She’s trying so hard to think. You can see her tiny gears working, in a futile effort to put together the words to express what she’s feeling. It’s all a blur now, all white light and heat.
Her words fail and her thoughts drift away into orgasmic bliss.
just like your brain turn off too, gooner, as you fuck yourself with your hand pussy all night, just like the good addicted gooner you know you are.
Three-prompt story: Serial Bimbofication, Accidental, Socks
I think I started feeling weird as soon as I put the socks on.
I don’t really remember why I borrowed them, even. I had clean socks of my own I could’ve worn. I had just done laundry, after all.
That’s when I had first noticed them. I pulled the clothes out of the dryer, tossed them in the basket, and headed back upstairs. I folded and sorted - one pile more my stuff, one for my roommate Kendra’s. I always did the laundry for both of us. I know most people consider it a chore, but I enjoy it. The smell of the detergent, the warmth of freshly-dried clothes… even the static-y clinginess of a wool sweater, hot out of the dryer. It was soothing.
I hesitated over the socks for a second. I hadn’t seen them before. I held them up, enjoying the warm, tingly feeling on my palms. Not really Kendra’s usual style. Cute, though. I started to ball them up, ready to toss them on her pile.
Then I stopped. They just felt… nice. They felt good on my skin. I didn’t really think about it, but I suddenly found myself running them through my hands, savoring how they felt.
Just try them on. Real quick.
I didn’t fight the idea. Why would I?
I thought they felt good in my hands, but that was nothing compared to how they felt on my feet. It’s tough to explain the sensation. It wasn’t soothing, or even comfortable, honestly. It was like little static shocks, all over my legs. But instead of just on the skin, it felt like they traveled right up my spine and zapped my brain. I wouldn’t call it pleasurable, but it wasn’t painful, either. Somewhere in between.
It was intense, though. I couldn’t bring myself to take them off. I padded around the apartment all afternoon wearing them, feeling little shocks with every step I took. The feeling was kind of addictive. I found myself stroking the tops of the socks, trying to get a little more of it. It seemed stronger if I was wearing less, so I stripped down to my bra and panties.
Somewhere along the line, I discovered how it felt if I touched my pussy while I was wearing them.
If the socks alone sent shocks to my brain, this hit me with a fucking lightning bolt. It was such a rush. Two minutes in, and I was hornier than I’d ever been. I was draped over the edge of my bed, fingers buried in my cunt, crying out and moaning and coming and coming and coming…
I got hold of myself a while later. Sort of, at least. I couldn’t really think right - every thought seemed to be about tits, or fucking, or cocks, or come. I couldn’t really seem to get out of that little loop of ideas. Anything else just felt distracting. I felt a shock zap my brain, and I giggled. Giggling felt good.
I touched myself some more, more lazily. Less intense. It felt less like a storm in my head now, and more like a steady, gradual buzz. Like something gradually wiping me clean, scouring away all the rough edges, leaving me smooth and simple.
Kendra came home eventually. By then, I was drunk on orgasms and giggling at everything that moved. She stood over the bed and looked at me. I was hanging off of it, my head dangling over the side, so she looked upside-down. That was, like, super funny to me.
"Ohh, Marcy," she said, grinning, "you little ditz! Those weren’t for you! I was just washing them before I gave them to Anne. Tom’s had a crush on her for, like, forever."
I blinked slowly, smiling. I didn’t really understand. Tom was Kendra’s boyfriend. I wondered what his cock was like.
Kendra giggled. “Kinda hard to think, right? I know, I totally remember. I still feel like that sometimes, even when I’m not wearing them!”
This was all so confusing. I just giggled and rubbed my clit a little more.
"Oh well," she said, "I’m sure he’ll enjoy you anyway. Right?"
I giggled. I wasn’t sure what she meant, but she was smiling, and she looked happy, so I figured everything was good. What could be wrong when I felt this good, after all?
(Thanks to Kyra for the prompts on this one!)