Sex With My Roommate
It was during my junior year at college. I laid awake in bed after we turned the lights out. I was terribly horny; my roommate Diane had been studying in just her panties and the sight of her almost naked had me very aroused. I needed to come.
“Are you awake,” I whispered. Diane didn’t respond. She lay motionless beneath the covers. She lay on her side facing me, and she cuddled a pillow. I could tell, though, by the street light outside that her eyes were closed. And I could see her small breasts; her nipples were hard and erect. Must be a dream, I thought.
I slid my fingers under my panties and guided them through my trimmed pubic hair. I pressed on my pubic mound, which put pressure on my clit. I slowly rubbed my mound in a circular motion, letting my arousal build. I loved the feeling of growing arousal, the slow build from deep inside, then feeling my erotic side taking charge. After several minutes, I could feel my hips moving on their own and my breathing became ragged. I was ready. Cautiously, I slipped a couple fingers inside my slit, no penetration yet. I wanted to run my fingers up and down my slit and begin to stroke my clit. Touching my clit sent shivers through me. I slipped my fingers between my inner and outer lips and pressed them together, squeezing my lips together, while my thumb flicked my clit from side to side. I could feel my juices begin to dampen my panties. My hips rose and fell gently. On each rise of my hips, I let two fingers slip inside of my pussy. The flesh was warm and moist around them. As my hips fell, my fingers slipped almost outside my pussy. I finger-fucked myself slowly, fearing that I’d wake Diane if I moved too quickly. I closed my eyes and imagined that the fingers inside me belonged to Diane. I envisioned her lying next to me in just panties, fingering me.
Slowly, imitating a cock, I slid my fingers back and forth. My erotic side had taken over and I lost focus. My thoughts went to Diane, who was still lying on her side, facing me who lay beside me. Curiously, I wondered if she could hear me, if she could feel my moving, or what she would think if she knew what I was secretly doing under the blanket. A tiny part of my mind wanted me to fondle myself so loudly that I would wake her, so that she would see how lonely and horny I was. Still, though, I was afraid to be noisy.
As I brought myself closer to orgasm, I paid attention to Diane, enjoying the sight of her hard nipples and I became less concerned about how much racket I was making. I could hear my fingers squishing in my wet pussy, and I could hear my loud breathing, and I could feel the bed and blanket rocking as I was no longer keeping my legs still. Yet, I was confident that my sister was still sleeping. And then my orgasm washed over me. My contracting pussy sucked on my fingers as I orgasmed. I covered my mouth with my other hand lest I make any unintentional noises. My legs tightly closed, and my head jerked forward. The orgasm struck every fiber in my body.
I brought my fingers to my nose and sniffed them. I wrinkled my face at the smell of sex; I wiped my fingers on my panties and turned onto my side. Diane had not moved. I wondered how she would feel if she knew that I had masturbated, and especially if she knew I was for thinking about her while I was doing it. As my breathing returned to normal, I pulled up my panties and fell asleep.
Diane tempted others with her beauty. She never purposefully flaunted her body, but she was one of those girls who was sexy no matter what she wore. Her frame was perfect, and her small breasts filled her clothes nicely. Her height was average, five feet and six inches. She was athletic; she ran track for school and played softball in her spare time. We had been roommates for two years and hade become very close friends. I had not thought that I was into girls until I met Diane. She never seemed to date guys, and I began to date them less and less. Then, she and I began to hang out together
The next morning, I woke up before Diane. The sun lit the room, and the air was silent aside from the morning birds singing. Diane lay on her back; the blankets covered everything below her belly button. Her nipples still stood erect. Her brown hair, confused and tangled by her sleep, wrapped from the back of her head onto her neck and upper chest. Her arms lay stationary beside her. Her breasts rose as her lungs filled with air. Then her chest collapsed as she exhaled. Devilishly, I carefully tugged the blanket to her knees and was surprised to find that she wasn’t wearing panties. Her hairy pussy was exposed to the room, and her legs were spread. I had seen her pussy before, but I was still fascinated. I moved closer to examine it. Her slit was pink where the lips met, and I thought that it appeared to be wet. I wanted so badly to touch it, but I didn’t dare. I returned the covers over her body without waking her, dressed and went to class.
