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For some time, I felt the natural instinct to want to be naked…I first felt the real thrill of an orgasm by squeezing a blanket I would roll in a bundle placed high between my thighs as if feeding it to my pussy…it felt wonderful that pelvic tilting sensation, and I knew in my Catholic world it was wrong…but I loved it… I would strip completely naked in my room and do some strange squatting ritual dance I’d seen witches in documentaries do, and I felt liberated in such moments. Then I’d take that bundled sheet and tuck it high between my thighs, spreading my labia, treating it as if it were a sex toy, and I’d lie on my stomach on the cold concrete allowing my ass to rise and drop in a motion of intercourse…it felt so good, I’d do it for sometimes an hour or two till I felt in me that tinkling sensation, of my eyes rolling up into my head…a strange type of high…

As years went by, even when I’d have sex daily with someone I was highly involved with I still loved this ritual…when he wasn’t home, I’d taken a fancy to watching cartoon porn, first then hardcore porn, and I’d lie naked on the living room floor on my stomach, with that sheet bundled up my cunt, my legs tightly together and my waist moving in rhythm as if I was fucking the ground…it was my secret stress reliever, but it seemed so unrighteous, so wrong…yet when I looked at any form of pornography that turned me on, I felt the need to satisfy myself, and somehow masturbating with my hand didn’t feel the same as the way I was tempted to do this weird thing with the sheets or with any piece of cloth… because the sheet held an unexplained temptation like a beautiful drug illegal bahis to me…and I never cared for drugs, but it seemed that such a drug appeased my tingling pussy…

I had sex on many occasions with one other partner in my life as I was meant to look decent and with Godly values, the school teacher type…I was always meant to be that ‘good girl’, but no one would understand, that as virgin like as I’d appeared , my cunt had strange ways…oh to me, the orgasm in sex was nothing compared to the buildup of my ritual sex routine with the sheets…

As years passed by, I tried to deal with it by just fucking my second mate more regular, he knew not of my weird interest, either and I would do this behind closed doors and feel horribly guilty about it…as if the sheet or piece of cloth I would bundle up, was another person I was having an affair with…

On my own to date, for almost three years without fucking another human, I would use a dildo but the experience was never the same…I would watch over two hours of various porn clips to reach an orgasm, but somehow lying with my bare breast and nipples against the cold tiles, with any sheet bundled up squeezed between my upper thighs and my naked ass rising and dropping in the coolness of the air conditioned room I didn’t even need to watch porn, I was fucking a blanket till it got so hot after I would cum, that I would remove the piece of cloth put it to rest on the floor and I’d warm the soles of my feet with it…gently rubbing them up and down the sheet as if ironing a delicate sheet…or pretending it was the back , or chest or ass of some hot man…

At times it would illegal bahis siteleri seem as if I had been doing this for ages, and somehow sex with a man never could give me back that same pleasure…whenever I fucked I did have the habit of wrapping my legs tightly around a man’s waist, or intertwining my legs like a snake with his legs, or tying my heels together above his head, if I was on my back-maybe I tried to make love to men like I would fuck the sheets…and always the soles of my feet were sensitive to many things, even more than my cunt at times…my soles of my feet, loved to feel the hot cum against my sheet, as I rubbed them one by one gently against it…

Yes, as I came closer to my forties, it was hard being alone, and horny as I was I would feel old and unattractive, most men that were in my age bracket were happily married and most men were more interested in gorgeous younger women…the reality was at this stage it would be best to find a young handsome male prostitute but, they did not exist in my part of the globe and the most thirsty men, somehow didn’t attract my chemistry…

So, on my own I regressed to the things that gave me comfort…I was never sure what to call my habit but I knew if even at this stage if I was forced to join a nunnery I’d find myself in a room there, fucking those floors with the sheet between my legs…I’d probably beat myself after, but I loved the thought of beating myself, it was a turn on to me too…maybe I was best suited to be a nun, I believed my mind was decent it’s just, my flesh, my pussy always needed to be fed at some point of the day, and sheets was always my original canlı bahis siteleri dildo, before bottles or cucumbers …maybe I never needed a man I’d tell myself after every orgasm …at times it felt like the bundle sheet offered more, and I was able to be in a different position, face down than lying back with my hand growing weary from servicing my own dildo up and down, because the vibration was not enough for me…at such times I’d think, maybe fucking the sheets was good enough…I wondered sometimes how though it would be to fuck a man’s clothes, a very sexy man’s clothes, maybe if I couldn’t get the man I wanted, I could steal his clothes and feed it to my pussy caressing it tightly between my legs…take his shirt and pants and underwear and bundle it like a sheet, take it till I cum on it…and I would think back about my plan to join some nunnery and that if I was a nun and there was a hot priest, I could fuck his robe, it might of been an enlightening experience…I smiled to myself.

I really like fucking sheets, or cloth it seemed, I mean I’d even fuck towels when I was seeing my period…so I could easily wash them after. At times, I would still feel like I was sinning badly, many times I knew my strange likes would seem abnormal to most, but sometimes when a person’s whole world has gone dark, it didn’t matter anymore what people could think…maybe I would appear hilarious, but most would say you have to learn to love yourself, so out of finding that love for me, I only wanted to find ways to make myself happy…and sometimes in my warped imagination I felt if those sheets could come to life and not just cover me, or warm me but satisfy me…

So I look at the thin yellow flowered coverlet on my bed and I know it is mine…later tonight I tell myself… my pussy already dripping with the thoughts of what I’d do next…I’d hate to think what cloth could say if it could speak.

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