Your eyes travel across the screen as you read the sexy story. Nobody knows that you read them. You started reading them as research, curiosity and the to help fill need to learn what you innocently never knew. Your eyes take in the words of how the hands caress a cock then it caresses a pussy.
You feel the flutter of arousal beat its first thrum into your core and shift in the chair. Licking your lips you keep reading about sucked nipples and plunging fingers and your own naked nipples pucker. The flutters become indistinguishable and settle into a deep need between your legs that you shift to part. Heat and the gentle scent of arousal escape as you flick your thumbs over your taught nipples.
Faster your eyes take in the sexy words of grasping hands and deep hard thrusts as you wiggle your hips. pushing your mound against the cushioned fabric of the towel covered chair you pinch your naked exposed nipples. For a moment your eyes dart from the screen and around the empty dark room. The desirable pulse between your legs urges you to lean back in the chair.
You read about slippery cocks and slip your hand down to your already naked pussy. With a gentle stroke you slip your middle finger between your wet hot folds as you read about wet blinding orgasms.
Your finger enters your eager hot hole and you draw it out. Shiny in the light of the computer screen. The woman being fucked from behind was licking another woman in the story as you tentatively part your lips and dart your tongue out to taste of what you’ve never tasted before.
The rich smell of wet arousal on your finger tastes salty and pleasant and so you envelop the finger with your own mouth and suck. The sudden surge of arousal was undeniable. You dip your fingers back in and suck them again moaning softly. Your left hand rubs and grabs at your breasts as you pant and lap up your own juices. The pressure becomes too much to bear and you shove two fingers deep inside yourself. With one hand pumping and the other rubbing your clit, you pull your legs up spreading wide.
The urgency curls your toes and the orgasm releases. You attempt to keep stroking but your thighs clamp on your hands and your body jerks with pleasure. When you open your eyes and remove your hands, your shiny fingers make your tongue tingle. You lick and suck them clean as you continue to read about the couple who brought another woman into the mix. It’s what your husband wants and as you study the erotic stories, it becomes your own want.
It’s been over a year since my husband left me for another woman. Since then I’ve discovered the joy of real deep down sexual pleasure. The kind that I discovered on my own. I had no idea it was missing from our marriage bed.
There is something swirling in my mind that’s stirring up my insides. An image of a hand tending to its own body as it works to bring forth the pleasure and release. An image imprinted from a sexy tasteful black and white video I watched yesterday.
The hand moves slowly at first before it finds the eliciting pattern needed. I blink the image away and look around my kitchen. I stared at the faucet dripping steady, turn it off and indirectly marvel at the rise and fall of my breasts, how sexy they look in my new push-up bra. The image of the agile fingers playing gently across tight silky skin reappeared as I carried the two cups of tea to the table.
My heated blood flushed my cheeks as I sat and listened to my friend Isla talk with her singsong voice. Despite the conversation, my mind played the mini movie on repeat. Stroke, rub, moan, squeeze, grab, grunt and come. Like a prisoner, I was trapped in my vision as much as I was trapped in the conversation keeping me from re-enacting the video.
Disrespecting my boundaries, my mind took off on its own adding a sweet soundtrack to the flashes of imagery. Heavy breathing, soft moans, and the sexy sound legs make when shifting abruptly over bed sheets from throws of self-induced passion.
The tightening inside the core of my sex became luxurious and called for me to take action. I should not be feeling this way or think these things so openly in my kitchen with company over.
Over my hot tea, I watched my friend Isla’s lips form the words of her story. I held my breath as the glistening tip of her tongue poked out to moisten the soft flesh. I’ve never even kissed a woman before so I had no idea why I was so aroused by the sight. Isla and I fingered ourselves in the same room one drunken night, but nothing happened or came of it.
My nipples tightened upon seeing hers pucker beneath her blouse, sending a tingle that bounced between my breasts and my clit. Up and down and back again repeatedly. The thick thud of my pulse between my legs became too much to ignore.
I should excuse myself and seek out privacy, but I couldn’t move.
I leaned forward, rested my left elbow on the small kitchen table. I set my chin on my hand curling my fingers in so the knuckles pressed against my mouth. My right hand inched between my already parted legs as the images of the black and white hand in my head worked faster.
Isla kept telling her animated story of her trip to the Bahama’s for her brothers wedding.
I could feel the wet already dampening through my underwear to my thin leggings. With a stealthy move, I wiggled my finger, forcing the fabric between my hot southern lips until I found my clit. I began a gentle circular rub with only my index finger, sliding the wet fabrics creating a tantalizing friction.
I was so worked up and this was so ultra naughty that I brought myself fast. Clenching hard on nothing, my body climaxed from my own gentle solitary digit.
“Dammit Teri,” my friend Isla said sounding breathy. “I don’t know what it is about you today, but I’ve become super horny since I got here. Wanna go upstairs and watch each other finger ourselves again?”
“Or perhaps I could finger you?” I asked holding my breath.
The sultry smile that stretched her lips and the lusty glint in her dark brown eyes got my heart pumping a steady beat between my legs again.
“I thought you’d never ask.”
A Hansel and Gretel trail of discarded clothing followed us to my bedroom.