The next morning, Diane’s alarm clock woke up both of us. It was a Saturday, and she had softball practice in an hour. I, however, had nowhere to go. Diane climbed out of bed and I again saw that she had slept in the nude. We had no problems changing in front of each other, but I didn’t want her to know that I was gawking. I watched her change but still pretended to be asleep; I partially cracked my eyes so that they appeared closed. Diane took a very long time to get dressed. Her breasts were beautiful and bouncy, and when she bent over to pick up something from the floor, they pointed downward. Her ass was perfectly rounded, and her stomach was smooth and flat. Her shaven legs were shiny, and her pussy enticed my eyes more than anything else. She applied lotion to her flawless skin. She slid into her panties, then her sports bra, then her t-shirt, then her shorts. She tied her hair into a ponytail and exited the room.
The thoughts of excitement returned to my mind. Again, I hated myself for lusting after Diane, but I couldn’t help it, and I could feel my pussy getting wet as she dressed. After she left, I slid my panties down and removed my left leg so that they only wrapped around my right ankle. I took two fingers and rubbed the wetness around my pussy. I teased my pussy for a few moments; I waited to make sure that Diane wasn’t coming back into the room before I began properly fingering myself. After five minutes, I pushed two fingers inside of myself and began to imitate a cock. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, and since I was alone in the room, I was unconcerned with the volume of my excitement. Eventually, the squishing noises began as my fingers slid in and out. I took my other hand and crept it under my shirt; I tickled my hard nipples and cupped my squishy breasts in my hand. As I brought myself closer to orgasm, I sped the motion of my hand, and I imagined Diane getting closer to coming too.
Eventually, my hand was moving so fast that the blanket started to feel troublesome. Since Diane had left I tossed the blanket aside. As I approached orgasm, I covered my mouth, but just as a wave of pleasure nearly attacked my body, I heard the door fly open. I quickly opened my eyes and looked up. Diane stood in the doorway staring at me, unable to take her eyes off me. I was so deeply in shock that it took me five seconds to cover myself up.
“I forgot my water bottle,” she said walking toward the desk. When she spoke her voice nervously cracked.
She grabbed the bottle and quietly left the room. I was angry with myself for not being careful.
“Maybe she didn’t see it,” I reasoned with myself. But, she saw me with my panties around my ankle, breathing heavily and acting weird. Of course, she knew exactly what I was doing. She probably even heard the sounds in the hallway. Her seeing me destroyed all of the excitement in my body, and I was unable to finish myself off. I dressed myself and went to the library to study.
For the remained of that day Diane and I said nothing. Even at dinner she didn’t talk about anything. The thing that bothered me the most wasn’t that she walked in on me; I was mostly troubled by not knowing how Diane felt about masturbation and sexuality. I didn’t know what to say to her, and I presumed that she didn’t know what to say to me. Likewise, the next day, Sunday, Diane said nothing to me, and I said nothing to her. Every time we made eye contact we were reminded of the incident and quickly turned away from each other. It wasn’t until Sunday night that she broke the ice. We went to bed without speaking about the incident. After having lain for five or ten minutes in the dark, Diane spoke up in a fragile voice. “I wasn’t grossed out or anything.”
“What?” I murmured.
“About yesterday morning,” she continued. “I wasn’t grossed out by what you were doing.”
“Oh,” I replied. Immediately, I became anxious, and my heart began beating fast.
She added, “I just didn’t know what to say to you. You seemed humiliated.”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
She was silent for another minute. She lay on her back with her arms behind her head as if she were gazing at the stars and deeply thinking. Again, she broke the silence with a shaky voice. “I do it too.” She paused again, then said, “sometimes.”
“Oh,” I said again. I was unsure of how to respond. Evidently, Diane wasn’t any braver than me. Her shaky voice and her pausing between words and sentences made it obvious that she was nervous. Finally, I gathered the courage to ask, “where?”
