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Thanksgiving in a house of orphans is an odd affair. When we were kids, the mansion's many rooms emptied into a funnel that beckoned into the dining room. The noisy wooden stairs were alive, aching with our scrambling feet. With over twenty of us, the grand room became a royal mead hall.
Our keeper was the kindly, ordered Alexis Cunningham and a small crew of cooks and cleaners. Even with the extra bodies, it was Ms. Cunningham in her endless patience that pushed that food out the door. The lengthy table, reserved in her day for her husband's many friends, was swarmed by hungry mouths that had never seen such a bounty.
Oh, and we were all girls -- except for one very shy boy named Mark. He was last down the stairs, last to the table, and the meekest whisper at asking for what he wanted. The potatoes and stuffing would be gone before his voice carried down the table. Turkey would be nothing but bones and gristle.
At my seventh Thanksgiving dinner, I saw the same feeding frenzy unfold in the same way. Mark sat at the opposite head of the table, raising his finger and looking meekly for mercy amongst hunting lionesses. I smiled at him and jerked my head to the kitchen.
Ms. Cunningham had a plate prepared for him, stacked with scrumptious turkey, hardy green beans, and delicious gravy stuffing. I smiled over my chair as I saw his eyes grow, a pebble of true glee found in his wide beach of disbelief. He was in a state of childish nirvana.
The Cebeci Escort next week, I was gone. Adopted into the Kingsly clan to become Audrey Kingsly.
Years passed where I grew into a beautiful woman with way too short a temper. I shortened my brown hair and gave it waves, which made me a dyke through so many eyes. My shoulders became covered in tattoos to commemorate the sun and the moon. Very few people approached me without some terrible life advice hanging on the end of their tongue.
What few exceptions there were came from a lecherous crowd -- men and women that glimpsed my tight stomach, round ass, and gifted chest. My breasts lacked size but defied gravity, looking fantastic with no help. Very few conversations started without the other person losing themselves into the valley of the most miniscule of cleavage I showed.
For my twentieth Thanksgiving, a package came in the mail inviting back to the Cunningham Manor along with a lot of former orphans. Former family. As bitter as I had become to humanity in general in the years since being adopted, I smiled at the invitation, feeling my stomach widen in anticipation of the feast.
With the invitation had come a small photo album with current pictures of my old brothers and sisters. The night before driving out, I sat on my bed flipping through. Some had aged thirty years thanks to life and bad luck while others smiled like personal rays of sunshine. Of course, Cebeci Escort Bayan the bitches had grown up into the most beautiful peacocks. Life isn't fair sometimes.
Then, I turn the page and see Mark again. Handsome, short brown hair waving to the side perfectly, and those brown eyes still looking sadly away from the camera. His face had filled out. His neck angled down off where the picture ended, but my imagination didn't.
I rolled onto my back as I imagined his broader shoulders -- not too broad. He must have acquired some muscle by accident, showing beautiful, sexy veins running through his forearms. His gingham shirt would be messy and unbuttoned to reveal a perfect place along his sternum for my lips.
Sudden jolts of electricity ran from my hard nipples as I rubbed my breasts. My dark room filled with my low moan.
He'd have a very cheap haircut, too meek to ask for anything fancier. 'That's alright,' I thought, 'I'll take charge of him.' My other hand slithered like a hungry snake down the pink band of my panties. As my fingers ran through the dark stubble above my clit, I imagined it was actually the back of his head, turning each of those short hairs into electrical towers.
My toes curled upon first contact, my moan more of a squeak. 'Thin walls. Bite your lip.' I obeyed my inner voice, teeth clamping hard.
The fantasy became less and less grounded as I wound myself tighter. He unbuttoned his Escort Cebeci shirt into a six-pack, I unzipped his pants to find a cock built just for me, and he knew right where to kiss on my neck to spread the fire to my full body's forest. I lost all reason. One finger ran quick circles around my clit while another finger made moist slurping noises as it ran up and down my inner walls.
He teased my wet pussy lips with the tip of his cock for an excruciatingly long time. I was digging my nails into his chiseled abdomen by time he let even an inch of his throbbing girth inside of me. In my mind, I was euphoric with the feeling, simulating it with a second finger sliding inside. I parted my eyes to imagine him looking down on me with a gaze as hungry as mine as I pushed my fingers knuckle deep.
'Wait,' I thought a moment before I disobeyed. Usually, I was an edger, keeping myself right near the end of all self-control for at least a few minutes. Not tonight -- not with this fantasy.
The last image in my mind before the bright lights of climax took over was of Mark's orgasmic face contorting with pleasure.
"Mmmmhggggnnnn," I squealed into my pillow as my knees came up to my chest, shaking wildly. With a mouthful of memory foam, I rocked against my still fingers at the rate of my insanely-high heartbeat. My fluids had ruined the pink panties, but I wanted to ruin more. An audible gulp left as my teeth unlatched from the pillow. I was hungry.
Even as ravenous as I was, a beast had to rest. I had shaken my body into an extreme fatigue, all on the image of a grown man I hadn't seen in years. It made me smile as I drifted to sleep, wondering how close Mark would come to my fantasy when I saw him again.