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You Touched Yourself Princess
~Lyra~
I couldn’t take it anymore.
Tasha was still talking.. Grinning like a girl who had no f*****g clue what it felt like to be ruined without even being touched.
She was leaning over the kitchen counter in a silk crop top, chewing on a pink straw while pouring Bailey’s
into her iced coffee like it was 10PM instead of 10AM..
“This party is going to be insane,” she said, twirling her straw. “Like..I’m not even exaggerating..Kehlani’s DJ is coming. Kehlani’s. And the bartender? Girl, he makes drinks that glow. Actual neon. Last time I blacked out after three sips. They had to carry me out like a dead body.”
I didn’t say a word.
She didn’t notice.
She was too busy hyping herself up. Pacing now. Pulling open drawers. Sniffing herbs like she was hunting for something stronger.
“Oh…and the weed? Imported. Hybrid strain. Not even legal. Jamal got it from some freaky nympho supplier. Apparently it makes your p***y taste like mangoes.” She looked back at me with a cackle. “Can you imagine?! Someone going down on you and being like mmm is that Tropicana?”
I forced a dry laugh.
My thighs were clenched so tight my legs were shaking.
“And wait, wait,” she said, holding up a finger. “That’s not even the best part. I bought edible panties. Three flavors. Cherry. Mango. Rum Punch. I was gonna save them for Valentine’s but f**k it. Life is short. Orgasms are shorter. Might as well eat ‘em off each other, right?”
I swallowed hard.
The slick between my thighs was turning into a mess.
“And I’m so f*****g glad daddy accepted,” she continued, oblivious. “I was so scared he’d say no.
I blinked at her.
She didn’t stop.
“Sometimes I think he lowkey thinks we’re all lesbians. Or like… bisexual witches. Which isn’t wrong. Honestly. I do want to f**k all my friends at least once. Especially if we’ve been drunk together. And b***h, you…“she grinned, pointing.
“You’re so quiet. I just know you’ve got some freak in you. I can feel it. Don’t act innocent.
My stomach turned.
I couldn’t f*****g breathe.
I muttered, “I need to pee.”
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You Touched Yourself Pr
She waved a dismissive hand. “Go pee. You already look high. Or horny. Or both. Want a brownie?”
I shook my head.
Grabbed my mug but didn’t sip it.
Walked out of the kitchen with shaky steps and my wetness sliding between my thighs.
I didn’t go to the guest bathroom.
I went straight upstairs.
To his room.
To his f*****g bathroom.
I don’t even know why.
Yes I do.
Because it still smelled like him.
Because the mirror still had the faintest streak of his steam.
I closed the door behind me and stared at myself.
Hair wild.
Face flushed.
Shirt sticking to my t**s like a second skin.
n*****s stiff enough to tear through the cotton.
My thighs were shiny. Literally glistening with arousal.
I yanked the shirt off. Tossed it on the floor.
I wasn’t wearing panties.
So I was bare.
Pink.
Swollen.
Soaked.
And there..on the inside of my thigh..was my wetness
I reached down and touched it.
Brought my fingers to my mouth.
Tasted myself.
God.
My knees buckled.
I slid down to the tile, legs spreading without permission. My back hit the wall. My fingers dipped low.
I was so wet they slipped right in.
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You Touched Yourself Po
But it wasn’t enough.
It didn’t feel like him.
I rubbed my clit in slow circles. Tried to remember the way he grabbed me. The way his breath burned
against my neck. The way he whispered like he wanted to murder me and f**k me in the same breath.
“You want this c**k, little girl?”
Yes.
God, yes.
I moaned. My hips bucked.
I added another finger.
Still not enough.
Still too empty.
240
I imagined his thigh between my legs again. That thick muscle grinding up against me while his c**k teased my entrance. That cruel, filthy smirk when he said…
“You don’t get it that easy.”
f**k.
My head hit the wall.
I rubbed harder.
But it wasn’t right.
It wasn’t him.
My fingers weren’t thick enough. Long enough. Mean enough.
I needed the way he gripped my neck.
The way he shoved my face down and said..
“Beg me for it. Beg me to ruin your tight little cunt.”
My body spasmed.
But I didn’t c*m.
I couldn’t.
I was right there.
Right at the edge.
And it just… slipped.
Gone.
My fingers fell away.
My hand hit the tile with a soft slap.
I laid there panting.
You Touched Yourself Pr
f*****g trembling.
Wet and frustrated and furious.
Because Damon didn’t even f**k me.
He didn’t touch my clit.
Didn’t eat me.
Didn’t even kiss me.
He just teased.
Just talked.
Just rubbed that thick, veiny c**k along my soaked body like he knew it would destroy me.
And it did.
He said I’d think about it all day.
He said I’d hate it.
He was right.
I curled onto my side, thighs sticking together from slick and shame.
And whispered his name.
“Damon…”
Nothing.
No answer.
Just silence.
And the ache of not being enough for him to stay.
The silence ate me alive.
I laid there like a f*****g ghost. Skin flushed. Cunt throbbing. My chest rising and falling with shallow, broken breaths while the taste of him lingered on my tongue like sin.
Why did he leave.
Why the f**k did he tease me like that. Touch me like that. Say those things to me. And just walk away like none of it mattered.
Like I didn’t matter.