There was another pause. “In the bathroom,” she responded. She stopped again, then said, “but I have to rush.” Once more, she hesitated, then added, “sometimes I do it…I do it at school.”
I turned to my side and faced her. She turned her head toward me, still on her back. “I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t grossed out,” she asserted.
“Okay,” I mumbled.
My heart beat faster. “I think we should be more open with each other,” she requested.
She rolled onto her side and faced me. She whispered, “who do you think about when you touch yourself?”
“Nobody,” I timidly replied, but she caught me in the obvious lie.
“Come on,” she whispered, “who?” “Boys?”
“I used to, but now I think about being with a girl.” Diane smiled “Anyone in particular?”
“Maybe,” I replied.
“Who,” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“You’re such a bad liar,” she accused of me while giggling and slapping my shoulder.
“You” I whispered, fearing her reaction. But I noticed the familiar tingling feeling returning to my pussy.
Diane whispered, “I’ll let you do me if I can do you.” I didn’t respond immediately, and before I could say ‘yes,’ Diane said, “or maybe not if that’s not what you want to do.” I could hear the uneasiness in her voice. But I scooted over onto her bed. I looked her in the eyes and nodded “I would like that.”
Diane sat up, moved toward me, and threw the covers down so that only my feet were covered. “Take off your panties,” she commanded. I slid them down to my ankles and threw them to the side of the bed. Diane turned on her nightstand lamp, then gently placed her hand on my pussy mound. Her palm rested on my mound and two of her fingers touched my pussy’s lips. Her fingers were cold, and she didn’t move them. She looked at me to make sure that I had not changed my mind. I lifted my eyebrows as if to silently say, “Yes.”
Then she slowly moved her fingers in a circular motion around my pussy, spreading its natural lubrication around. Already, my heart was thumping so hard that I could hardly hear myself think. Diane changed positions; while I still lay on my back, she crawled between my legs and sat on her butt. She fiddled her fingers in and around my pussy. She was involved in her own world of exploration, closely examining my pussy. Her face showed curiosity, and it looked as if she was looking for something. She even smelled her wet finger, and she smiled at my smell.
Still looking at my pussy, she asked, “Do you want me to…” She didn’t finish the question, but I answered, “yes.” Now, Diane and I avoided eye contact and didn’t say anything. She inserted her middle and ring fingers into my pussy, sending a torrent of pleasure throughout my body. She withdrew her fingers, then plunged them in again. She repeated this motion over and over, and every time, the friction between her fingers and my pussy juice made a sopping noise.
Diane’s touch was magical. Her fingers played my pussy like a violin, exciting every inch. I could feel her fingers straddle my inner lips while her thumb gently worked over my clit. When she sensed my arousal was getting ahead of where she wanted me, she would stop fingering me and let my arousal ease. Diane slid off me and lay on her side facing me. Her mouth began to nibble and suck on my now hard nipple. “Kiss me” I whispered. Diane lightly touched her lips to mine. Our tongues met but hers was tantalizing, touching then retreating. The way she was taking me so gently, light touches everywhere, had me on erotic overload. The extraordinary feeling in my pussy grew. The pleasure, which began as a tingling feeling now felt like a dam about to burst.
I could feel Diane’s mouth moving down my body. As her hair grazed my stomach, I realized she was going to go down on me. My breathing was now in short erotic gasps and I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. As Diane took my clit between her teeth, my hips started to move without my control. I hung my mouth open and breathed heavily.
I grabbed a pillow and shoved the corner into my mouth to muffle my heavy breathing and any potential, unintentional moans. Suddenly, I felt like I had to pee. I almost asked Diane to stop, but the pleasure was so intense that I wanted it to never end. The wall of pleasure in my pussy now escaped into the rest of my body. My stomach started to tingle, then my legs, arms, and torso. Finally, I started to orgasm; my hips sank into the bed and my chest rose into the air. The pleasure shot down my spine and resounded into every limb of my body. My toes curled, and my fingernails dug into the fabric of the bed. I moaned through the pillow in my mouth. I lost control of my body; my legs trembled, and I nearly squashed Diane’s head when I clapped them together. I felt my pussy juicing more than I could remember and I heard its distinct sound. Diane pulled her head away from my pussy, but my body continued to shake.
