angela146
Literotica Guru
- Joined
- Aug 29, 2003
- Posts
- 1,347
September 1993 - Freshman Year of College - A Saturday Morning
I had been half-awake for a while. The clock said 7:24. Should I get up or go back to sleep? It was warm - technically still summer for a few more days. I had a sheet over me and nothing on under it.
There was a rustling from my roommate's bed. I looked over and saw that her sheet had bunched up on the other side of the bed. Not surprising with the temperature in the mid-eighties.
She wasn't naked. Her silver-satin and black-lace bra and panties were smooth against her body. She lay on her stomach with her head turned toward me and her eyes closed, her mouth open and drooling onto the pillow, obviously asleep.
Was it wrong to look at her? It was mostly her left side. The perfect sculpture of her bottom, clad in silver, was visible at the crest of her silhouette against the back-light of the morning sun. There wasn't anything that I wouldn't normally see.
It's just that she was so pretty that way - and I could stare at her without feeling self-conscious.
I turned on my side and faced her. I couldn't see her breasts, even the side, because her arm was in the way, but I could see the straps of her bra against her back.
Her legs moved apart, slightly, and stiffened. The muscles of her thigh went taut along with the round muscles above them. She breathed in sharply. That's when I noticed that I couldn't see her hand at the end of her arm.
It was underneath her, inside her panties.
Was she? Really?
Yes. Oh, God, in her sleep? Oh my!
Her left knee bent, turning her slightly onto her side facing me, exposing part of her tummy and part of the face of her bra. I could see her fingers now, actually just the outline of backs of them, molded against the satin, rolling in rhythmic cycles, like a piano-player practising arpeggios.
She held that position for a while, her breathing deepening, her legs flexing and relaxing slightly in a slow rhythm.
She was still asleep.
I just lay on my side and watched in fascination, studying the details - I love details. Kelly is right handed, but it was her left hand inside her panties. She had it in through the waistband, not the leg opening.
The black lace inset in the front of her panties gave me a slight glimpse of the middle parts of her fingers - the tips being concealed withing her lips I presumed.
As she continued, she turned more onto her side and I could see her stomach flexing and relaxing with her legs. Her breasts raised and lowered with her breathing and a blush started to appear around and above her cleavage.
The black lace insets of on her silver bra didn't reveal much, just a hint of the circle around her nipple. I assumed they must be pink, not brown like mine, but I hadn't seen them.
She developed a rocking motion, twisting slightly back toward the bed and then more onto her side. As she did this several times, I caught a few glimpses inside her panties, through a gap held open by her hand.
Kelly was a natural blonde, but already I knew that. Her roots were as blonde as the rest of her hair. She was fluffy down there but not curly. I could feel myself smiling, wondering if anyone had ever seen her like this.
Her orgasm was approaching. Her body bent together into a fetal position and then straightened out and stretched, yet another rhythm in her process.
In the final stage, her upper leg stretched back and straight while her lower leg bent and kicked in rhythm, causing her covered mound to thrust toward some invisible man hovering over her at an odd angle.
Finally, her convulsions began, shaking her whole body, making her quiver and shake. She fell onto her back and arched upward, spreading her legs and pushing her blonde mound and its silver covering up into the air - in some kind of offering to the gods.
Then, back to her side as she shook more and curled into a ball, then to her back again, spreading and arching.
And she was still asleep, and still relatively silent. Only her rough, rapid, deep breathing broke the quiet of a Saturday morning, until eventually she crested with a single animalistic grunt of "Ohhhhhh" and rolled back onto her side.
Her hand slowed as she eased herself down, savoring the feeling, taking the aftershocks of pleasure on the way to a gentle landing. As her breathing came back to a more normal state, her eyes finally opened.
It took her a moment to orient herself - probably still getting used to being in the dorms instead of at home.
And then she saw me, staring at her - and realized that she had been masturbating.
I almost closed my eyes, but it would have been a pointless gesture. I was on my side facing her, less than three feet from her.
We were both caught red-handed - her in the act of shamelessly abusing herself and me in the act of shamelessly watching her. We stared into each other's eyes, each knowing that there was no point in denying anything.
I was the more guilty one by far. I had been awake, invading her privacy while she had been asleep, doing something that girls - women - did from time to time. We were women, I reminded myself. We could do that if we wanted to.
She looked gorgeous. She always did, especially in her underwear. Tossing her long, flowing straight blonde hair back over her shoulder - and finally removing her hand from her panties - she said, "I'm not gay."
I felt my blush. It was nowhere near as beet-red as hers - especially with my much-darker skin. "I'm..." I couldn't finish the sentence.
"Please don't tell anybody," she asked. It was a reasonable thing to ask, and yet...
"Just my husband someday," I blurted out. It was enough to make us both laugh.
"OK," she said, "if you ever have a husband, you can tell him."
"I will... have a husband, that is," I said. "I'm ... I think I'm bi."
She looked at me, still on her side facing me, not turning away. "Can I watch you sometime?" she asked.
I lifted my sheet, exposing my fully naked body to her. Her eyes went wide and then traveled from my shoulders to my feet and back. I rolled over onto my back and stroked my breasts and stomach with my left hand.
My right hand traveled down to my dark triangle, much thicker and wider than hers.
She sat up and stared.
"Please don't make a sound," I asked. "I get spanked if I get caught."
"Me too." Her voice spoke volumes.
Closing my eyes, I replayed what I had just seen, spreading my legs, letting myself go as I could never do at home. Silver-satin and black-lace against fair skin and blonde hair.
