Immediately after Brian left, I bravely determined to keep myself busy until his return.Immediately after Brian left, I bravely determined to keep myself busy until his return. And for the space of about five minutes, which was how long it took me to unpack my clothing and few belongings, that was all well and good. But less than ten minutes after he had left, I found myself sitting at the foot of the bed, staring blindly at the blank television screen before me, wondering what to do next. The sex-fog placed over my mind had hardly lifted through the mundane chore of transferring my stuff from bags to drawers, and so there was little I could think of that didn't somehow involve masturbating myself silly. I literally ached with pent-up fuck lust, and my pussy was noticeably throbbing in protest. But as much as I craved release, simply the thought of having my appetite satisfied by Brian's hot cock made the thought of being satisfied by my fingers, well, unsatisfactory. I was determined to wait this one out, and I was sure the results would be rewarding. However, that did not alleviate the present problem of how to occupy my time. Finally, I heaved a big sigh and dug the book I had been reading on the plane out of my bag, flopped stomach-first down onto the bed, and tried to interest myself in the plot. For a while it seemed to be working. The book was a spy thriller, one that I had picked up at the airport before I had left, written by some author I had never heard of. The characters were likeable, the story line interesting, and with only a monumental effort, I was able to turn my attention from my rampant pussy to the book. |