When my quivering stopped, I covered my face with my hands in exhaustion. I could hardly breathe. The air in the room felt cool on my skin, damp with sweat, and my pussy, soaked with come. I looked down at Diane. I saw my breasts moving up and down quickly because I was breathing heavily. Diane’s mouth was covered with my come. Not knowing what to do with it, she wiped it off with the blanket. The bed sheets below me were also stained. Now, Diane sat in astonishment staring at me.
Diane, still speechless, crawled beside me and lay on her back. She stared at the ceiling. Slowly, I crawled toward Diane’s feet. I pulled her legs apart and slowly slid between them, gently stroking her thighs. Her pussy was already wet and her juices were starting to drip downward between her crack and onto her thighs. I leaned forward and touched it with one finger. Her body jerked in sexual excitement. I began to slide my finger up and down her slit and saw that her lips were already contracting; her pussy’s sensitivity seemed outrageous. I glanced at her face, but she still looked at the ceiling.
I inserted the same finger inside of her pussy. It was wet, warm, and tight. Diane was breathing hard and I could feel the walls of her pussy clenching around my finger. I pulled my finger out and some of her lubrication came with it. I brought my finger to my mouth and tasted her. Then, just like Diane did to me, I pushed two of my fingers inside of her. Her pussy was so narrow that I doubt three fingers would have fit her comfortably. I wiggled them around, trying to feel what it was like, and I heard her gasp. I pulled the fingers out, then pushed them in again. Again, over and over, I thrust myself into her then pulled away. My fingers slid with ease because of her pussy’s lubrication.
It didn’t take long for Diane to begin enjoying the pleasure. She closed her eyes and buried her face in a pillow. After a few moments, my hand was tired and began to cramp. I switch positions; I crawled beside her and lay on my side, this time using my other hand. I continued to slide my fingers in and out of her pussy. With every stroke, she shimmered, and with every passing moment, her breathing accelerated.
I heard a noise in the hallway and immediately retracted my finger. Diane sat up and turned off the light. We quickly threw the covers over ourselves and pretended to sleep in case one of our clustermates entered the room. Keeping still and silent was complicated. I could hear Diane’s heart beating in her breaths. The footsteps passed our room then proceeded down the hallway.
We had waited for several moments before we decided it was safe to resume, but we kept the light off and stayed under the covers. I lay beside Diane and pulled the covers over our heads. Now, my head was right next to hers, and she faced me. Every time she breathed, I could feel the warm air crawl over my damp skin. I reached over and began to lightly kiss her as I slipped my fingers back into her dripping pussy and continued my fingering. The pleasure rapidly returned to her. She let go soft, breathless moans into my ear. Her elbows jabbed into the mattress, and her head collapsed and leaned on my shoulder. I could feel her pulse through her head. Her pussy got wetter and wetter, and I could tell that she was about to explode.
Diane took one last breath before she orgasmed. Her pussy contracted, and it ejaculated onto my fingers. The orgasm halted her breathing; she sounded like she was unable to gasp. Then she exhaled loudly and followed it with deep, rapid breathing. Her arms flailed about the bed as if they were unsure where to stay. Her legs shook like an earthquake, and her head jerked up and down. I pulled my hand away and watched as her orgasm vibrated throughout her body without interruption. She twitched and gasped and moaned.
I turned the light back on. Her skin was covered with goosebumps and sweat. Her pussy was doused; her soft pubes were wet and gooey, and random drops of cum were spattered on her thighs. Some of her cum spilled onto the bedsheets. Some of her cum stayed on my fingers. For a moment, I played with it, examining its consistency and texture. Then I wiped the goo on the bedsheets.
The room smelled like sex, and the evidence of sex was smeared into the sheets. I grabbed my towel, which hung from the wall. I wiped my pussy, then handed it to Diane; she cleaned herself. Still, without saying a word, and without getting back into our clothes, we pulled the blanket over ourselves and fell asleep.
