GENRE: MASTURBATION – FEMALE/MALE
By Landon Dixon
I thought I’d surprise my girlfriend. And ended up surprising the both of us, which finally put our sex life into motion.
I was supposed to pick Nancy up at seven o’clock for dinner and a movie, but got off work early and decided to drive directly over to her place. Normally, that was never a good idea, as I was usually left cooling my heels for an hour or more while she ‘got herself ready’. But not this time.
The door to her tenth-floor apartment was unlocked, and I let myself in. Not finding the tall, slim blond in the living room or kitchen, I snuck down the hall to her bedroom. And found her – stretched out on her big, fluffy bed wearing just a lacy black bra and panties. Her left hand was on her bra, right hand in her panties.
My eyes bugged out and I audibly gulped, amazed to find Nancy in such a state of undress and arousal. I’d barely gotten to second base after dating her for a couple of months, but I’d figured that maybe she had some intimacy issues, or whatever women call them. Well, maybe with me, she had, but not with herself, I discovered as I watched.
The lights were turned down low like the music coming from her computer, and a stick of incense burned in a holder on her nightstand. Nancy’s eyes were closed and her wavy blond hair was spread out on one of her ruffled white pillows, her pale, lean body glowing in the dim light. As she moved her hand in her panties, rubbing her pussy, clutching and squeezing one of her breasts through her bra.
I gripped the doorjamb, staring at my girlfriend engaged in her private self-passion, my cock swelling the front of my pants at the unexpected erotic sight. I’d never seen a woman masturbate before – in person – and it was something behold, Nancy biting her lip and undulating her body, rubbing her button under the lace, rolling a nipple.
I wanted so much to reach down and pull out my cock and stroke off in time to her movements. But I didn’t want to spoil the moment by giving myself away – her moment and our moment. I’d never seen her so sexually excited before, laid out right in front of me. She was the sort of straight-laced girl I thought never engaged in the dirty little pleasure known as masturbation. But she was proving me wrong, big time!
Unaware of my presence, she pulled her hand out of her panties, sat up on the bed, and unhooked her bra at the back and tossed it aside, revealing her milky-white, pink-tipped breasts. Her nipples were hard and pointing, and her conical breasts jumped as she reached down and arched her bottom up and slid her panties off, kicking them aside. Then she lay back down on the bed, fully-naked now, and cupped her bare breasts in both hands and squeezed the shining pair.
I licked my lips, cock throbbing, fingernails biting into the woodwork as I watched Nancy work her luscious tits. She kneaded the heated masses, crawled her slender fingers up the smooth skin to pinch her jutting nipples, her shaved pussy winking with moisture.
Then she slid her right hand down off her breast and across her hollowed stomach, sliding one finger deep into her pussy. And she gasped, arching again, her finger slipped back out and went right to her clit and rubbed.
It took all the willpower I had not to abandon my post and rush over and dive into my girlfriends solo party, damn the consequences. But I knew I had a better chance of being rewarded by staying hidden, than taking any precipitous action. So I stood there, watching, mesmerized by the sight of Nancy making love to herself so shamelessly and wantonly.
And sure enough, her lean, creamy body began vibrating, straining upwards, as she urgently buffed her clit and pulled on her nipples. She was so close to coming I could taste it, the sweet scent of the incense and her perfume, the spicy smell of sex in the air, making my head spin. My heart and cock pulsed to a rabbit’s beat, watching the naked girl writhe around in the throes of self-pleasure.
“Oh, God!” she cried, her body bowing, muscles clenching, hands desperately rubbing and clutching. She spasmed, repeatedly, propelling herself to the heights of ecstasy.
“Fuck!” I breathed, watching the beautiful woman orgasm over and over.
She fell back onto the bed, shivering with the aftershocks of her joy, clenching her tits and pussy. I stumbled back down the hall to her door; to ring her bell nowhere near as good as she had.
. . . . . . . . . .
I confessed to my peeping the following evening, as we watched a chick-flick together in my basement apartment.
“You saw me …!?” Nancy yelped, whirling around on the couch and glaring at me, her face turning beat red.
I sheepishly grinned. “I was just trying to surprise you.” I reached for her, hoping getting the sexy secret out into the open would inspire the woman to some mutual passion. “It was a huge turn-on, babe. You looked … spectacular.”
She pushed me away, folded her arms across her chest. Then shocked me by saying, “Let’s see you do it, then.”
“What!? You mean … you want me to mastur-, you know, right in front of you?”
She nodded her head. “You got your peepshow, now give me mine.”
She arched an eyebrow. “Well, come on. I’ve never seen a guy do it before – it might be educational.”
I gawked at her, unsure if she was just teasing me, or if she really wanted to see me jerk off in front of her.
Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and her pretty, defiant face shone in the reflection from the television. She was dressed in a green sweater and a pair of white jeans, and her nipples poked the tight material above her folded arms. Still, I was about as aroused as that guy Sandra Bullock was chasing after on-screen.
I swallowed hard and unfastened my belt, unzipped my jeans, totally mindful of Nancy’s staring green eyes. I looked at her, and she unabashedly looked back, like she was actually determined to see the whole show. So, I eased my jeans down to my ankles and sat there in my white Jockeys.
She didn’t reply, gazing at the very slight bulge in my underwear.
“Okay, you asked for it.” I skinned my Jockeys down, exposing my limp dick in its nest of pubic hairs.
And the girl didn’t scream, or run away laughing. But I couldn’t even look at her, gripping my flaccid cock and lifting it, stroking it. To no avail.
It was just all too embarrassing. Masturbating was something guys did in the privacy of their own bathrooms or bedrooms, or behind the barn back home; a shameful secret that served as a hairy-palmed replacement for the real thing – a woman’s hot, juicy pussy.
“Go ahead,” Nancy spoke. “I’m waiting to see what all the excitement is about.”
That didn’t help. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth, furiously searching for something that could get me going, let me rise above the rather ridiculous situation I was in. And I found it, almost right in front of me – while my eyes were still closed, Nancy got completely naked, laid out on my bed, and began feeling up her tits and rubbing her pussy.
I opened my eyes and turned my head and stared at the girl, picturing her as she was the night before, in the midst of her own solo sexual encounter. And my balls tingled, my cock stiffening, rising up in my hand so that I could get a good, firm grip, and stroke.
My face and body flushed with heat, my cock with blood. I pumped the lengthening, hardening shaft with my hand, swirling my fingers up and around the head of my cock. Looking directly at my girlfriend and seeing her in my mind’s eye as the squirming, sensuous creature I’d spied on the previous evening, in lust with herself, shamelessly enjoying her body like I was going to enjoy myself right now, as she watched.
I slid my free hand up my t-shirt and onto a nipple, squeezed the buzzing bud between my fingers, sending a spark of delight shooting through me and my cock. I was fully-erect now, as hard and as long as I’ve ever been, shifting my hand up and down in tight, warm strokes.
Nancy licked her lips, her eyes shining. And the mental image of her masturbating vanished. I didn’t need it anymore. I boldly stared into her eyes and stroked my towering cock, getting off in front of her.
I tugged harder, faster, really pulling on my pulsating cock. I slipped my other hand down out of my t-shirt and cupped my tightened balls, squeezed the hairy sack. Putting on a show for Nancy, pleasuring myself, and her.
She murmured, “Oh!” her wet, red lips puckering. I stared openly and hungrily at her, flat-out fisting my cock. And then I jerked, grunted, orgasm catching me almost unawares. Semen leaped out the tip of my pumping cock. I throttled my balls and stroked with abandon, jolted by blast after blast, never looking away from Nancy as I poured out my own personal ecstasy.
She watched open-mouthed and wide-eyed, staring at my spurting cock, amazed at the volume and intensity.
It was the best night we’d ever spent together.
Until we took this game up to the next level, that is.
. . . . . . . . . .
Nancy deliberately left her apartment door open this time. But I still snuck in like I had before, not knowing exactly what awaited me. I crept down the hallway to her bedroom, peeked in the door, and saw nothing.
Then I heard the shower running in the bathroom opposite, and I grinned, tested the doorknob, and found it unlocked. I pushed the door open and was greeted with a burst of steam, and one very sexy sight.
Nancy was in the glass-partitioned shower, washing her face in the needle hot spray gushing forth from the shower head. Only her head and bare shoulders were visible above the frosted, steamed glass, her blond hair plastered down sleekly, buff shoulders listening.
I stepped inside the bathroom, and she turned her head and smiled at me. I smiled back, cock bulging my jeans. Nancy unlatched the door of the shower stall and pushed it open, fully revealing her nude, gleaming body.
Her tits shone wet and white, pink nipples dewy, and her sweet pussy dripping. Her green eyes danced like the water on her silky skin, as she rubbed soapy hands all over her chest, caressing her breasts. Then slid the bar of soap down in between her long legs and rubbed her pussy with it.
This wasn’t anything like the sexually repressed woman I’d been dating for the past two months. This was the new, sexually spirited woman of the last couple of nights, times ten. I grinned and stripped off my clothes, anxious to join her in her lewdness.
I moved closer, until I stood right in front of her just on the other side of the tub, my hard cock twitching between my legs. She kept on rubbing her slippery tits and pussy, the water and soap sheeting off her gorgeous body, and I grabbed onto my erection and stroked, staring at her staring back at me.
