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For the first time in a long time, perhaps forever, Nile is alone. No family to bother her, no friends to pester her for attention. No mother to cherish her, no partner to joke around with. It should feel lonely, to be so far from everyone she’s ever known, but this is her norm now. She’s starting to find peace in the silence.
They’ve been holed up in the same safe house for a few weeks now. Joe and Nicky left a week ago on a smaller mission that didn’t require the whole team, or what’s left of the team anyway. It was a thinly veiled cover so they could have some alone time just the two of them, but Nile supposes it’s deserved after all the shit they’ve been through in the past year.
A few days after the couple had left, Andy had walked out too, muttering she had somewhere to be. Nile knew better by now than to question her, or worse, try to protect her; Andy is a law unto herself and more than capable of keeping herself safe. She’s probably more capable of protecting herself than Nile would be, but it’s still hard to watch Andy leave alone, knowing that she’s objectively the most vulnerable of them all.
After devouring the last of the leftovers that should’ve lasted her a few days in a stress-eating spree, Nile decides it’s probably worth getting some real food, so she heads out at dusk to do some midnight shopping.
While she’s walking back to the safe house of the month with her food, she passes a drug store. She walks in without thinking, still in the back of her mind that Andy is out there, far from powerless but still exposed and without backup, deciding to get some extra medical supplies to try and ease her conscience. This way she can at least offer help when Andy gets back if it’s needed.
Nile hasn’t had much privacy in her life. As a kid and teenager she’d shared a room with either her brother or mother for most of her childhood. Even if she had a room to herself for a few blissful months, the walls in their house were thin enough she could hear her mother’s delicate snores from the other side of the house.
When she’d joined the army, she’d always shared a bunk or a room with her squad. They were all wonderful, admittedly very attractive women, but the stigma was enough to dampen the mood before it started.
With this in mind she’s planned some… alone time for tonight, taking advantage of her first night of true privacy. Nile had been teasing herself with the thought all day, forcing herself to train through the morning then start researching their next mission. She had kept herself busy all day, building the tension.
So sue her if her mind was wandering to places maybe it usually wouldn’t while she was out shopping.
As Nile walks towards the till after grabbing whatever gauze and stupid patterned plasters she could tease Andy with, she walks past some of the displays. Her eyes skim over the hairdye mindlessly, contemplating dying her hair. Pink might look cool. She eyed the bleach. Would she look good with highlights? Was it worth trying to prank Joe and swap out his conditioner for bleach?
Her mind wandered further into that thought, smirking to herself at the imagery, and her eyes flicked past the hair ties. She wondered if Andy ever had long enough hair to tie back or braid? She would look gorgeous with long hair. She always looks gorgeous, but Nile imagines how her long hair would twist around her while she was fighting, like a whirlwind, how it might feel in her hands, how it might look haloed around her face on a pillow as her mouth opened on a moan-
Great, now she’s turned on in the middle of a pharmacy. She can feel a slight dampness between her legs as she’s walking. God, she wants to be fucked so bad. She’s wet enough, anything would slide right in. She snorts derisively to herself, she almost feels desperate enough to resort to anything to get the job done.
Nile rolls her eyes, but her feet stutter to a halt in front of the hairbrushes. Her eyes land on one with a chunky handle that looked like it would hold some weight, and her pussy clenches as her mind and heart race.
She couldn’t…
Could she?
No one would know. She’s been so desperate for something, anything, for so long now. Is she this desperate?
Nile’s never owned a sex toy. She had considered it several times, but the potential shame and embarrassment of her family, her squad, or worse now, one of her team members she looks up to finding it? It was too much to bear.
But this? It’s innocuous. And it would get the job done.
Pushing past the shame and humiliation, Nile grabs a hairbrush with a large, heavy, tapered handle and scurries to the checkout.
She’s blushing as she packs the supplies into her bag. Nile is terrified the woman behind the counter will see her blown pupils and quickened breath, see the want and shame warring inside her chest and know exactly what she has planned.
Nile makes it out of the shop and walks back to the safe house without any incident, still irrationally scared someone will jump out from around a corner and snatch the bag out of her hands.
Back at the safe house she rushes into the kitchen, blind to everything except the need welling between her legs. She even forgets to do her usual cursory sweep of the house that has been beaten into her from years of training and her newfound paranoia. Though can is it still consider paranoia if her fear has a very real basis in reality? Why else are they hiding out in a safe house in the smallest town possible, if not because they still know people will be after them?