“Are you awake,” I whispered. Diane didn’t respond. She lay motionless beneath the covers. She lay on her side facing me, and she cuddled a pillow. I could tell, though, by the street light outside that her eyes were closed. And I could see her small breasts; her nipples were hard and erect. Must be a dream, I thought.
I slid my fingers under my panties and guided them through my trimmed pubic hair. I pressed on my pubic mound, which put pressure on my clit. I slowly rubbed my mound in a circular motion, letting my arousal build. I loved the feeling of growing arousal, the slow build from deep inside, then feeling my erotic side taking charge. After several minutes, I could feel my hips moving on their own and my breathing became ragged. I was ready. Cautiously, I slipped a couple fingers inside my slit, no penetration yet. I wanted to run my fingers up and down my slit and begin to stroke my clit. Touching my clit sent shivers through me. I slipped my fingers between my inner and outer lips and pressed them together, squeezing my lips together, while my thumb flicked my clit from side to side. I could feel my juices begin to dampen my panties. My hips rose and fell gently. On each rise of my hips, I let two fingers slip inside of my pussy. The flesh was warm and moist around them. As my hips fell, my fingers slipped almost outside my pussy. I finger-fucked myself slowly, fearing that I’d wake Diane if I moved too quickly. I closed my eyes and imagined that the fingers inside me belonged to Diane. I envisioned her lying next to me in just panties, fingering me.
Slowly, imitating a cock, I slid my fingers back and forth. My erotic side had taken over and I lost focus. My thoughts went to Diane, who was still lying on her side, facing me who lay beside me. Curiously, I wondered if she could hear me, if she could feel my moving, or what she would think if she knew what I was secretly doing under the blanket. A tiny part of my mind wanted me to fondle myself so loudly that I would wake her, so that she would see how lonely and horny I was. Still, though, I was afraid to be noisy.
As I brought myself closer to orgasm, I paid attention to Diane, enjoying the sight of her hard nipples and I became less concerned about how much racket I was making. I could hear my fingers squishing in my wet pussy, and I could hear my loud breathing, and I could feel the bed and blanket rocking as I was no longer keeping my legs still. Yet, I was confident that my sister was still sleeping. And then my orgasm washed over me. My contracting pussy sucked on my fingers as I orgasmed. I covered my mouth with my other hand lest I make any unintentional noises. My legs tightly closed, and my head jerked forward. The orgasm struck every fiber in my body.
I brought my fingers to my nose and sniffed them. I wrinkled my face at the smell of sex; I wiped my fingers on my panties and turned onto my side. Diane had not moved. I wondered how she would feel if she knew that I had masturbated, and especially if she knew I was for thinking about her while I was doing it. As my breathing returned to normal, I pulled up my panties and fell asleep.
Diane tempted others with her beauty. She never purposefully flaunted her body, but she was one of those girls who was sexy no matter what she wore. Her frame was perfect, and her small breasts filled her clothes nicely. Her height was average, five feet and six inches. She was athletic; she ran track for school and played softball in her spare time. We had been roommates for two years and hade become very close friends. I had not thought that I was into girls until I met Diane. She never seemed to date guys, and I began to date them less and less. Then, she and I began to hang out together
The next morning, I woke up before Diane. The sun lit the room, and the air was silent aside from the morning birds singing. Diane lay on her back; the blankets covered everything below her belly button. Her nipples still stood erect. Her brown hair, confused and tangled by her sleep, wrapped from the back of her head onto her neck and upper chest. Her arms lay stationary beside her. Her breasts rose as her lungs filled with air. Then her chest collapsed as she exhaled. Devilishly, I carefully tugged the blanket to her knees and was surprised to find that she wasn’t wearing panties. Her hairy pussy was exposed to the room, and her legs were spread. I had seen her pussy before, but I was still fascinated. I moved closer to examine it. Her slit was pink where the lips met, and I thought that it appeared to be wet. I wanted so badly to touch it, but I didn’t dare. I returned the covers over her body without waking her, dressed and went to class.
