55 - Stockholm Syndrome (Part 3: F*** Everything and Recover)

Thirty five minutes later, I took my second shower of the day, cleansing my body of the sweat. Returning to my bed, I flopped myself onto my back, looking at the ceiling. I did some of my best thinking this way, lying on my back, naked. I closed my eyes, and felt the damp towel on the back of my thighs and ass, and the temperature of the room on the front of my chest and stomach. I consciously slowed my breathing down, being sure to count to four when I inhaled, and then up to five, then six. I felt myself growing calmer, yet remained energized and tactile. In my body, as Jennifer would say.  One of my hands began tracing little figure-eights around my small breasts. Goosebumps began to faintly form beneath the whorls of my fingerprints, and I felt my nipples begin to harden, and my sex begin to grow warm and wet. My other hand rested heavily on my stomach, which felt toned and strong after the yoga workout. I let my mind drift, and should not have been surprised when I saw where I ran ashore.

 

Grete, where are you? Are you okay?

 

5085 words (FF, MF)

Cover art: Robert Flynt

IG: @robertflyntfoto

 

55 - Stockholm Syndrome (Part 3: F*** Everything and Recover)

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