I had never masturbated on another woman's masturbating before, but when I turned my head to look at her, my body responded.
I had been half-awake for a while. The clock said 7:24. Should I get up or go back to sleep? It was warm - technically still summer for a few more days. I had a sheet over me and nothing on under it.
There was a rustling from my roommate's bed. I looked over and saw that her sheet had bunched up on the other side of the bed. Not surprising with the temperature in the mid-eighties.
She wasn't naked. Her silver-satin and black-lace bra and panties were smooth against her body. She lay on her stomach with her head turned toward me and her eyes closed, her mouth open and drooling onto the pillow, obviously asleep.
Was it wrong to look at her? It was mostly her left side. The perfect sculpture of her bottom, clad in silver, was visible at the crest of her silhouette against the back-light of the morning sun. There wasn't anything that I wouldn't normally see.
It's just that she was so pretty that way - and I could stare at her without feeling self-conscious.
I turned on my side and faced her. I couldn't see her breasts, even the side, because her arm was in the way, but I could see the straps of her bra against her back.
Her legs moved apart, slightly, and stiffened. The muscles of her thigh went taut along with the round muscles above them. She breathed in sharply. That's when I noticed that I couldn't see her hand at the end of her arm.
It was underneath her, inside her panties.
Was she? Really?
Yes. Oh, God, in her sleep? Oh my!
Her left knee bent, turning her slightly onto her side facing me, exposing part of her tummy and part of the face of her bra. I could see her fingers now, actually just the outline of backs of them, molded against the satin, rolling in rhythmic cycles, like a piano-player practising arpeggios.
She held that position for a while, her breathing deepening, her legs flexing and relaxing slightly in a slow rhythm.
She was still asleep.
I just lay on my side and watched in fascination, studying the details - I love details. Kelly is right handed, but it was her left hand inside her panties. She had it in through the waistband, not the leg opening.
The black lace inset in the front of her panties gave me a slight glimpse of the middle parts of her fingers - the tips being concealed withing her lips I presumed.
As she continued, she turned more onto her side and I could see her stomach flexing and relaxing with her legs. Her breasts raised and lowered with her breathing and a blush started to appear around and above her cleavage.
The black lace insets of on her silver bra didn't reveal much, just a hint of the circle around her nipple. I assumed they must be pink, not brown like mine, but I hadn't seen them.
She developed a rocking motion, twisting slightly back toward the bed and then more onto her side. As she did this several times, I caught a few glimpses inside her panties, through a gap held open by her hand.
Kelly was a natural blonde, but already I knew that. Her roots were as blonde as the rest of her hair. She was fluffy down there but not curly. I could feel myself smiling, wondering if anyone had ever seen her like this.
Her orgasm was approaching. Her body bent together into a fetal position and then straightened out and stretched, yet another rhythm in her process.
In the final stage, her upper leg stretched back and straight while her lower leg bent and kicked in rhythm, causing her covered mound to thrust toward some invisible man hovering over her at an odd angle.
Finally, her convulsions began, shaking her whole body, making her quiver and shake. She fell onto her back and arched upward, spreading her legs and pushing her blonde mound and its silver covering up into the air - in some kind of offering to the gods.
Then, back to her side as she shook more and curled into a ball, then to her back again, spreading and arching.
And she was still asleep, and still relatively silent. Only her rough, rapid, deep breathing broke the quiet of a Saturday morning, until eventually she crested with a single animalistic grunt of "Ohhhhhh" and rolled back onto her side.
Her hand slowed as she eased herself down, savoring the feeling, taking the aftershocks of pleasure on the way to a gentle landing. As her breathing came back to a more normal state, her eyes finally opened.
It took her a moment to orient herself - probably still getting used to being in the dorms instead of at home.
And then she saw me, staring at her - and realized that she had been masturbating.
I almost closed my eyes, but it would have been a pointless gesture. I was on my side facing her, less than three feet from her.
We were both caught red-handed - her in the act of shamelessly abusing herself and me in the act of shamelessly watching her. We stared into each other's eyes, each knowing that there was no point in denying anything.
I was the more guilty one by far. I had been awake, invading her privacy while she had been asleep, doing something that girls - women - did from time to time. We were women, I reminded myself. We could do that if we wanted to.
She looked gorgeous. She always did, especially in her underwear. Tossing her long, flowing straight blonde hair back over her shoulder - and finally removing her hand from her panties - she said, "I'm not gay."
I felt my blush. It was nowhere near as beet-red as hers - especially with my much-darker skin. "I'm..." I couldn't finish the sentence.
"Please don't tell anybody," she asked. It was a reasonable thing to ask, and yet...
"Just my husband someday," I blurted out. It was enough to make us both laugh.
"OK," she said, "if you ever have a husband, you can tell him."
"I will... have a husband, that is," I said. "I'm ... I think I'm bi."
She looked at me, still on her side facing me, not turning away. "Can I watch you sometime?" she asked.
I lifted my sheet, exposing my fully naked body to her. Her eyes went wide and then traveled from my shoulders to my feet and back. I rolled over onto my back and stroked my breasts and stomach with my left hand.
My right hand traveled down to my dark triangle, much thicker and wider than hers.
She sat up and stared.
"Please don't make a sound," I asked. "I get spanked if I get caught."
"Me too." Her voice spoke volumes.
Closing my eyes, I replayed what I had just seen, spreading my legs, letting myself go as I could never do at home. Silver-satin and black-lace against fair skin and blonde hair.
I had never masturbated on another woman's masturbating before, but when I turned my head to look at her, my body responded.
