Work Text:
Late at night holding your phone in one hand and your fingers pleasuring yourself with the other. Looking at photos of your best friend, Richard Harkness. For some reason it isn’t satisfying you the way it normally does. It’s not enough, you turn on your stomach wanting to imagine grinding on top of him while in missionary. Tugging at your pillow, you wish it was him, his small frame, and firm arms. You wish you could be kissing his soft lips, or feel that sharp smile against your own mouth. Your fingers were getting tired but you craved more, you craved him.
Still going on, pressing harder into your clit wishing it was his dick. Still not enough. You lift your head, eyes catching a glimpse of something. The notebook he gave you. He already wrote in it-but gave it to you after he suggested you start writing. You not knowing where to begin, he was hoping his previous words would be of some help. If only he knew exactly how he was helping.
Setting down your phone you grab the book from off your bed side table, and turning back over. Your moist fingers clasping with the cold leather cover; you could smell his scent on the book and all throughout the pages. Taking the book you place it in between your thighs, pushing it down on your clit, rubbing the curved spine against your wet folds. The texture feels different, it adds more to the pleasure though, so you’re not complaining.
Pressing the book into you more, you imagine his glasses off getting a full look into his bright puppy dog eyes. Imagining him whining and whimpering in your ear, the images mixed with the feeling of the spines book causing you to moan out his name.
“ooOhh ha-Harkness!”
Calling out his name you use your unoccupied hand to grab your phone and continue looking at his pictures. Fucking his book has given you something you’ve never felt before when pleasing yourself to him. You want to hear his cries, his moans, the sound your bodies make when grinding up against each other.
The cover of the book now sliding easily against your clit from the wetness, you could feel yourself building up inside. One more look at your phone, this time really taking in his face and body. The way his buttoned up shirt tightly wraps around his arms, that Jean vest he looked so good in, and his short curly hair. Everything you could get from the photo you take a mental screenshot of.
Setting the phone down you take both hands and really dig his book into your opening hard, truly thrusting it in. Visualizing his body from the picture moving, pounding deep inside you; trying to hit every sweet spot.
“FUCK! Oh RICHIE! Ooaah Richie fuck me! Please! I want you to fuck me so hard Richie!” You cried out. The book sliding deeper in and out as you plead. You can feel your climax building up, as you press harder. Your back arching whilst you clench around the book. The moment feels like it’ll last forever, until one more push pulls you over the edge.
White substances eject from your pussy, you could feel yourself squirting against the book, letting everything out at once. After a few seconds you just lye there with the book still between your legs, riding the rest of your high. You soon clean yourself up and lay back down, feeling a little guilty, about messing up his book. There were some stains that got on the pages, plus the leather had an odd smell.
I mean you shoved it up your vagina, you weren’t expecting it to smell like roses and vanilla. Most importantly you hope he doesn’t ask for the book back, you’d have no idea how to explain masturbaiting to him, let alone with his objects.