A Jewel of a Woman

By Mary Anne Mohanraj
Feb 28, 2019 · 795 words · 3 minutes


From the author: What do you think about ... ?


You ever wonder what women think about when they’re grabbing the
goatee? I bet you hope they think about you — about the smell of you, or
the taste of your slightly salty come, or how much they want a nice, thick
cock slamming into them right about now…well, sorry to disappoint you,
but I don’t think about men when I’m jilling off. Maybe other women do —
I don’t know, so you can still keep hoping — but I’m a little strange.
You know what I think about?

Jewels. That’s right. When I’m fluffin’ the ‘muff’in, buffing
the beaver, airing the orchid — you know exactly what I mean — I’m
thinking about rubies. Rubies and diamonds. Rubies and diamonds and
emeralds and sapphires and I’m getting wet just thinking about it. Here,
let me get more comfortable — undo this silly bra and spread my legs so I
have lots of room to work with — ah, that’s better.

So as I was saying, I don’t know what other girls do when they’re
dousing the digits, but me, I get myself off with gemstones walking
through my mind. Before I even start, I open up my jewel case and adorn
myself with some pretty or other — not that I can afford real jewels, but
at least I can pretend. Sometimes I wrap imitation pearls around my
waist, or put a string of bangles on my naked arm. I’ve thought about
getting my nipples pierced, so I can hang earrings from them — don’t you
think that’d look cute? And at Christmas, I could hang little ornaments
there.

I once tried that trick you read about, where you stuff a bunch of
pearls deep into your pussy and then pull the strand out slowly, one by
one. It drove Mike (my ex) crazy at the time, and it felt so good, so
fucking good as those pearls came out, grinding against my clit one by
one, but it totally ruined those imitation pearls. I need real ones,
baby…real strands of pearls. And topazes and opals, and amethysts, and
garnets — I’m not picky — I’ll even take semi-precious if it’s the best
I can get.

Mmm….just thinking about it makes me want to fuck. And since
you’re not here, well, I’ll have to do the best I can myself. Let my
fingers do the walking, from my hard nipples down to pet the pussy, oh
yeah. Uh huh. Just a little tickle here, then a little jab there…pull
those labia apart so I can really get to strumming the clitar, oh yes. I
left my vibrator at the office — silly me — but hey, I’ve had years of
getting off without it. Just takes a bit more work. Just think of
diamonds, girl, diamonds in your hair and ears and around my smooth white
neck — a diamond in my belly button and another in my pubic hair. They
say that back in olden times, ladies used to grow their pubic hair extra
long so they could tie ribbons in it. Wouldn’t mine look cute with a
couple diamonds attached?

Maybe I’d just stuff a handful up my pussy — though rubies would
be better for that. Oh, yeah. Nice, big, goose-egg rubies, cold and hard
at first and then warming up inside me. I could walk to work like that,
and all those rubies would be jangling around in my pussy, and strange men
would look at me in the street, wondering where that strange knocking
noise was coming from. And I would smile… ‘Diamond in the soles of her
shoes’? She ain’t got nothing on me, baby.

God, I’m soaking now, at the thought of all those rubies inside
me. I wish I did have something inside me, something big and hard.
Rubies would be best, but I wouldn’t complain at a cock right now, no I
wouldn’t. My fingers are getting wrinkled, and it would be nice to have
someone else take over thumbing the button, waxing the saddle. You could
buy me jewels — the kind of jewels I can’t afford with my $7.75 an hour
as an Arthur Anderson file clerk.

How ’bout that for a deal, huh? Buy me rubies and pearls, black
onyxes and opals — hell, I’ll wear an opal in my ass; I’ll deck myself
out in jewels from head to toe, like those exotic harem girls over in
Arabia. And you can lick me from head to toe, lick right around and over
and under all those pretties, and take ’em off one by one to leave a clear
path for you to fuck me, oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah — wrap your fingers in
my hair and pull me down to the bed naked and wet beneath you — just
leave me my pearls, my string of pearls wrapped twice around my waist and
I will fuck you like you’ve never been fucked before, oh boy, oh God, yes
— I will fuck you until you scream.

*****


M.A. Mohanraj
May 2, 1997
(with thanks to Jordan Shelbourne)

This story originally appeared in Sex Toy Tales, 1998.