My hands shook as I closed the front door of my house, dropped my purse and keys on the table and pulled down the top of my spaghetti strap dress. I leaned against the cool wall and tugged on my nipples. I smiled at my reflection in the wall length mirror and pushed my dress down over my hips taking my underwear with it. I stepped out leaving my heels on and went back to fondling my breasts.
Reading erotica on the bus home and thinking dirty thoughts all day led me to this burst of out of control need. I moaned and ran my hands over my curvy body watching myself in the mirror. I’ve never done this before but the character in the book had. I stood here in broad daylight in front of a mirror. The idea stuck and I had to do it.
I spread my legs and gasped at how shiny and swollen I’d become. The lightest touch from my fingers sent spasms of pleasure through my lips to my clit. I wondered how wet I could get and spread myself to look. I leaned up against the wall and began rubbing my clit in gentle circles.
I’ve always been shy about sex, and lately, I’ve been reading more and more erotica. Some of it made me horny some made me cringe. I quickly found the sub-genres that made my blood rush and focused on them. I wanted to be more I wanted to explore and play. In my head after reading a story I’d feel brave, however the more time that passed after reading, the less bravado I felt.
I took in the view of my hand with my delicate petals pushing up between my fingers. I imagined myself a sexy woman in a novelette, the confident woman who could claim the pleasures she longed for.
I clenched and pulsed, I sunk to the floor as I pulled my heels closer to my bum and spread wide. The cold floor beneath me became warm as my body heated up fast.
Panting, groaning and rubbing marginally faster, I gasped when a sexy amount of viscous wet pooled at my opening. I tightened my pelvic muscles and it overflowed. The clear shiny line made its way over my taint to drip to the floor. It was happening I was doing what a woman in a sexy story might do.
“Oh yes,” I said rubbing my lips and clit faster, my pulse thundered in my chest and ears.
I closed my eyes and let my orgasm take over my body. The sweet sensation coated me and caressed my soul. There was more to this than one meager orgasm. I planned to watch myself finger my now dripping pussy.
I opened my eyes to see my husband standing with his mouth open, eyes burning with lust and a raging hard on in his hand and I grinned at my reflection as I disappeared two fingers deep inside as he fell to his knees stroking. Now was my moment to be bold.
A flicker of guilt, chased by a briefer moment of shame was overshadowed by my hefty surge of arousal. I peeked at my watch and silently crept up to my low kitchen window naked.
The sheer curtains would hide me from view; I’ve tested that theory so I know I’m safe. Again, the guilt and shame scratched at my gut before tickling my core. This was part of the dance, the routine I’ve become addicted to.
He was right on time. I knelt on the wide portable step stool I kept in front of the window for this purpose. I shopped for it carefully, choosing the perfect step stool to allow for comfort and the right kneeling height. To everyone else, it was a handy tool for me to reach the top shelves of my cupboards, for me it was my front row seat.
I let my bare breasts brush against the cold wall. The contact hardening them further as my naked neighbor entered his kitchen.
There were no coverings on his low window and it was wide open. My eyes slid down his glorious twenty-five-year-old body to rest upon his thick hard cock jutting proudly before him. Oh what a view! His hand moved from tip to base and back up so slowly I was transfixed.
I could hear my pulse in my ears and feel it between my legs. I was already slick from anticipation. I curled my fingers and raked the backs of my nails over my rigid nipples like an old-time washboard. I wiggled my hips and clenched as he opened the cupboard stretching and stroking as he took out a bowl. Sexy flutters from my core cause me to part my legs, perching my knees on the edges of the step stool.
He kept stroking as he reached up with one hand and brought a box of cereal out. I bit my bottom lip, grabbed handfuls of my breasts and squeezed while pinching my nipples hard. He was right beside the window and he paused to rub the the dripping head of his cock with his thumb spreading the pre-cum over and down as he began stroking again.
I knew he would stay in sight, he always did. He turned after filling the bowl giving me a head on view of more pre-cum leaking from his bulbous mushroom shaped tip. My right hand abandoned a breast to slip down my stomach and over my mound. Again, he thumbed the pre-cum over the head as he turned to pour milk into the bowl.
I slipped two my fingers deep inside myself as he turned again to put the milk back in the out of sight fridge. He could go and sit at the table I can’t see, but he won’t. His hand reached down to fondle his balls as he started eating. His cock jerked as it leaked more. What I wouldn’t give to lap it all up and swallow that beautiful thing deep in my throat.
My own juices trickled down my hand to my wrist as I began stroking myself. I fingered deep to match the movement of his hand as it resumed the lengthy journey from base to tip and back. I bit my lip harder to keep from making noise. I didn’t trust my closed window to keep my secret.
Faster and faster, we stroked until he stopped eating and faced the window completely. Matching his furious movements with my own, I watched him lean against his windowsill and with a few final strokes; he shot his seed out in thick spurts. I imagined it all landing on my face and tits instead of the concrete alley four stories below. Pretending to feel the hot fluid slip and slide down my breasts to my nipples and drip like honey to the floor. I collapsed to the cold tiles of my kitchen as my body shook and twitched with orgasmic release.
Laying on my back, I sucked my slick fingers wishing I were thirty years younger and thanking the architects who designed these intrusive apartment views.