The next morning, Diane’s alarm clock woke up both of us. It was a Saturday, and she had softball practice in an hour. I, however, had nowhere to go. Diane climbed out of bed and I again saw that she had slept in the nude. We had no problems changing in front of each other, but I didn’t want her to know that I was gawking. I watched her change but still pretended to be asleep; I partially cracked my eyes so that they appeared closed. Diane took a very long time to get dressed. Her breasts were beautiful and bouncy, and when she bent over to pick up something from the floor, they pointed downward. Her ass was perfectly rounded, and her stomach was smooth and flat. Her shaven legs were shiny, and her pussy enticed my eyes more than anything else. She applied lotion to her flawless skin. She slid into her panties, then her sports bra, then her t-shirt, then her shorts. She tied her hair into a ponytail and exited the room.
The thoughts of excitement returned to my mind. Again, I hated myself for lusting after Diane, but I couldn’t help it, and I could feel my pussy getting wet as she dressed. After she left, I slid my panties down and removed my left leg so that they only wrapped around my right ankle. I took two fingers and rubbed the wetness around my pussy. I teased my pussy for a few moments; I waited to make sure that Diane wasn’t coming back into the room before I began properly fingering myself. After five minutes, I pushed two fingers inside of myself and began to imitate a cock. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back, and since I was alone in the room, I was unconcerned with the volume of my excitement. Eventually, the squishing noises began as my fingers slid in and out. I took my other hand and crept it under my shirt; I tickled my hard nipples and cupped my squishy breasts in my hand. As I brought myself closer to orgasm, I sped the motion of my hand, and I imagined Diane getting closer to coming too.
Eventually, my hand was moving so fast that the blanket started to feel troublesome. Since Diane had left I tossed the blanket aside. As I approached orgasm, I covered my mouth, but just as a wave of pleasure nearly attacked my body, I heard the door fly open. I quickly opened my eyes and looked up. Diane stood in the doorway staring at me, unable to take her eyes off me. I was so deeply in shock that it took me five seconds to cover myself up.
“I forgot my water bottle,” she said walking toward the desk. When she spoke her voice nervously cracked.
She grabbed the bottle and quietly left the room. I was angry with myself for not being careful.
“Maybe she didn’t see it,” I reasoned with myself. But, she saw me with my panties around my ankle, breathing heavily and acting weird. Of course, she knew exactly what I was doing. She probably even heard the sounds in the hallway. Her seeing me destroyed all of the excitement in my body, and I was unable to finish myself off. I dressed myself and went to the library to study.
For the remained of that day Diane and I said nothing. Even at dinner she didn’t talk about anything. The thing that bothered me the most wasn’t that she walked in on me; I was mostly troubled by not knowing how Diane felt about masturbation and sexuality. I didn’t know what to say to her, and I presumed that she didn’t know what to say to me. Likewise, the next day, Sunday, Diane said nothing to me, and I said nothing to her. Every time we made eye contact we were reminded of the incident and quickly turned away from each other. It wasn’t until Sunday night that she broke the ice. We went to bed without speaking about the incident. After having lain for five or ten minutes in the dark, Diane spoke up in a fragile voice. “I wasn’t grossed out or anything.”
“What?” I murmured.
“About yesterday morning,” she continued. “I wasn’t grossed out by what you were doing.”
“Oh,” I replied. Immediately, I became anxious, and my heart began beating fast.
She added, “I just didn’t know what to say to you. You seemed humiliated.”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
She was silent for another minute. She lay on her back with her arms behind her head as if she were gazing at the stars and deeply thinking. Again, she broke the silence with a shaky voice. “I do it too.” She paused again, then said, “sometimes.”
“Oh,” I said again. I was unsure of how to respond. Evidently, Diane wasn’t any braver than me. Her shaky voice and her pausing between words and sentences made it obvious that she was nervous. Finally, I gathered the courage to ask, “where?”
There was another pause. “In the bathroom,” she responded. She stopped again, then said, “but I have to rush.” Once more, she hesitated, then added, “sometimes I do it…I do it at school.”
