*
A restless Holly tossed and turned in her sheets. She ought to have been tired after the full-on day, but sleep was the last thing on her mind. She opened her eyes and looked up into the blackness, accepting that all efforts in pursuit of slumber were pointless.
She knew what was keeping her up, and as she allowed thoughts of earlier in the day to blossom, her hand wandered under the hem of her nightie. A shudder rippled through her as she grazed her panties, the damp cotton leaving a guilty residue on her fingers.
She slipped off her underwear and explored, parting the petals of her flesh. With her right hand massaging her clit, she reached under the bed with her left, retrieving Tom’s gift. She hadn’t touched it since dinner, so it was still awash with her cum. The thought only turned her on as she ran the head over her swollen mound.
Holly threw the duvet back, finding the air cool against the moisture of her pussy. She bit her lip, stifling a pine as she pushed the dildo inside her without resistance. She was shocked at the ease with which it filled her; her body horny with thoughts of her nephew.
When the initial pleasure of a filled pussy had passed, she lay her head back on the pillow in anti-climax. Her self-love wasn’t living up to that bestowed by Tom, and she languished with the dildo inside her in a state of frustration.
She looked towards the door, wondering about Tom lying a couple of rooms down the hall. Was he awake, touching himself to thoughts of her; or was he sound asleep and indifferent, satisfied with just a one-time forbidden encounter?
She had to find out. Getting out of bed, she left her room and crept along the landing towards Tom’s room at the end of the hall. Pulling the handle as quietly as she could, she slipped into his room and closed the door behind her. All was dark, quiet, and still; her fantasy of his midnight arousal for her could not have been further from the reality.
It left her with a pang of disappointment, but that gradually became anticipation as she tiptoed to the foot of his bed. His faint breathing, rhythmic and slow, was all that disturbed the silence.
Imagining his peaceful face, Holly wondered whether she should be doing this, but then had a defiant thought. He bought me a dildo, for God’s sake; if he disapproves of this, he’s throwing stones in a pretty fragile glass house. Emboldened, she lifted the duvet and climbed under by his feet. He stirred, shifting his legs and muttering something unintelligible but, to Holly’s relief, didn’t wake up.
She crawled up past his calves and thighs, making her way to his crotch. It gave off a little more heat than the rest of him and, feeling his cock through his pyjama bottoms, she realised he was already semi-hard. Maybe he’s dreaming of me, she thought with a wicked grin in the darkness.
She eased down his bottoms, releasing an intoxicating pocket of masculine arousal that she inhaled like perfume. Although she couldn’t see it, she could feel his prick’s heat on her face as she hovered over it. Taking it in her hand elicited another shift from Tom, but again he remained in his slumber.