Sweat was gathering on the goose-pimpled skin between her breasts, her arms lay to her sides, one hand holding a glistening lavender vibrator, juices extending like snail-trails to a pouting engorged vulva and spewing forth on the sheets between her legs. The muscles in her abdomen contracted erratically and she bit hard on her bottom lip, rosy red like the lips of her cunt. It was a quiet orgasm, the only sound being the crumpling of crisp cotton as her free fist clenched. She punished herself, energy rising and waning, seven times before ecstasy was allowed to envelop her. Messy pubic hair clumped in moist curls camouflaged her vagina and drops of her cum collected on the tips. Her nipples extended high from contracted rippling brown aureoles nestled in a sea of luxurious ivory flesh.

It was minutes before she said, "Come… …clean up this mess".

With my chest thumping in my head I felt my fingernails indenting the palm of the hand holding her camisole, the fabric hanging low and resting against my throbbing penis. I had my own mess to contend with and it was oozing over my right hand as it tightly gripped a purple-headed monster. Her panties were around my thighs. My testicles ached, drained. I never imagined that I could produce an erection so sustained and as large as this. I could smell my seminal fluids dripping down the interior of the closet mixed with the cleanliness of fabric softener and detergent.

Why the hell was I in her closet? Good question.

She teased me; she had always teased me. It wasn't embarrassing to be in her closet. Realistically we knew each other well – we had lived beside each other forever. We shared windows that overlooked the yards between our homes.

That's how she teased me.

What the devil is a horny boy to do? I had to have the camisole. My mind ached to know what that fabric felt like against her skin. My imagination made me wet. I wanted to be wet inside her panties. I wanted to lie on her bed and masturbate like I did the night before.

She knew I watched her, I knew she watched me, although truth be known my benefits greatly outweighed hers. She runs. She left the door unlocked.

Her breath was speeding up again. I could feel her pulse quickening on my cheek from the soft flesh inside her leg. Musky warm scents wafted more frequently from her cunt. Salty feminine flavors mixing with soap scents. She knew what she wanted and she pushed me away so my tongue could only graze the tips of her forest before grasping my hair and pulling me forward to feel the full rasping of my tongue against her clitoris and folds.

        *********************************************

I'd wasted so many chances with him. What was I so afraid of? Being the girl next door? Christ, I already am the girl next door! It's about time I did something nice. He's kinda cute in an awkward semi-adolescent kind of way; a little skinny. We moved here when I was a kid and we grew up together. That relationship faded when I started high school; stupid teenage girls. I ignored him, he adores me, and actually, I adore him.

  I tease him sexually and emotionally. I purposefully stand naked in front of my window. I pretend I don't notice him spying on me and he pretends he doesn't notice me doing the same to him. He gets a kick out of my underwear. He has several pairs of my panties that he stole off the washing line. And God can he masturbate. He masturbates for me like there is no tomorrow.

I hatched my plan. I bought the most beautiful camisole/panty set, lace covering the breasts but transparent enough, lace covering my vulva but allowing the darkness of my pubic hair to be seen. The fabric was like a summer breeze – cooling and sensual.

I modelled it for him. I could see the bulge in his pants from my house. He lay down on his bed and jerked off for at least half an hour collecting the semen in a wad of tissue. I knew he wanted it – tomorrow I would make sure he got it.

I run, it keeps me looking sexy! Quite frankly, my legs get flabby without it and now I'm addicted to it. Actually, I don't run I jog, that's a better description. I left the back door unlocked. As I ran, I imagined his heart beating in his chest as he stole into our house. I imagined him rummaging through my underwear drawer to find his prize. I imagined him lying on my bed caressing himself with the fabric of my camisole. I imagined his penis growing and glistening at the head with pre-cum lubrication.

I felt energized; I waltzed happily into my room. I ached for him to be there but was disappointed. Everything was as I had left it; it was a stupid plan anyway. Why the hell would he steal into our house, let alone lie in wait for me on my bed naked and pulsating? I needed to cool down. I stretched and felt goose pimples rising on my skin…

My heart rate increasing, I stripped off my sports clothes and lay spread-eagled on my bed. I lay there for some time but he didn't reveal himself. I fondled myself…

To really get his testicles exploding I reached across to collect my magic stick from the bedside cabinet. I got to work. Round and round my nipples and breasts, across my abdomen, up and down my inner thigh. Round my folds - repeat. It was so much sexier with someone watching. My vulva became engorged and hot, my clit erect - it wanted it, so I gave it.

I eased the vibrator in and clamped my legs shut, clenching all my muscles, exposing all of me to the vibrations. Emotions were rising within me. Once, twice, three times. I punished myself for want of orgasm. I lost count.
I came, gripping the sheets with my clenched cheeks and free hand. Waves and waves of intensity and I ejaculated for the first time, ever!

I was a wreck. It took me minutes to recover. I was sopping wet; everything was wet.

And then I said to him: "Come, clean up this mess".

His erection was enormous. The head was swollen purple and its veins were popping out all over. There was semen oozing over his hand. He had my panties around his thighs. My camisole was wet with semen. He kicked off the panties and went straight down on me, licking me like melting ice cream. My clit felt raw. It was painful but pleasurable. I had to hold his head back to calm the burning. And then I wanted more.

I had two climaxes that day. Both as raunchy and dirty as a beginner could have ever imagined. I had my man. And he had eaten me.  

© Copyright Craig February 2009

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