Self Love and Wandering Imagination

Light Kink • Solo Play

This is a first-person POV gender/sex-free one. Light on kink including light paddling, the suggestion of dildo use with lube and an imaginary partner. 

• • • • •

I only get moments like this every once in a while. 

The front door clicked as my roommate headed out for the day, and I waited patiently until I heard her car door close as well. Saturday mornings were the only moments I didn’t have to devote to my jobs or social needs, and I could fulfill my own needs. 

The fan above my head whirred, rustling my thin sheets against my eager and underdressed body, and I held my breath as I heard her car kick gravel and left me to my own devices. 

I slipped out of bed and to my closet. A moment alone. Just a couple of hours. I’d have to make the most out of myself. 

At the top of my closet, pushed beneath fitted sheets and spare pillows, my fingertips touched leather, and I felt another thrill rush through me. The faux leather bag was simple, black, but in the dull blue morning light that filtered in through my window, it was the most beautiful thing I’d seen all week. Reaching up again, my fingers found the plastic shell of a small bottle of lube. 

I hadn’t had anyone else in my bed in years now. 

That didn’t mean I couldn’t create someone for myself to enjoy. 

Conjuring images of someone mysterious and stern, I pulled myself back into bed and unzipped the case with a fervor. I neglected to use the silver chain handles that were sharply cold against my skin as they jangled apart and revealed the contents. 

My toys were a random collection, but every item made my heart rush with excitement and memories of how good they made me feel. The rectangular frame of a paddle caught my eye, and I slipped it out of its band, eyeing the soft heart shape cutouts that were studded with silver. Sliding it down the length of my leg, I pictured someone else holding my hand, tightening my grip on it, and guiding me through the motions. 

The blindfold in the bag caught my eye, and I considered taking away my vision for this, erasing my room: but I wasn’t ready for it yet. The nonexistent figure in my mind slipped our hands back, allowing the metal and faux leather of the paddle to make a deliciously sharp slap on my thigh. Smoothing the leather against the mark, I hissed my breath in through my teeth and kept teasing myself.

Laying back on my sheets, I got lost in the feeling of the paddle dragging over me, smooth curved lines, exploring and dipping over my form interspersed with sharp slaps and smacks. My entire body was buzzing; my mind was lost in the sensations, heating up and yet covered in goosebumps from the fan still spiraling away above me. 

The person in my mind, kneeling between my shaking thighs, ran their hands over my chest, down my stomach, and lower: and the paddle followed. I bent my left knee, my heel found purchase pushing down against the bed, and the paddle flew hard against my sensitive and soft skin: my body ached with need. 

I was throbbing. 


If I did anything more directly, I’d be a mess in my own hands: I wanted this to last. I only got to enjoy this time once or twice a week, the smacks and moans would be too loud, and there’s no way I would gag myself without a partner. A sharp smack on the outside of my thigh immersed me deeper into the fantasy of this stranger, and I pictured them pulling me to the edge of the bed and teasing me. 

Their eyes would be deep and hungry for me. 

Their hands would be firm, leaving sharp and bruising fingerprints on my soft skin. I let my eyes fall shut and dragged the paddle through the liquid excitement my body was releasing before digging a line over my hip and navel and landing a smack where my bent leg’s thigh met my ass. 

Putting it off any longer would be torture. 

Grasping desperately, I grabbed one of my toys with a longer handle and flared base and slid some of its glass length into my mouth. Cold against my tongue, I licked and sucked it to heat it for my body. The shape of it reminded me of a sword or a wand, and it’s what drew me to it initially: but the rounded bulbs along its shaft were a heaven that made me keep reaching for it time and time again. 

Resting it on my chest, I kept the first few inches of it in my mouth as I got full use out of my hands. Popping open the cap to my lube, I accidentally dripped out too much, letting some slip down onto my sheets beneath me. I’d worry about that later: there were more important things at hand. 

Sliding my fingers between my thighs, my arms and hands came into contact with the brightly bruising and stinging marks the paddle left behind. My mind reeled on the first contact, excitement throbbing and bubbling to a head as I caressed and rubbed my excitement against the palm of my hand.

I had to stop. 

I’d come, and then I’d have to wait to amp myself up again. 

I needed this toy inside of me immediately. 

Lifting my hip off of my mattress, I pressed my fingers inside of myself, unable to focus on anything besides the pushing of each knuckle. My ring and middle finger did most of the work, pistoning inside of me as my hips started to rock along with the motion. The glass dildo was hot on my tongue now. 

I slid it from my mouth and slicked more of the lube from my fingertips onto its shaft using my free hand. The person I was imagining seemed pleased with this, and as I pulled my fingers out of myself, I throbbed for them to push the toy into me.

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