I turned to my side and faced her. She turned her head toward me, still on her back. “I just wanted you to know that I wasn’t grossed out,” she asserted.
“Okay,” I mumbled.
My heart beat faster. “I think we should be more open with each other,” she requested.
She rolled onto her side and faced me. She whispered, “who do you think about when you touch yourself?”
“Nobody,” I timidly replied, but she caught me in the obvious lie.
“Come on,” she whispered, “who?” “Boys?”
“I used to, but now I think about being with a girl.” Diane smiled “Anyone in particular?”
“Maybe,” I replied.
“Who,” she asked.
“I don’t know,” I lied.
“You’re such a bad liar,” she accused of me while giggling and slapping my shoulder.
“You” I whispered, fearing her reaction. But I noticed the familiar tingling feeling returning to my pussy.
Diane whispered, “I’ll let you do me if I can do you.” I didn’t respond immediately, and before I could say ‘yes,’ Diane said, “or maybe not if that’s not what you want to do.” I could hear the uneasiness in her voice. But I scooted over onto her bed. I looked her in the eyes and nodded “I would like that.”
Diane sat up, moved toward me, and threw the covers down so that only my feet were covered. “Take off your panties,” she commanded. I slid them down to my ankles and threw them to the side of the bed. Diane turned on her nightstand lamp, then gently placed her hand on my pussy mound. Her palm rested on my mound and two of her fingers touched my pussy’s lips. Her fingers were cold, and she didn’t move them. She looked at me to make sure that I had not changed my mind. I lifted my eyebrows as if to silently say, “Yes.”
Then she slowly moved her fingers in a circular motion around my pussy, spreading its natural lubrication around. Already, my heart was thumping so hard that I could hardly hear myself think. Diane changed positions; while I still lay on my back, she crawled between my legs and sat on her butt. She fiddled her fingers in and around my pussy. She was involved in her own world of exploration, closely examining my pussy. Her face showed curiosity, and it looked as if she was looking for something. She even smelled her wet finger, and she smiled at my smell.
Still looking at my pussy, she asked, “Do you want me to…” She didn’t finish the question, but I answered, “yes.” Now, Diane and I avoided eye contact and didn’t say anything. She inserted her middle and ring fingers into my pussy, sending a torrent of pleasure throughout my body. She withdrew her fingers, then plunged them in again. She repeated this motion over and over, and every time, the friction between her fingers and my pussy juice made a sopping noise.
Diane’s touch was magical. Her fingers played my pussy like a violin, exciting every inch. I could feel her fingers straddle my inner lips while her thumb gently worked over my clit. When she sensed my arousal was getting ahead of where she wanted me, she would stop fingering me and let my arousal ease. Diane slid off me and lay on her side facing me. Her mouth began to nibble and suck on my now hard nipple. “Kiss me” I whispered. Diane lightly touched her lips to mine. Our tongues met but hers was tantalizing, touching then retreating. The way she was taking me so gently, light touches everywhere, had me on erotic overload. The extraordinary feeling in my pussy grew. The pleasure, which began as a tingling feeling now felt like a dam about to burst.
I could feel Diane’s mouth moving down my body. As her hair grazed my stomach, I realized she was going to go down on me. My breathing was now in short erotic gasps and I closed my eyes and leaned my head back. As Diane took my clit between her teeth, my hips started to move without my control. I hung my mouth open and breathed heavily.
I grabbed a pillow and shoved the corner into my mouth to muffle my heavy breathing and any potential, unintentional moans. Suddenly, I felt like I had to pee. I almost asked Diane to stop, but the pleasure was so intense that I wanted it to never end. The wall of pleasure in my pussy now escaped into the rest of my body. My stomach started to tingle, then my legs, arms, and torso. Finally, I started to orgasm; my hips sank into the bed and my chest rose into the air. The pleasure shot down my spine and resounded into every limb of my body. My toes curled, and my fingernails dug into the fabric of the bed. I moaned through the pillow in my mouth. I lost control of my body; my legs trembled, and I nearly squashed Diane’s head when I clapped them together. I felt my pussy juicing more than I could remember and I heard its distinct sound. Diane pulled her head away from my pussy, but my body continued to shake.
