beautiful.