Nile packs the food away as quick as possible, the want flowering inside her has devoured any hunger she felt earlier. She leaves the supplies for Andy on the kitchen counter, unsure what else to do with them, and heads for her room, making a pit stop in the bathroom to cut the packaging off her new “toy” and scrub it clean.
When she gets to her room, Nile places the new, clean hairbrush on her bedside table, within arms reach of her bed. But the busywork has made her lose some of her nerve, and Nile’s suddenly overwhelmed by what’s she’s about to do.
Nile busies herself with her normal routine, trying to ignore the new addition to her bedroom. She undresses slowly, shivering in the cold and silence of her room, still unused to the tranquility and calm that comes with solitude. She could get used to this peacefulness, even thought she knows it’s never going to last in her new line of work.
Once Nile is redressed in her pyjamas (one of the boys old oversized shirts and her underwear), she’s almost convinced herself she could fall straight to sleep and forget this nonsense. But when her head hits the pillow and she forces her eyes closed she’s still wide awake and her mind is racing. Why waste what little, precious alone time she has?
Nile shifts around on the bed, now restless, and shuffles her pillows around so she’s propped up against the headboard, slouching slightly. Once she’s comfortable, the silence buoys her confidence. The borderline loneliness she felt earlier dissipates, and the shroud of darkness around her only feels protective now, not suffocating like before.
She’s fully under the blankets, cocooned against the slight chill of the room, a barrier between her and the cold air. It gives her an extra sense of protection, privacy, and calms her racing nerves further.
Nile begins by gently running her hands over her body, under the blanket but over her shirt, in a soothing, almost meditative movement. Just re-familiarising herself. It’s been a while since she took her time like this. She gently skims the soft inside of her thighs, the slightly coarse hair on the outside, up to her hips. Her hands move upwards, caressing the soft swell of her stomach, dragging the tender but firm touch up her sides.
When she reaches her chest she inhales softly, holding her breasts tenderly through the cotton of her shirt, just appreciating the weight of them, feeling her nipples slowly tighten under the warm pressure. Nile squeezes slightly and revels in the give under her hands and the slow, simmering pleasure she starts to feel building deep inside her.
Her right hand begins to drift back down to her stomach, then back up to her chest in a cycle, following the lines of her body. As her hand moves up and down her body, the blankets slowly slide down to reveal Niles hands on her body over her shirt. Though she knows no one is watching, even this act feels intimate.
The hand on her breast squeezes, then pulls back to trace gently over her hardened nipples through the fabric with the pad of her finger. She runs her hand across one breast to the other and her nail catches on the hardened nipple, sending a spark of pleasure down to her groin. She alternates between breasts, caressing the skin and torturing her nipples through her shirt, allowing herself to use more force than she would otherwise with the protection of the fabric between her sharp nails and sensitive skin.
After a few slow drags down her body, her hand slips under her shirt, finally caressing the soft, warm skin of her stomach and hips. Nile’s hand begins to draw teasing lines along the velvet skin of her stomach and sides, drawing this slow torture out as long as she can bear. She continues to slide this hand up and down her torso, caressing the scars littering her body, and her mind drifts back to Andy. How many scars is she hiding under her clothes? How would they feel under Nile’s tongue? Her mouth waters at the thought.
On the next slide up her body, she digs her nails in slightly and drags them up, eliciting a soft whimper, barely a noise, that small jolt of pleasure after so long teasing only amplifying her want.
With her roaming hand continuing its movements, Nile slides the other under her shirt as well, though this one cups one breast gently, savouring the skin on skin contact. She strokes the soft expanse between her breasts, underneath them, just exploring. The hand on her stomach follows the path up her body, pushing her shirt up to expose her breasts to the cool air of her room, and Nile feels her nipples harden further at the sudden change in temperature. After revelling in the feeling of vulnerability of being so on display to an unfortunately empty room, she pulls her shirt the rest of the way off and throws it across the room in her desperation to get her hands back on her skin.
As Nile slides her hands across her own chest, her fingers catch on her now fully hardened nipples with every pass. She glides her fingers over them gently, then pinches them both, pulling a gasp from deep within her chest. The pleasure is building to something noticeable now, spreading like wildfire through her veins, waking the rest of her body up.