She playfully splashed me with water. But that served only to lubricate my actions, not deter me in the least. I stroked slow and sure and long, and her smile faded. She dropped the soap and grasped her breasts, squeezing the slick meat, her eyes flashing.
She rolled her nipples between her fingers and shivered with the electric shock of her own touch, as I watched. I pulled on one of my nipples, as I pulled on my cock, mere feet away from the shining woman, the water hissing and steam rising, the both of us baring ourselves to one another in the most intimate two people can.
Nancy dove a hand back down in between her trembling legs, covered up her drenched pussy, and rubbed. She gasped, as she leaned back against the slick tiled wall of the shower and rubbing her pussy as rapidly as I was now stroking my cock, glaring at me. The heat was intense, the eroticism blazing between us.
I fisted my cock, Nancy furiously polishing her clit. Our bodies bowed under the sensual pressure, my chest and abdominal muscles seizing up, Nancy’s breasts rippling, with the frenzied exertion of our hands and fingers.
“Oh, God, Matthew, I’m coming!” she cried, bucking against the wall, frantically jilting herself to orgasm.
“Fuck, baby! Yes!” I yelled back, jetting cum out of my hand-cranked cock and into the tub.
The pair of us cumming and cumming four feet away from each other, connected.
What happened the following evening, then, seemed just like the logical extension to that steamy shared masturbatory experience.
. . . . . . . . . .
“Aren’t the stars beautiful?” Nancy remarked, looking up at the twinkling night sky.
We were on the balcony of her apartment, stretched out in loungers right next to one another. But it wasn’t the sky I was looking at, it was Nancy’s lithe nude body glowing in the moonlight. I was as wonderfully naked as she was, my erection stretched out on my stomach, yearning to be stroked.
She turned her head and looked at me, her eyes glittering. And then she reached over with her left arm and gripped my throbbing cock in her hand. I yelped in pleasure, as I was startled by her touch.
Her hand was warm, her palm smooth, as her long fingers laced my shaft and glided up and down. I slipped my own arm under her arm, grasping one of her breasts and squeezing.
“Yes, Matthew!” she moaned, her fingernails biting into my cock.
I groped and rubbed her ripe breast, her pale skin smooth and shiny as satin. Then I latched my fingers onto her stiffened nipple and rolled the rubbery bud between them. I could feel her heart beating through the engorged appendage, in rhythm to the pulse of my cock in her silky hand. She resumed her stroking, swirling up and down my length.
Mutual masturbation, it was the next natural step after watching each other get off. And it’d been conservative Nancy’s idea to do it outside on the balcony, to add even more excitement to the erotic event. Not that it needed more.
I leaned back in the lounger and closed my eyes and rolled my head from side to side, reveling in the sensual feel of the woman’s hand traveling along my shaft and up and over my cap. She’d claimed she’d never done it before – jerk a guy off – but you’d never know it from the way she worked my cock, tugging slowly and firmly, then lightly and quickly, corkscrewing her fingers around the ultra-sensitive part of my shaft just below the head.
Until she dug her nails into my cock, making me jump out of my trance. I opened my eyes and looked at her. She glanced meaningfully from my hand absently fondling her tit to her pussy. “Oh, yeah, right,” I mumbled.
I slid my hand off her breast and down her gleaming body. Her stomach muscles tightened, as my fingertips glided across her taut skin. And then she gasped, when I brushed my fingers along the top of her swollen clit.
“Yes, rub me, Matthew! Please, rub me!” she groaned.
I cleared my throat to remind her, and she started pumping my cock again. I buffed her clit, the little pink button wet and hard beneath my fingers.
Our breathing grew shallower, more ragged. We burned with the heat of each other so close, our hands and fingers stroking and rubbing our most intimate parts, out there in the open under the stars. We were in complete sexual commune with one another; Nancy’s hand flying up and down my hard cock, pulling me to the brink, my hand on her dripping wet pussy, rubbing her over the edge.
I gripped her mound and hooked two fingers inside. She arched up off her lounger, pulling my cock even higher. I pumped her slit, strumming her clit with my thumb. And her fingers noosed my shaft in an ‘o’ and sailed along, tantalizing me, forcing my hips up and frantically pumping at her hand.
We bit our lips and held our breath, desperately staring at one another, our bodies quivering with imminent release, fingers and hands urgently working. The sultry night hushed with anticipation. Until we both cried out, as one.
Nancy gushed against my pistoning fingers, vibrating against my hand. At the same time, I surged up and shot off a burst, another, and another; her wildly stroking hand eliciting a volcano from my cock.
I never knew it before, but I sure know it now: masturbation isn’t some dirty little secret to keep all to yourself, it’s an erotic joy to be shared with others.