When my quivering stopped, I covered my face with my hands in exhaustion. I could hardly breathe. The air in the room felt cool on my skin, damp with sweat, and my pussy, soaked with come. I looked down at Diane. I saw my breasts moving up and down quickly because I was breathing heavily. Diane’s mouth was covered with my come. Not knowing what to do with it, she wiped it off with the blanket. The bed sheets below me were also stained. Now, Diane sat in astonishment staring at me.
Diane, still speechless, crawled beside me and lay on her back. She stared at the ceiling. Slowly, I crawled toward Diane’s feet. I pulled her legs apart and slowly slid between them, gently stroking her thighs. Her pussy was already wet and her juices were starting to drip downward between her crack and onto her thighs. I leaned forward and touched it with one finger. Her body jerked in sexual excitement. I began to slide my finger up and down her slit and saw that her lips were already contracting; her pussy’s sensitivity seemed outrageous. I glanced at her face, but she still looked at the ceiling.
I inserted the same finger inside of her pussy. It was wet, warm, and tight. Diane was breathing hard and I could feel the walls of her pussy clenching around my finger. I pulled my finger out and some of her lubrication came with it. I brought my finger to my mouth and tasted her. Then, just like Diane did to me, I pushed two of my fingers inside of her. Her pussy was so narrow that I doubt three fingers would have fit her comfortably. I wiggled them around, trying to feel what it was like, and I heard her gasp. I pulled the fingers out, then pushed them in again. Again, over and over, I thrust myself into her then pulled away. My fingers slid with ease because of her pussy’s lubrication.
It didn’t take long for Diane to begin enjoying the pleasure. She closed her eyes and buried her face in a pillow. After a few moments, my hand was tired and began to cramp. I switch positions; I crawled beside her and lay on my side, this time using my other hand. I continued to slide my fingers in and out of her pussy. With every stroke, she shimmered, and with every passing moment, her breathing accelerated.
I heard a noise in the hallway and immediately retracted my finger. Diane sat up and turned off the light. We quickly threw the covers over ourselves and pretended to sleep in case one of our clustermates entered the room. Keeping still and silent was complicated. I could hear Diane’s heart beating in her breaths. The footsteps passed our room then proceeded down the hallway.
We had waited for several moments before we decided it was safe to resume, but we kept the light off and stayed under the covers. I lay beside Diane and pulled the covers over our heads. Now, my head was right next to hers, and she faced me. Every time she breathed, I could feel the warm air crawl over my damp skin. I reached over and began to lightly kiss her as I slipped my fingers back into her dripping pussy and continued my fingering. The pleasure rapidly returned to her. She let go soft, breathless moans into my ear. Her elbows jabbed into the mattress, and her head collapsed and leaned on my shoulder. I could feel her pulse through her head. Her pussy got wetter and wetter, and I could tell that she was about to explode.
Diane took one last breath before she orgasmed. Her pussy contracted, and it ejaculated onto my fingers. The orgasm halted her breathing; she sounded like she was unable to gasp. Then she exhaled loudly and followed it with deep, rapid breathing. Her arms flailed about the bed as if they were unsure where to stay. Her legs shook like an earthquake, and her head jerked up and down. I pulled my hand away and watched as her orgasm vibrated throughout her body without interruption. She twitched and gasped and moaned.
I turned the light back on. Her skin was covered with goosebumps and sweat. Her pussy was doused; her soft pubes were wet and gooey, and random drops of cum were spattered on her thighs. Some of her cum spilled onto the bedsheets. Some of her cum stayed on my fingers. For a moment, I played with it, examining its consistency and texture. Then I wiped the goo on the bedsheets.
The room smelled like sex, and the evidence of sex was smeared into the sheets. I grabbed my towel, which hung from the wall. I wiped my pussy, then handed it to Diane; she cleaned herself. Still, without saying a word, and without getting back into our clothes, we pulled the blanket over ourselves and fell asleep.
2 years ago