Nile’s left hand continues abusing one nipple, while her right hand slides down her body again, lingering on the jut of her hip, down to her covered mound. She begins to trace slow lines along her lips through her pants, letting this small touch race up her body. Her lower half is still covered by her blankets, making her feel more debauched as she can see the outline of her hand moving under the covers but nothing else.
After what feels like an eternity of stroking her damp heat through the fabric, Nile loses patience and shimmies out of her pants, finally naked. She traces her fingers over her wet pussy, shuddering at the more deliberate touches after so long teasing, yet she still slides her fingers past her clit instead of touching it directly. Whenever her fingers just miss the bundle of nerves, her stomach clenches in anticipation, climbing higher and higher.
She slips a finger between her lips where she’s the wettest, and drags the slick up to press at her clit, then back down again. She does this a few times, each press to her clit pulling a small hitch of breath from her and a pulse of heat deep inside her.
Quickly, even this teasing becomes too much, the building pleasure driving her forward, and she slides one finger back down her folds to her opening, thoroughly coating it with her slick, and slowly, steadily presses it inside her wet heat. Nile stills her finger deep inside herself, letting the tease of not-quite fullness and the warm solid pressure wash over her, before beginning to slide it in and out, passing her thumb over clit every few thrusts. Heat is building rapidly under the blanket, and her legs lash out to push the blanket down further, fully exposing herself to the quiet of her room. Even though there’s no one there to see, she blushes and arches her back, longing to see be seen, still luxuriating in the taboo pleasure of being fully exposed. Nile spreads her legs wide, one foot sliding off the bed, bending the other leg up and letting her knee relax out, putting everything on display, suddenly desperate to be observed.
The combined pleasure of one hand still flicking and pinching her swollen nipples, a thumb on her clit and a warm weight inside her is enough to make her dizzy. The muscles in her thighs flex in time with the movement of her hands, and she imagines someone kneeling between them watching her defile herself, her eyes rolling back at the fantasy.
As the heat inside her builds, she slides a second finger in next to the first, delighting in the slight stretch, still silently begging for more, desperate to be split open on something, anything after such a long build up. But she makes herself wait.
Once her two fingers are sliding in and out with ease, Nile begins to move her fingers more, relaxing her muscles and basking in the rhythmic movements. She crooks her fingers slightly on each push in, pleasure rolling through her in waves. The pressure inside her is slowly building, so instead of flicking her thumb over her clit every few thrusts like before, she moves her other hand down from her aching tits to rub continuously at it, matching the rate of her thrusts. This quickly becomes overwhelming and she hurtles towards the edge too quickly after such a long build up. Just as she feels her pleasure building to a crescendo, Nile removes her hand from her clit, mourning the pressure and pulling a whine from deep within her chest at the sudden drop in pleasure.
If Andy were here, she would make her wait, so she’s going to wait.
Her fingers remain inside her, a comfortable pressure, and Nile can feel the walls of her cunt pulsing around her fingers at the thought, desperate to continue moving and send herself over the edge that’s just so close. But she knows, in a part of her brain still capable of conscious thought, not yet fogged with pleasure, that riding that edge will make her inevitable fall so much more enjoyable.
Once she’s regained enough control to move without coming, Nile slides her fingers in and out a few more times, wallowing in the slow, easy pleasure, then removes them. Already missing the pressure, Nile reaches an unsteady hand across to her bedside table and grabs the makeshift toy she brought earlier.
She blushes again at the depravity of the situation. She’s so horny to be filled by something, anything, she’s chosen an inanimate object in lieu of a sex toy, or even a real dick to fulfil her fantasy of being filled by something more than just fingers.
The handle of the hairbrush is long and thick, large enough to hopefully feel different to her fingers, and comes to a gentle taper which should slide inside her easily enough.
Her legs tense with excitement as Nile moves the handle down towards her pulsing wetness. She drags the handle between her lips first, feeling the unyielding, cold pressure against her overheated pussy. She pushes her hips into it, grinding her hardened clit against the solid weight of it, groaning at the sudden spike in pleasure.
Nile quickly moves the tip down to her entrance that now feels desperately empty, suddenly frantic with arousal.
The soaked handle slides easily into her pulsing hole, and she slowly presses it in as deep as it will go without catching herself on the bristles. That’s maybe a thought to revisit when she isn’t yearning so badly for release.