I curled tighter on the tile. Nails digging into my palm. Thighs sticky with need and shame and the ache of a girl who had just wrecked herself for a man who didn’t even f**k her.
I didn’t hear the door.
Didn’t hear the footsteps.
I just felt it.
That shift in the air. That tightening in my gut. Like something dark had returned to claim what it owned.
You Touched Yourself Pri
And it had.
“Lyra.”
His voice slid down my spine like ice.
I jerked up too fast. My hand slipped in the mess I’d made and I caught myself with a gasp. My knees splayed wide. My back hit the cold tile. My body laid out like a sacrifice.
He stood in the doorway.
Still dressed from the meeting. Shirt black. Collar open. Sleeves rolled. Forearms taut with fury. Veins bulging. One hand on the doorframe. The other curled into a fist like he was holding back violence.
His eyes dropped.
He saw everything.
The open legs. The flushed skin. The sticky trail on my inner thigh. My fingers. Still slick. Still twitching. Still buried halfway in my cunt.
He didn’t blink.
Didn’t move.
Just watched.
My heart seized.
My mouth opened.
But he spoke first.
“I told you,” he said, stepping in.. “You’d think about it all day.”
I didn’t breathe.
“I told you,” he repeated, “you’d f*****g hate it.”
He shut the door.
Click.
That sound echoed louder than my heartbeat.
“And yet,” he said, slow steps bringing him closer, “you crawled back in here like a dog. And got yourself off on my f*****g floor.”
I whimpered.
He stopped at my feet.
Towering over me.
“I didn’t even touch you,” he said.
I couldn’t speak.
“And look at you,” he sneered. “Soaking. Shaking. Spreading your slutty little cunt for your own fingers like
you thought they’d ever compare to mine.”
He crouched.
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C
You Touched Yourself Pn.
Slow.
Calculated.
Like he had all the time in the world to dismantle me.
His eyes were molten.
Burning with disgust and hunger and something far more dangerous.
“You think I didn’t smell it,” he murmured. “You think I didn’t know you were in here. Pathetic. Wet. f*****g whining into the silence because your p***y missed me.”
I gasped.
He dragged a finger along my slit.
Wet.
Slick.
Still leaking.
Still fluttering.
“Did you cum.”
I shook my head. “N–no.”
“Why not.”
My voice cracked. “Didn’t feel like you.”
His jaw clenched.
“You’re right.”
His hand shot forward.
Slapped my p***y.
Loud.
Brutal.
I cried out. My back arched. My thighs jerked.
“Because your fingers are useless.”
He slapped it again.
Harder.
I sobbed. My cunt clenched in midair.
“Your fingers” he growled “aron’t think
You Touched Yourself Pri
“Open,
I opened.
He shoved his wet fingers in my mouth.
“Suck.”
I did.
I sucked.
Tasted everything. My own heat. His dried precum. The shame. The ruin. The ache of a girl who had humiliated herself without ever being touched.
He pulled them out.
Stood.
He unbuckled his belt.
My breath caught.
The sound alone did something to me. Something deep. Something ugly. Like the floor under me shifted and all that slick between my thighs turned molten.
I watched him unzip slowly.
No rush. No mercy.
And then he pulled it out.
I stared.
I blinked.
I forgot how to f*****g breathe.
Oh my God.
Oh my f*****g God.
His c**k was…
Huge.
Not just big. Not just thick. Not just long.
Monstrous.
My mouth fell open.
It hung heavy in his hand. Thick veins running along the shaft like punishment. The skin flushed dark with blood. Smooth and swollen and terrifying. The head was fat, engorged, flushed almost purple and dripped a strand of precum that stretched and broke, landing hot on the tile between us.
I was frozen.
Shaking.
My thighs clenched and all I could think was-
O
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You Touched Yourself Pri
That can’t go inside me.
That can’t fit.
That would tear me apart.
That would split me.
I was a virgin. Untouched. I’d never even had a finger all the way in without wincing. I was too tight. Too
small.
And he was massive.
The length alone had to be at least nine, maybe ten inches. Long enough that my throat clenched just imagining it. Thick enough to make my cunt flutter in fear. Not just around. Wide. Mean. Brutal. Like it was made for pain. Like it wasn’t meant for comfort or slow s*x or first times.
It was meant to ruin.
It was meant to hurt.
And I couldn’t look away.
My breath hitched. My clit throbbed. My p***y leaked like my body was confused–terrified and desperate and
soaking all at once.
He gripped the base. Slowly stroked it once.
I whimpered.
I wanted to run.
I wanted to choke on it.
I wanted him to force it between my legs and say don’t fight it, take it, take it all, take what you were f*****g
made for.
I bit my lip and moaned.
He saw it.
He f*****g saw everything.
My dilated pupils.
My gaping mouth.
The pure filth on my face as I stared at that c**k like it was my executioner and I wanted to die choking.
“You ever seen one this big,” he asked.
I shook my head slowly. Couldn’t stop trembling. “No.”
“You ever had anything inside you
“No.”
“Not even a toy.”
I swallowed. “I tried. Once. It hurt too much.”
He grinned.
And stepped steer
so what makes you think you cO ORA –
dla
1 looked up at his
Felt tears prick my eyes.
He didn’s Blink
“Then beg me to break you”
Royalty Writes
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