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This vignette was written for Kemper, kinda. Actually they were kind enough to let me pick the content of their Patreon flash fic this time round, so I went for a somewhat self-indulgent favourite of mine. It contains F/Solo masturbation involving a consenting adult. :)

Eva's Heavenly Hairbrush

Another night, another hotel room. Another bed to get used to, another set of pillows frustratingly soft that had to be piled three deep, another shower-bath combo which left a puddle of water along the side of the tub thanks to an undersized glass screen running along barely a third of the length of the bath itself, and of course, another room service menu with the same dozen or so dishes at impossibly inflated prices. Twenty one pounds for fish and chips no doubt fresh out of the freezer? No thank you.

And yet, as Eva locked her door and began to pull of her clothes at the end of her day, she was still happy to be there. Happy to have the space, and the time to herself which a hotel room offered a solitary business traveller like her. From now until ten the following morning she had no obligations to anyone, no reason to leave her room or put on so much as a stitch of clothing. And of course, though as always she had travelled as light as possible for this particular two day conference, she had with her the only thing which she needed to ensure that a night alone in a hotel room was never wasted.

Removing the last of her clothes and neatly but hurriedly folding them so that she could justify wearing the same outfit home which she'd worn on today's outward leg, the plump vixen soon found herself kneeling down by her small wheeled suitcase. There wasn't enough in it to require rooting around, and Eva trembled in delight as her left hand immediately fell upon what it was that she was seeking. The object that made her every night spent alone on the road heaven, no matter how dreary the city or how mediocre the hotel. The object that saved her the embarrassment of having to awkwardly explain to airport security what they would find if they looked through her bag as a random check, as she knew that several of her female colleagues had been forced to endure in the past. The sex toy that had served her well for longer than any lover she'd ever had, and indeed which she had already owned before having had any lovers, albeit not initially for the purpose which it now served first and foremost.

With an almost bashful giggle, Eva rose hurriedly to her feet with her hairbrush clutched in her hand, and darted over to the bed. She squealed as she leapt onto it and bounced a little more than expected, but soon settled herself over the still tucked in, crisp white sheets with her head resting on a stack of three pillows and her knees raised, legs parted as she peered down the length of her curvy form. Her breasts rose and fell in her peripheral vision as she watched her hands reach down between her legs, and even before she could turn the makeshift toy into its familiar position, bristles up, left hand gripping at its head while her right paw spread apart her outer lips to allow easy access for the smooth, rounded and somewhat faded blue plastic handle, a soft moan escaped her muzzle.

"Oohhyesss..."

It wasn't an exaggeration to say that Eva loved her hairbrush. She didn't go quite so far as to anthropomorphise it, to think of it as having a personality or any will or desires of its own. Nevertheless, the truth remained that she was deeply grateful to it, and that the idea of ever having to live a life without it brought her discomfort, if not outright anxiety. She had never, never had a bad orgasm with her brush. Never been let down or unimpressed by what it did to her. It had taken disappointing nights with average lovers who had held such promise in their affection for her and even their enthusiasm when they got home together, and ensured that Eva had been able to retire to bed satisfied regardless of what they had failed to do for her.

And tonight, all tonight, it was just her and her brush. Just her naked body and that handle which reached the perfect depth, short enough to let her fuck herself mindlessly without any thought of accidentally pushing a little too deep and prompting even the slightest discomfort, but broad enough with its rounded, smooth handle to ensure she could really feel every motion. Sometimes she swore that the manufacturers must have known. That they must have planned it, so perfectly attuned was the brush's handle not just to bring her pleasure, but to drive her beyond madness in how impossibly good it made her feel. But, whatever the reason for the hairbrush being made the way it was, Eva was just glad that she possessed it. Glad that she had it to rely upon night after night, hotel room after hotel room. And of course, glad that right here and right now, there was nothing stopping her from burying it inside of her pussy, and fucking herself with it until the bedding was so soaked that even when she crawled underneath it later on, thighs dripping and eyelids heavy with exhaustion, she'd still be able to feel the sodden aftermath of her multi-orgasmic rapture.

With a grunt of effort the vixen pressed the brush's handle into herself, and immediately her eyes bulged, her muzzle falling slack as the very first stroke grazed her g-spot just as she knew that it would. A strangled cry escaped Eva's lips as she pulled the toy back, then drove it deep back in again in a short, sharp motion. That solitary cry only lingered for a moment though, and soon it was but one amongst many of frantic, guttural grunts, whimpers and outright wails as Eva began to plunge the hairbrush in and out of herself, and to let it carry her to the first of that night's many, many, many thrashing, screaming, squirting orgasms.

By Jeeves

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