Her head falls back in shock at how different the feeling is to just fingers, hard and unyielding in the way flesh could never be, but also more cold and unfeeling. As she gets used the bizarre but not unpleasant sensation of something new so deep inside of her, Nile’s other hand drifts up to fondle her neglected breasts, pinching and pulling on her nipples with fervour now. The smooth, solid handle feels so different to the textured, warm feeling of her fingers inside her that she’s used to, and, now she’s used to it, the difference is heavenly. The handle has less give than her fingers do, so as she her cunt clenches on it, its girth presses unyielding against her walls and lights her up from the inside.
The teasing earlier has driven her to a blind desperation. Nile feels herself steadily climbing towards her peak as she begins to move the handle erratically inside her sopping pussy, the noises coming from the movement sounding erotic and obscene in the otherwise silent night. The lewd sounds echoing in her room draw increasingly sinful noises from the back of her throat, whines and moans and whimpers. The hand on her breast flies back down to her clit, rubbing with reckless abandon now. She’s so close, all she wants to feel is her release.
Both her hands and arms tingle with the strain of the continuous, frantic movements, but the stretch on her overworked muscles just adds to the overwhelming sensations. However, it means she can’t move her fingers on her clit with the dexterity she had before, or keep the pace on the thrusts of the handle inside her, so she reaches a plateau in her pleasure. Her edge is right there, but she refuses to push herself over yet, slowing her movements as much as she can in her desperate state, balancing herself on the delicate edge of release. Nile begs under her breath between quiet moans and gasps, pleading for someone who isn’t there to allow her to fall over the precipice.
The thought of being watched enters her mind again, unbidden but certainly not unwelcome as Andy’s name falls from her lips in her frantic begging. Nile imagines the eternally composed woman seeing her like this, debauched and desperate, begging for release. What would happen if Nile opened her eyes now and saw Andy stood at the foot of her bed? Staring unflinchingly at her full pussy with darkened eyes. Silent, uncaring to her pleas, just revelling in watching her pained pleasure.
Her begging increases in intensity at the vision. “Please Andy, please! I just want to… I just- please, oh god. Plea- fuck!
Or, perhaps, would she hear Nile’s distress and speak to her in that low voice of hers, barely audible over the pornographic sounds coming from Nile’s body. Would Andy tell her she was a greedy bitch for spreading her legs so wide for a piece of plastic? Would she tell her she was a filthy slut who would do anything for pleasure? Would do anything to come? Are you gonna come? Come for me, baby.
It’s this thought that pushes her over. That Andy would walk in on her protégée like this, see how desperate she was, choking on frantic need but holding herself on that edge, humiliate Nile further, then allow her to finish only on her command.
Her orgasm slams into her with no warning. She goes from balanced just before her precipice to overwhelmed in seconds. The only sign is a tightening in her core, then her back bows off the bed, head flung back, toes curled, and her climax washes over her like a wave. Her hand stops thrusting the handle inside her, unable to maintain the coordination required as all higher functions leave her body, immobilised by pure heat coursing just under her skin. She’s completely frozen except for her fingers rubbing hungrily over her swollen clit, prolonging the mind-bending pleasure as long as she can, this movement fuelled by nothing but animalistic, uncontrollable greed for this feeling to go on forever.
After what feels like a lifetime, which is a fucking long time for Nile, her body relaxes out of its arch, and she collapses weakly to the bed. As her limbs shake and her heart slows, she can still hear Andy’s gravelly voice echoing in her memory, and the thought that she came so violently to the image her mentor whispering in her ear coincides with a rush of sick pleasure.
In her post-coital bliss she removes the hairbrush from her sopping pussy and drops it on the bedroom floor to deal with later. Her body and mind are too loose to care about anything in this moment other than slowing her heart rate to an acceptable level, and calculating the next time she’ll have enough privacy to do this again.
Though Nile has learned to always be on high alert, the earth shattering orgasm has left her sated and drunk, even if this elation is still tinged with humiliation and embarrassment at the act she committed and the filthy thoughts that pushed her over. This means that through the haze of bliss still clouding her mind, she doesn’t notice the door to her bedroom slowly closing to and quiet footsteps moving down the hall.
As Andy closes the door to her own bedroom further into the house, hand and pants slick with her own release and images from the past hour burned into her memory, she smirks into the darkness. This could be fun.